The final days of Portland

The moving van was reversed down the alley that backed up to our gate, loaded over the course of two days, and then driven out to the street for the final pieces to include our car, which was to be towed the 2500+ miles from Portland to Alaska. Scott handled the endless back and forth trips, hauling load after load of boxes and what we kept of our belongings. We had a 17' truck, and it was packed from Granny's Attic to the pull down door. I don't think we could have fit anything else in there, and I worried at one point, along with all of the other random anxieties that come with a move, if it would all just come tumbling out when we did have to open the door. Alas, Scott is an ace at packing, Tetris-ing it all in perfectly, and cinched it down with adjustable tie-downs. Also, in a stroke of absolute genius, Scott ordered transit tape and wrapped the car, that was to be towed behind the moving truck, to keep it from inevitable abuse on the roads.

We aimed for August 15 as our departure date, and here it is. Scott packed, and packed, and packed. I wrapped up my last summer class in the wee hours of August 14, and set to work on the last of the boxes and the ceiling to floor cleaning. The cleaning was perfect for the nervous energy.
Friends came by to say their final farewells and offer their well wishes, and some to again express their misgivings about our new adventure. The amazing Sara came by to save us from the madness of packing and being unable to find the corkscrew.

In the midst of the last two weeks in Portland, my parents came for one last visit. We bundled the restaurants and the trips with our own farewell to the city that had been home for four years and which we loved. We took one last trip to Astoria and along the coast with a stop at Ft. George Brewery. We ate at home quite a bit with garden fresh veggies and local fruits. Our garden was just hitting its summer stride and we were up to our elbows in green tomatoes, fresh herbs, hops, and more.

Portland is the Manic Pixie Girl of cities, I have come to realize: leather and glitter, defiance, self deprecation, and enough unself-consciousness to be the quirky place that it is. We went on a food tour--Pete's Coffee, our first Portland coffee shop that led to our first apartment, Screen Door with my parents, Pine State Biscuits, Flying Fish Company, The Waffle Window, Thai BBQ, and even a late night Tecos run for good fast food Mexican food. We ordered extra of the Thai and Mexican food, sealed thanks to our handy food saver and then frozen, to take with us on the long road trip and to save us from road food and days of ramen. I had my hair cut and colored one last time, trading my beloved vintage Raleigh Sprite for it.  Mychal's bike was stolen the week before, and it was a funny twist of fate that my bike went home with her that day. Scott's screaming Italian red road bike was sold on the last day, too, to a guy who fell in love with it at first sight. He hadn't even climbed onto it before he told us he would take it. I believe it found the perfect home, just like my bike did.

Asher wandered around the ever emptier house, sticking close to me as "her" things slowly walked out the door (or were uprooted and given new homes as with "her" garden plants) and her claws hitting the wooden slats echoed more and more. She had to content herself with curling up in what dark corners she could find and just closing her eyes to sleep. While she is amazingly adaptable, change for her is not comfortable, so there was a lot of attention given, extra cherries and other treats provided, longer days out in the backyard.

We drank up the last of the homebrews and, sadly, dumped more than that. We took only a few for the road. Scott bought a half case of New Deal's Portland 88 vodka for me since their distribution doesn't make it as far north as Alaska. Aviation gin didn't make the pack, unfortunately, though I have plans to have it shipped; the cost of shipping is going to be exorbitant, I'm sure. Scott gave us a case of wines for our anniversary this year, and we have been collecting Portland wines and wines we just love for a bit to build up our (eventual) wine cellar). A new state means learning new alcohol laws and strictures. Admittedly, and even despite the additional vice tax, Chicago's liquor availability is the best.

The road beckons, and we have miles to put between our home in the PacNW and our new home in Alaska. We bid farewell to the home that took us in, taught us so much, and shifted our trajectory.