Halfway up 99E, I stopped to rest my toes at an exemplary wood-carving museum, Pearson's Art Gallery. You see a lot of folky wood carvings on the roadside in rural OR, but how often do you see a 12' moose? Not very, thankyouverymuch.
Though the "open" sign was off, I was uploading the first shot to my flickr when this fella popped out from behind the fence. He said his name is Ken Williams, and before though the sign says "est. 1934," it wasn't always a kooky carving museum. It was a way-station for logs, moonshine and other commodities. He also said it's haunted.
This is Elias. I caught him somewhere near Lake Oswego. I asked if I could trade drafts with him for awhile, but he sort of shook his head, so I just passed him. After awhile, he caught me and apologized, saying he didn't understand, his English isn't so good. Turns out he's originally from Chile. Five years ago, he came to Portland to visit his mother, met a woman, married her, and stayed.
Marcus was the first to call me back when I arrived in town. He offered me his sofa, and I accepted.
Here's the bike, finished, with luxury item: a Toshiba RT-80S AM FM radio stereo casette recorder (made in Japan). I think it's an '82. Friend, film-maker/editor Irvin Coffee gave it to me for driving him to Portland about about a month ago. He also gave me fifty bucks, which really came in handy at the time.But I like the radio more, and I'm taking it on the 42 Ride instead of a laptop.
