The Roses Are Blooming
Last week some friends and I made our annual first pilgrimage to Rocky Butte. The butte is in outer NE Portland and has a commanding view of its surroundings: downtown Portland; the Cascades; the Columbia River; PDX; Mt Tabor; and, of course, the blue monolith that is the Ikea store.
There is a very nice fortress-like park at the top that was built during the 1930's as a WPA project, using stones from the long-closed quarry on the north side of the butte. In fact, the same stones were also used in the construction of the 1st Congregational Church downtown on the Park Blocks. Right in the middle of the park is an old tower with a light on top, once used to guide planes into the airport.
It was one of those days where you can see blue sky, but somehow the clouds tend to stay gathered right between you and the sun. Nevertheless, it was warm and we ate a delicious lunch featuring fresh bread, raw cheese, avocado, and anchovies, and discussed the relative merits of recently purchased records.
Is this guy not the quintessential Portlander? Happily buried in a book at the top of a mountain.
There is a very nice fortress-like park at the top that was built during the 1930's as a WPA project, using stones from the long-closed quarry on the north side of the butte. In fact, the same stones were also used in the construction of the 1st Congregational Church downtown on the Park Blocks. Right in the middle of the park is an old tower with a light on top, once used to guide planes into the airport.
It was one of those days where you can see blue sky, but somehow the clouds tend to stay gathered right between you and the sun. Nevertheless, it was warm and we ate a delicious lunch featuring fresh bread, raw cheese, avocado, and anchovies, and discussed the relative merits of recently purchased records.
Is this guy not the quintessential Portlander? Happily buried in a book at the top of a mountain.
Labels: bikes, rocky butte
posted by andrew at 1:55 PM
2 Comments:
Hi there--
On a cool, rainy, Portland-esque afternoon in Providence, RI, absently hitting the "Next Blog" button and reflexively skipping every single one that isn't pink and about broken-heartedness and how "U R th 1", until I saw the Freakwater LP propped up against a tree which made me think about leaving "Dancing Under Water" at a pizzeria/club in DC once and then going back later and explaining to the skeptical bouncer that I had left my freakwater here about two hours ago and had anyone seen my freakwater and how I really needed to get my feakwater back. Whatever. Portland envy blows and I (obviously) need to find a more demanding job.
that freakwater record is amazing.
i mean it.
themba.
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