Ol' Nippur, Mosssome and Other Cleveland Jargon

December, 2011: Ol' Nippur.  That's what they called it, almost as soon as they walked off the plane. They were, of course, referring to Mt. Hood, the white-crested, volcanic peak that dominates the Portland city skyline.   To them, from the plane, it looked like a giant nipple and when I told them that we would in fact, be visiting that giant nipple, hearts soared.

Garrett and Katalina had landed in Portland for the first time in December of 2011, just a mere eight months after I had moved here from Ohio and I couldn't wait to see them.  As two of my closest friends from back home, having them out here, showing them what I was making of my life meant a lot to all of us.  So, as soon as I got them from the airport, we continued east, out of the city, towards Multnomah Falls, a near 200-ft. high waterfall that pours into the gorge from below Larch Mountain.  After walking around the area a bit and hiking up to the upper bridge, we headed back through the Columbia River Gorge into Portland where we got settled in my small, 380sq.  ft. apartment on W. Burnside before heading out on the town.  We toured the surrounding neighborhoods around the northwest quadrant of the city, found an amazing Happy Hour at Jake's Crawfish Bar and sampled an array of locally brewed beer late into the night before heading back home to crash.  We were all exhausted and we had a long, packed day ahead of us.

The next morning, we drove east to reach the 11,000 ft-high Mt. Hood.  The road up to Timberline Lodge, most recognized by its appearance in The Shining, was surprisingly clear for mid-December and we arrived at Timberline ski area with no problem.  Our hearts set on exploration, we set along the buried Pacific Crest Trail, only to merge with the downhill skiing lanes.  We were without snow-shoes, or any snow-hiking equipment for that matter, but the snow was packed enough to allow us fairly sure footing on our way up the hill.  Before we knew it, we were above the tree-line and nearly approaching the lower glaciers. Celebrating our climb, we chose a rock outcropping to climb around 8,500 ft. and took our rest there.  Never before had I seen such a clear day in Oregon.  You could see Mt. Jefferson and the three Sisters from hundreds of miles away as if they were practically right in front of us.  The entire day was simply incredible.

We scrambled down the mountain towards the lodge and found some lunch (as well as a round of beer or two) at the top bar before heading back into the city for another night on the town.  Although exhausted, we met out with my buddy Andy for dinner in the Pearl, after which we headed over to a lounge bar called Tear Drop, where we spent the remainder of the evening before heading home for the night.

The next day in town, I made sure to introduce Katalina and Garrett to the local Saturday Markets that are erected all along Ankeny Square, where we eventually stumbled into Voodoo Donuts, a Portland landmark in Old Town.  Our timing turned out to be impeccable, as our wait in line was graced with an honest-to-God wedding inside the Donut shop.  Honestly.  This happened.  I couldn't make this up if I tried.  Instead of rice, the minister (or witch doctor...whatever you want to call the guy) threw sprinkles at the happy couple, who clearly had bonded over their donut addictions.  So bizarre.

The afternoon consisted of a walk though the Arboretum above Washington Park, where we descended into the Rose Gardens and back into the city before heading over to the Mississippi District for some Mexican food and German-styled bier at Probst before closing out the night.  As they were leaving the next morning, fairly early, and hopefully without any of the familiar hiccups they experienced on their way out here, we decided to intelligently not celebrate to hard and wind down the night with ease.  Before I knew it, they were back on the plane towards Cleveland that next morning and the weekend had rounded itself out to a close.
It's visits like this that remind me how lucky I am to have the friends that I do.  I've lost a few along the way...due to my own mistakes or each other's decisions to just walk different paths.  However, the ones I've kept this long, I see lasting a lifetime.  Especially my friends that I've retained from back in Cleveland.  Over 18 months later, I still reflect back on this visit as one of the best weekends I've spent out here in Oregon and I look forward to many more in the years to come.  They know they will always be welcome, wherever my path takes me, where all of us will once again, experience an adventure together that we'll be talking about around campfires until we're all well into old age.