Saturday April 16 2005
~11:15am PDT

ODOMETER	NOTES
56718.6	3600 Marginal Pl SW
26.0	patch kit, Giant/Motiv, TO vest & rox secured
35.1	attempt to fix radio, swerve into traffic, abort mission, wait for stop
39.1	SAFEWAY chicken/iced tea/12 pack Select? root beer @ $250
40.8	Budget Auto Wrecking gas 3x20 gal drums + 5 gal can - remove tube!
49.0	patched 001 rear complete
53.7	rain begins pre-Tacoma ~1:40pm cats&dogs!!
85.5	"service engine soon" light lights...
86.1	...and goes off...
786.2	..and goes on, and has now been banned from further note taking on it's behalf
813.2		Walmart?2249 , McDonalds?16227 , a quite informative dry ice brochure, and 50?! for air pre-milepost 77, Chehalis?
95.6	Portland over horizon (travelling on S I-205)
896.5	OR!
6904.2	first Plaid Pantry sighting, Division St. PDX
6908.2	Tanner P (TO's cousin) picked up, SE 124th & Sherman, meet with Uncle Roger P and Aunt Ce-li (Cecilia) P
56910.5	Base of Tabor, bike swap location determined at Eagles Aerie #3256, drive by in truck and park for ride-up at 53rd&Madison SE
56910.5 - 56718.6 191.9	Nearly 200 miles without a bicycle ride...

mount cycles:
DX-001, TO-Giant/Motiv w/MiniTerror?, TP-Picadilly Circus?

Bike Swap
Fraternal Order of Eagles
Oregon Aeries
Portland (East Portland) # 3256
4904 S.E. Hawthorne, Portland Oregon 97215
Phone: (503) 232-7505
Aerie meets on the 1st, 2nd, 3rd & 4th Monday at 8:00 P.M.
Auxiliary meets on the 1st, 2nd, 3rd & 4th Monday at 8:00 P.M.
RV Information: Parking available, 2 with electric only.
Fee: Donation.
Hours: Open Monday, Wednesday, Friday & Saturday at 4:00 P.M.
Thursday & Sunday at 9:00 A.M.

• many bikes parked, mostly run of the mill, but one skanky chopper thought to be of Chvnk design spotted, and seemed to be crying out delineating our parking spots
• signed in, as is the case in an Aerie
• $1 entry, take note Seattle
• feeding frenzy commences, but not before being harangued by none other than Chvnk bigwig Megulon5 giving us some crap about dressing funny and not looking like weez from aroun' theez parts (in the friendliest of ways)
• DX apologized to the rubber-stamp lady for stealing her bunny-on-a-bike image to report on DBB Race Day VIII eventage
• money flew fast and furious, deals were made, heavy haggling happened, crazy stuff... total booty looted: choad-cut seat, some grips, a 3-speed shifter twist grip, some kind red and black skinny-ass tires like KC's, a T-shirt, some stickers, an evolution patch, some zinelets, a tiny quick-release (which magically was just what Buddy needed when we returned!), 50? kinda old "honor" popcorn, buckanahalf Pabst, Coors Lights, and buck A&W's.
• WARNING!
  Do not ride this bicycle until you have read and thoroughly understood the owner's manual.
  It contains information critical to your safety.
  If you have any questions about the operation of this bicycle, you should consult your authorized dealer.
• Reverend Phil recognized TO, and then DX. DX liked that.
• in the saddest turn of events, Reverend Phil was so happy to see Babies he began to gesticulate wildly and hence absentmindedly drink and wave about his water bottle (not opaque!) full of "good beer" which was most unceremoniously taken from him, emptied, and returned to him with apologies by a pleasant enough (given the situation) Eagle
• Reverend Phil was duly pumped for information. He gave up (without much struggle):
  zoobomb info - 8:15 pm Sundays Rocco's Pizza 10th&Oak SW diag from Powell's Books
  and more importantly party info - right across the damn street at 50th&Clay SE! (fiddyclay partay)
• bartenders on duty were Cindy and somebody else whose name didn't get written down
• there was much talk of Globe Trekker being on PBS with a segment on Zoobomb and the Eagles not being able to put it on TV, check your local listings

~7:45pm
Swapped out, yet reluctant to leave, it was back on the bikes and back to the truck. Gas tank was filled, 001 braking was adjusted and improved.

~8:15pm
We returned to TO's kinfolk and supped on vast piles of tasty spaghetti and scratch-made sauce taking care to not microwave any gilded dishware. Mmmm. Pasta belly. Inadvertantly caught the last few minutes of Globe Trekker, and kicked ourselves for not leaving the swap earlier to see the Zoobomb part. Proudly related how we would be Zoobombing with those crazies tomorrow, and didn't really need to be watching it on TV.

~9:15pm
After scratching bellies and initiating digestion, there is great discussion over riding vs. driving to the party. Tanner looks at us like we're crazy to ride 173+ blocks with a threat of rain. We argue that Portland is flat, 173 blocks is chump mileage, and that rain is afraid of Dead Babies. Laziness, petrochemicals, and food coma win. Woops, brain blood working on a tummyfull-o-spag causes absentminded scribe to leave notebook on the coffee table.

~10pm
After making sure not to drive directly by the party with the bikes in the truck, we accidentally do, and park well enough away that we can ride over not looking like the lazy fuel-burners we are. We are beginning to accept that we aren't fooling anybody.

Party

• we were kindly and quickly whisked inside and directed toward cans of beer, bottles of more pizenous distillates, and heard tales of the keg "if there's any left"
• suitably quenched, we were left to our own charm in finding glass pipes and a mumbly-knife
• there is a substantial bong shortage in Portland, we find this curious, but nonetheless did find a glass utensil which will serve our purposes, the owner politely declining inclusion in the ensuing circles
• it seems no one in Portland carries a pocketknife, and no one that lived at the house had one either. What's up with that? All through the night, no freakin' knives.
• Rev Phil was once again playing hometown Ambassador, and we met lots of folks whose names we quickly forgot. There were some hot faces and wobbly footsteps due to a fifth of Bacardi 151
• on the left hand side and all...
• cigarette smoking occured outside, a suitable mumbly-patch was discovered in the damp back yard, still no pocket knives
• the keg dwindles
• it was time to play with bikes
  we had brought tallbikes, and people were suitably impressed, espesciallly being they live in Portland which is disputedly the only city capable of giving Minneapolis a run for the money in "most tallbikes per capita"
  everybody loved the Giant/Motiv's mini-bike carrying drop bars, and are to this day still enamored by 001's chain front brake even though I keep dropping props telling them it was JE's brilliance, but just decoration, sorry
• not to be outdone, the freakier bikes of Portland started to come out, and TO and DX rode the wacky cargo tallbike showing the PDX folks fear is not an acceptable Dead Baby stimulus response where bicycles are involved. That's one pic up at the top of this page, maybe they'll have more, saw a lot of flashes.
• a sober DX was able to remember the location of Sunday's polo, in Alberta Park , but both he and TO remained a little sketch about the time thing
• the keg dies. Implorations to "squeeze!" the keg are not followed. Still no freakin' knife...
• TO worries out loud about his "curfew". Decides we should leave soon as Hotel Aunt&Uncle had a bad experience on TO's last stay the Chunkathalon weekend, what with cops being called and drunks crawling boisterously all over the place
• Sunday April 17th 2005 occurs
• we depart with hugs & waves ~12:40am

Sunday April 17 2005

TO awoke far earlier than DX, and got in some morning truck love, fiddling with, fixing, and filling leaky tires and removing a large quantity of 5? deposit Root Beer cans, collected trash of a few weeks, and the newly installed trash bag.  Both "breakfasted" on good and gut-filling eggywegs replete with meats and vegetables, all washed down with abundant hot coffee. There may have also been juice and toast involved, recollection is hazy.  Having  no handy internet access, the good ol' yella pages provided a bit of old-fashioned hard copy perfect for transcription. Heading to Alberta Park for 2pm(?) polo. A better map is here >> Look for the steel cage.  X's on the maps at left approximate Alberta Park's location.  We parked at the X with the box around it, and struck out by bike.

Sometime way past 2  and still before 3 TO and DX rolled up on tall bikes to the steel cage where polo was to be played, but not until after enjoying positive pedestrian Portlander perusal (PPPP) including  but not limited to "Oh my God, lookit these bikes!",  "Holy Cow", "Awesome!", "Lookit these bikes!", "Lookit that!", and "You guys are freakin' me out with those crazy things!", as well as variations on the "How do you get off" question.  A quick visual scan of the park showed only a few other bicycles, those sadly being of the store-bought variety parked aside a Portland General Electric picnic.  There was not a mallet, ball, nor cones to be seen.

1453 hours - Alberta  Park
SC calls from SEA, ringing the park bench in PDX.  Interstate Baby communication occurs.  SC is given concise proxy voting instructions by DX for votes to be cast in absentia at the big meeting. 
Head-scratching, smoking, and conjecture lead to several theories of timing and our location in the timeline. Stomachs rumble, and there is much talk of Pho.  Thirst occurs, and root beer is denoted as beverage of choice.  A little meandering tallbike recon mission results in neither, but Alberta Street registers as a place to get some grub.

A little kid on a bike is pumped for information as to the location of a nearby convenience store.  She directs us to the "corner store, just down there "while waiting for the light to change in the south-exiting crosswalk on Killingsworth.  Jazzed on the tip, both TO and DX (in quick succession, mind you) manage to cut off their new acquaintance as they all cross the street.  Woops.

16th & Killingsworth NE

1506 hours - still at minimart
As there was no escape! While inside paying for supplies, the sky breaks wide open.  Torrential downpour, big big drops, and hail.  Hail yes! ~2mm diameter, samples have been compromised.  We smoke some ciggys with the other dampened folks under the overhang, waiting out the precipitation.  We return via wet wet roadway when the drip stops.  We accidentally drop the 2 liter and brace for explosion, then refasten it to the Giant/Motiv's bike rack.

...later...
A couple of polo players show up.  We are not late.  We are directed to Alberta St (oddly not adjacent to Alberta Park) in search of Pho Jasmine.  Pho Jasmine is located at Killingsworth & Borthwick, Lisa Borthwick having sat in front of DX (aka AC) for a better part of high school. Pho Jasmine is unfortunately closed on Sundays.

On this search for food, we rode by 25th & Alberta, and discovered "the Clown House"  Zoobombers and Chvnks had told us tales of the Clowns, mentioning that "they're cool" and that they "wear make-up," but mostly that they had some nice bikes. They told us to go eat and come back and play when we were done, if polo wasn't panning out, as they were all amped for the Zoobomb.

So, it was back to the Clown House 25 Alberta NE
It seems the Clowns do actual "official" clowning on the last Thursday of each month, in response to art walks occuring on first Thursdays, and that involves riding wacky bikes around.  And they do have some nice ones.  Tucker and Dingo, the dog Banjo and some other folks who escaped note-taking showed us around and invited us to ride any of their machines, which we did, and it was big (and tall!)  fun.

Some guy Casey D (CD) wandered up whilewe were looking for a bong (and not finding one, damn you Portland!) and seemed to think DX and TO knew what the hell they were doing.  We quickly informed him this was not the case, and he came along with us back to the polo place, riding a TO's tallbike, the first tallbike ride of his life.  Some clown let us borrow another of their tallbikes so the three of us each had one.  Those clowns are good people.

back at Polo
More people had showed up, and they'd almost gotten to pulling up the tennis net.  They had cast out our mumbleyknife in an effort to safetify the polo field.  The root beer had settled.
Having no big mallets, DX and TO couldn't play, but luckily Rev Phil had a spare bike so CD could play, again for the first time in his life.   CD was having a very good day with the bicycle.
It was drizzly and wet, and people were getting cold and hungry, so TO, DX, CD, and the Rev Phil (RP) return the clown bike and swing by CD's house to score his minibike via TTTT.

16th & Alberta NE
Thinking what-to-do in  the truck was immediately cut short when CD said the universal bicycle club secret words "beer in the fridge"; we were up the stairs and in the apartment lickety-split.  An unopened 12-pack of PBR met us just inside the refrigerator door. 
We were introduced to "Moaning Moose", a 16-inch Hammer by Pacific in a darke blue.  So-named because of coaster-brake wail, I believe, but could be very wrong.  Built for tonight's Zoobomb, you see.  CD busts out his purple "Zootbomb" suit and models it a little.  Some note-taking utensil suggestions are made (magic marker) and refused (bleed! waterfastness! INK PEN!)  Lighter sleeves of red to alter a white lighter's appearance are promoted  RP claims to be "pretty bad, but not the worst" about influencing tee-totallers to stray.
The merits of buckling pirate-type shoes were discussed.  Aside from the intrinsic fashion value, an abundance of sole/pad elevates them to the "SKID GOOD" category.  There is no bong here.  Hunger comes.
The rest of the Peeby Yarg is packed "in the bag", RP is seated to navigate to "El Taco" upon departure.

El Taco
Taco joint with lengua, machaca, al pastor, and your standard taco meats.  DX is disappointed there is no brain. RP suggests we eat over at a friend's house close by.  We eat and drink as Halo0001 and Da Krunksta battle it out in Halo 2  When RP finishes eating he lays the smacking down on all comers.  CD initiates a collective picture drawing, and says something about railguns that heavily influences DX's turn.

onward to Zoobomb
So it was getting later, and we were fed and appropriately beered.  Darkness had started to creep over the Rose City, and it was nearing time to 'Bomb.  Seattlites were making no excuses for squashing their empty cans, "Once I'm done with it, I crush it," so RP took us on a little Portland tour of popular Zoobomb haunts of past, present, and future.  It was a little drizzly, the note-taker was in the back seat, and RP is sometimes want to go a mile a minute at the mouth while gesticulating wildly around the foggy cab, so please excuse the incompleteness of this section.

• 33rd & Going - somebody lived there or ZB usedta meet there, I dunno... speak of the Alameda Ridgums, whatever the hell that means, remember thinking of a dog breed

• 18th Purty w/???

• 7th & Fremont - Irving Park - old ZB kickball field (not to be confused with Col. Summers , the new kickball field)

• Fremont & MLK (?) Chevron station very good about being open until 2am when others have closed down.  No "bar time" in effect.

• Liberty Hall - yay!  There was some yelling.

• Fremont Bridge / 405 - cyclist scary.

• 10th & Burnside - Rocco's Pizz and the Zoobomb "Library Pile of Bikes"

woohoo! a twain!

So, the first thing you do is get yourself up the hill.  You do this by rolling over a few blocks to the MAX (light-rail train).  Luckily TO and DX had super-duper train tickets to just plug into the validating machine (provided by the cuzzins) while most of the other folks had to quick come up with a buck thirty-five.  Bells ring and lights flash and noisy things roll up.  And that was just the train.

It has been conjectured we boarded the train at the Galleria/10th SE stop, as that would seem to be closest to Rocco's.  MAX trains are modern, clean and shiny and hardly smell of piss at all.  There are little areas marked on the floor by some of the doors to hang your bike on a (handy, but not quite hooked enough) steel hook, and other riders are accepting and even genuinely inquisitive as to WTF we're all doing with them crazy bi-cycles.  There is a tunnel to go through.  Visitors are  warned that P&G Park is a good place to catch the MAX next time.  It's one block south of Burnside, by the McDonalds, at the "Y" in the road. Everyone agrees to "fighting evil crime" and tries there best.  There is vest-petting of fluffy new linings and buttery suede.

click for a legible picture

The Portland Zoo is in Washington Park apparently, so that's where we hop off.  Please be nice and refrain from riding your bike on the train platform.  You're almost there, and the security gaurds frown on it, albeit only in a mildly scolding way.  But then they get cranky because we overload the elevator, start giving you the mad eyes,  and take to that hiking up of their belts, so, just walk your bike, OK?

The elevators are very big, and can hold many bicycles and riders.  There is a nifty digital readout that gives you an altimeter reading from sea level in soothing blue light.  And beeps.  I can't remember how high we got.  Once in every few hundred Zoobombs the elevator door opens on the "wrong" side, which people talk about for a while.. 

So you get out of the elevator and need to go up a little more.  Babies whine.  All who need it are assured "just a little bit more" as roadway turns to dirt path turns to staircase, all the while getting steeper.  But soon, duck under/between a few trees, throw down your bike, and assemble.  Eat, drink, and be merry here.  Smoke cigarettes, too.  King of the Mountain, and all.

So after everybody gets there and practice their pre-ride rituals, people start mingling, or yelling things like "10 minutes" or "3 minutes" and then there's some wrassling and then everybody goes downhill just a leetle bit to SW Fairview and SW Knights Boulevards to commence the bomb.  There is adequate pomp and substantive circumstance, bikes are ordered by wheel size (tiny goes first!), a good old-fashioned 10-9-8... countdown, and you're off.... They talk about the different runs and different names and different people having different names for different parts of different runs.  "Salmon, swithcbax, bobsled, hiway, whuh?  Solid Gold says this is what DX and TO did. Here's how the Zoobombers themselves have mapped various routes.  All the roads/ paths/ drainage ditches/ fountains/ gates/ cars/ policemen/  and trees you encounter are not shown on the Expedia map. It can't be done justice in words, you've really got to do it yourself. Sunday nights top of the hill.  It's fast and dark and scary, but almost all dowhill.  Highly recommended.  You might want a light in order to go real fast.  If you're 16 you are permitted to decide whether or not to wear your helmet.  See zoobomb.org always for up-to-the-minute poop....

Around 1am after making the last train for the FOURTH bomb of the night (beginners luck?), we ran out of trains.  Big Burnside was chosen for it Bigness and dumping off near Rocco's, and little did we know, Voodoo Doughnut.

I'm not sure if it's getting there in the wee hours of the morning, the clouded-moon darkness, or speaking in tongues at the back window while gathering dollars from the riders, Voodoo Doughnut was kinda spooky.  But when that big pink box with a buncha leftover doughnuts came out, oh Bicycle God yes!  Some doughnuts eaten were as follows.  They were all damn good.  No, really damn good. oreoish crumbles, white icing, white donut - DIRT coconut, white icing, choc donut, peanut butter sweet - ??? choc donut, straw pink icing, 3 marshmallows - NEAPOLITAN?

Monday April 18 2005

We blew off the Acropolis due to poverty, a need to get home, and laziness.  The odometer read 57000 within a mile of the Oregon/Washington border.

An archiving run through the receipts led to a discrepancy at Chehalis,. where we found we had been double-charged for a tire repair kit.  At odometer 57080.6 we returned to the Walmart.and got our money back.  Saw an interesting pick-up in the parking loth directing us to kingchuck.com. What that's about?

TO's injuries from indiscretions with a big steel plate and a light misting of gravel were reported thusly... news is not as bad as a bus. Road trip officially ends at TO's mom's house, odometer reading 57145.2.

>> ride report index