Worst Day of the Year?

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Impromptu ride on the night of the “worst day of the year” (according to weather history). No rain or wind or anything on this idyllic night. The Snipper returned to the fold after an historic absence, riding down into SE and picking up SA and I. Down to the Springwater Corridor. Pause on the bridge. Ride through the corridor was dark and peaceful, save for the sight of a 10 x 12 electric sign informing us of a bike lane reroute. Only in Portland. The sounds of Oaks Bottom were in full roar. The chorus of frogs, like anxious spring ushers, sent their muddy song in echo along the riverbank. The warm air and the clear city lights gave us all a taste of the long, balmy spring and summer evenings ahead. After taking our time to decide against two other bars, we spun up to Hal’s place for beer and shuffleboard. Neither the Farmers nor the Old Guard could make a game of it against the opponents. After two swift losses, it was back to the bikes and up the hill to the all familiar Goodfoot. Blockwalk. After a few beers and no pool table open, we aimed our bikes toward the Triple Nickel. Not for us on this night, with the place teeming with younguns and an adult toy shopping network on the tele. We for the Horse Brass and some cask conditioned Tricerihops and Scotch eggs. Deep nostalgia hit hard and found me shuffling through my early Portland memories of the place. Then, it was off for home. Dub-Dub sent back up Alameda hill and the Bybee boys sent southward. Just a primer for the trip the the 5th quadrant. Only 10 days away.