Oregon is one of a handful of states I’ve never visited.  And, for whatever reason, Portland has been calling my name like a siren song.  So I decided to visit the Mecca of the Northwest over this Memorial Day Weekend.  I had no plan, no agenda and no map. I was determined to be as lazy as was humanly possible and I brought my buddy Dack along for the ride.

“We are gonna make our own Broadway play this weekend,” I told Dack. “Forget ‘Lost In Yonkers’ … we’re gonna get ‘Lost in Portland’.”

Turns out Dack lived in Portland for nearly a year as a bohemian (read that: he painted and traveled to Hawaii every other week.) I figured that having Dack along was a fine addition … he would be a built-in tour guide.  And his mega-watt smile would be sure to get us out of any sticky situations we may encounter.  Plus, if I was gonna get hopelessly lost … at least it makes sense to do it with someone who could get us back to civilization when warranted.

There’s a laidback quality to Portlandians, like they’re just not quite getting enough oxygen to their brain or something.  It took less than 20 minutes before I was in their zone.  I forgot about the rigors of time and found myself inhaling fresh air — wondering where the closest Starbucks was located.  Turns out the locals are getting so much purified O2, it’s rendered them impervious to stress.

There’s an exorbitant amount of people watching to do in this city … so much so that my head nearly exploded multiple times.  Dack would be trying to tell me about landmark-this or point-of-interest-that when I would simultaneously interrupt/nudge him to glance my way.  “Look! An entire flock of baby birds is nesting in that man’s dreadlocks,” I yelled while Dack was trying to give me the 411 on the Pearl District.  Later in the day, I nearly shoved Dack to the ground while trying to point out a unicyclist carrying a half-dozen large pizzas held out in front of him.  “Can we get a slice of pizza, please?” I asked.  “You just ate 10 minutes ago,” admonished Dack. “I know, but I’m on vacation. Also, where can we find a place to take unicycle lessons?”

There are two things I hate in life … being cold and being wet. I would likely have to overlook both of these things if I lived in this city. On Saturday it rained in 30-second increments for a majority of the day. By the time I dug through my backpack and got out my umbrella, the shower would be over.  Dack was smart … he’d just flip up his hoodie during said intermittent downpours.  (Note to self, buy hoodie for next trip to Portland.)

Lines of people can be found in abundance in Portland. Whatever the line, it’s worth the wait. Restaurants, donut shops, galleries, it doesn’t matter.  The locals line up alongside the tourists.  Now that’s always a good sign.

There’s so much more I need to see and experience in Portland … but it was a good start.  And I think Dack was just as happy to be back in his ol’ stomping ground as I was to walk around in wide-eyed abandon.