Unexpected Pie

Dear Liza,

The weather got beautiful for a few days (we call it Fool’s Spring) so Grandpa Nelson and I headed off for an adventure. Like most adventures, it started with lunch.

We had hot dogs and fries at Zach’s Shack while we watched some Olympic downhill skiing. As we were finishing up, Grandpa asked “Want to go up Mt. Tabor?” Of course, I said YES! We were on the right street, we just needed to go a mile east… and gain about 800 feet of elevation.

I love Mt. Tabor. How many cities have their very own volcano? Well, extinct volcanic cinder cone, actually. We followed the path up past the old reservoir on the west side and through the fir tree forest that covers the mountain. Spring growth is greening up the forest floor nicely.

There were lots of people with their kids, dogs, and strollers out enjoying the day. At the top, we chatted with some little girls, and Grandpa tried to tell them that hawks (we were watching one overhead) eat little girls! The oldest, who was about five, said, “No they don’t, they eat Grandpas!” I guess she showed him!

The view of Downtown from the top of the mountain always knocks me out.

We visited the plinth where the statue of Harvey Scott was the last time you visited. It was pulled down last year by folks who hate what he stood for, (which was rich white men being in charge of everything) and his replacement hasn’t been decided on yet.

By then, it was definitely time for pie! We crossed the top of the park and down the other side, finding this amazingly huge maple tree, and headed towards the Bipartisan Cafe.

We passed this cool sheet metal robot, the mascot for Vinje’s Sheet Metal Supplies.

Inside the Cafe, there were fewer tables than before and no couches, so we could all keep a safe distance. Vaccination cards were required, so we knew we wouldn’t be making people sick. I enjoyed the old campaign posters and the blueberry sour cream pie.

The red rosella tea was hot and sweet and just what was needed.

And when we had eaten every crumb, we stepped out and caught the number 15 back home and slept like dead people. We had walked five miles and felt very accomplished.


Grandma Judy

Author: Judy

I am a new transplant to Portland from Salinas, a small city in Central California. This is a blog about my new city.

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