Double defrauded / Marine Drive

March 21, 2025 to March 22, 2025

Saturday

I’m down at Umbria early, hiding out from the rain and waiting for Elizabeth to arrive. It’s a business meeting, and for a change I’m the consultant. It’s our annual meeting to go over her budget to review her financial situation, confirm that she’s succeeding in living within her means since we met last, and deliver the bottom line verdict that she’s been hoping for - the same one I’ve given her every time we’ve done this together for most of the last decade. Congratulations on managing your budget, and yes it looks like there’s plenty of reserve for you to take another trip to Europe with Road Scholar this year. Well done, Elizabeth!

While I wait I sit by the window and down an almond croissant and coffee, work on the blog, and reflect on the fact that just two months ago I was sitting here feeling very fragile and vulnerable. I was just beginning to make out the faces of the servers at the counter thirty feet away, but I still had a terrible time seeing anything below me which would disappear into the gloom. I’d adopted the practice of bringing my orange jacket with me and spreading it out before placing my rucksack on top of it so that I could see it outlined by the jacket and not overlook taking it with me when I left. It’s a wonder I didn’t leave it behind and find myself defrauded in those dark days.

Today though is a world apart. I can see well in all directions, a miraculous development that I still find hard to believe and fully trust. I’m musing on this when I’m interrupted by a phone call from Rachael. It’s an urgent one, because this time we really have been defrauded. We just received a message from the bank that issues our credit cards that there’s a questionable charge against one of them they’d like validated. And no, we don’t recognize this $987 charge from Ali Baba!

This results in cancellation of the card of course, and a lecture from Rocky about the need to be more diligent - because if someone’s been careless, it’s most apt to be me. There’s nothing else that needs doing immediately though, and it’s at least a good thing that it’s here and now when there’s still time to get a replacement before we fly out in thee weeks. No reason to stand up Elizabeth, who’s due to arrive in about twenty minutes. Back to the blog.

Less than five minutes later it’s Rachael again, sounding even more distressed this time, and with cause. The news distresses me also. It’s a second fraudulent charge, this time against one of the banks that issues our debit cards. and it’s for the same purchase and amount: Ali Baba, $987. This confirms that I’ve been the mark, because these are exactly the two cards I’m carrying. I pack up and head home immediately, and ask Rachael to call Elizabeth to tell her what’s occurred.

Later, I’ll have a flashback and realize what happened. It must have been two days ago when I was at that coffee shop on Alberta Street, killing time waiting for the Community Cycling Center to open its doors. When I left the coffee shop I failed to take my rucksack with me, something I realized as soon as I crossed the street and opened the car door. I returned immediately of course, but in the intervening two minutes another couple had sat down at my table and the rucksack wasn’t there on the floor beneath them. I checked at the counter but it hadn’t been turned in. Rats.

The only thing that made sense is that I’d actually left it on the counter back at my previous stop at Bike Tires Direct, so I return to the car with the intent of giving them a call. I’m barely out the door though when one of the servers rushes out with my rucksack, which was just turned in. Hooray! I scan the wallet to confirm nothing is missing - not even the cash - and consider myself lucky.

Until this morning. It’s obvious now that these events are related. And I’m passing this on partly to warn you of another scam you might not have thought to be aware of. I’m sure that everything in my wallet was left intact to put me off my guard so there would be time for them to make use of their stolen information.

So that’s pretty much the day. We take all the steps we can to address the fraud situation, do our best to calm ourselves down, and then get on with our business. For Rachael that’s a trip to LA Fitness, and for myself I walk across the street, rework the items in the storage unit to free up the space the Rodriguez will occupy when it’s time to decamp, and then turn back to booking our accommodations in Northern Italy. Suddenly I’m starting to feel pressured by time. There’s still a lot to be done before we leave, and not that many days left to do it in.

Sunday

I’m hard at work at one end of the room, trying not to gag as I down a bowl of granola while reading of the latest outrages that occurred in the last 24 hours when Rachael encourages me to come her way and take a peek around the corner.

Rachael interrupted me to suggest I look out the window again.

We’re still in the midst of a wet and cold spell, but unexpectedly it looks like we’ve got four or five dry hours to work with this morning. It’s time for Rachael to get back on her bike for the first time since we returned from Tucson. Even though it’s still quite cold out and will never get above 50F today, we wheel the bikes down the hall toward the elevator not long after I’ve returned from coffee at 9.

Validating that the Canon is loaded and ready for action.

We’re both anxious to see how Rachael does on the bike. She’s gotten some relief with both her hand and ankle so we’re both guardedly optimistic. The ride we have planned to the Glenn Jackson Bridge (the I-205 bridge across the Columbia) is the longer one that follows the Willamette Bluff and past the University of Portland campus before crossing northeast across the peninsula on Portsmouth Road to the Columbia.

We’re on an out-and-back, a variant of outings we’ve taken along Marine Drive hundreds of times I’m sure. I’ve brought the camera along just in case there’s cause to use it, but in general we’re treating this as a ride with few camera stops and are counting on the GoPro to remind us of the day. Still, there are a few times I can swing the Canon around from where it’s hanging over my back shoulder - such as at the bridge across the Columbia Slough at the end of Portsmouth when we stop to adjust her saddle height. While she’s resting it out I have a minute to look up and down the slough to see who’s afloat today.

Testing out the bike after a saddle height adjustment gives me a minute to check out the slough.

After that we’re back on task as we bike north alongside Portland Road and then east atop the berm looking across the nearest side of the river to Hayden Island. It’s a brilliant morning to be here - winds are light, visibility is excellent, there’s an interesting sky, but it’s still quite cold. And even though Rachael is pleased and encouraged by how well she’s doing, cold brings to the forefront her other issues we haven’t thought about for awhile. The cold aggravates her breathing, and the cold and slight headwind we’re biking into chill her hands and make her regret that she hadn’t thought to bring her warm gloves. They’re getting cold enough that they’re painful, reminding us both that she suffers from Reynaud syndrome if it gets bad enough.

We ride together as far as our traditional stop at the restrooms at the Broughton Beach landing, but after that she decides it’s time to head back for home and a warm bath or shower. Still, it’s been a successful ride and we look forward to riding together again on the next sunny but warmer day.

So we part for now, as we often have on rides like this in the past - she bikes west toward home while I continue East toward the bridge, slowing down considerably now as I bike with one eye (well, actually the on,y working one I’ve got) checking out the river while taking care that I don’t veer off the bike path into the mud or crash into an oncoming bike or Canada goose.

As usual, she’s gone as soon as I break out the camera. She’ll wait for me up ahead though so we can bike together to the Broughton Bech pit stop.

The next ten miles end up as an outstanding bird outing, probably the best since leaving Tucson, as one new bird after another keeps showing up until I’ve completed the loop to the bridge and back along the river to Force Lake and Vanport and then doubled back again to Vancouver Boulevard. There are a lot of single sightings, and one that particularly excitr# me - a pair of black phoebes, a bird we see overwintering in Tucson. As near as I can tell it’s another first of the season bird, like that Osprey from a few days ago. We must be just at the leading edge of the spring migration, and it makes me think I should make it back in another week or so to see what else is newly in town.

And there’s an interesting encounter, one that gives a reason to remain hopeful. I’m stopped along the river with my camera aimed at a pair of large, dark silhouettes on a nearby tree - ravens, not the immature bald eagles I suspected at first - when a man comes out of his house to the fence and asks why I’m aiming a camera at his property. He asks in a in a non-threatening manner but his appearance makes it seem like things could go either way - baseball cap, bulky physique, full dark beard - so I’m slightly on my guard when I tell him it’s those two birds up there on the trees lining the river. They’re not the eagles I suspected, I tell him; at which point you can see him relax. He tells me that they do get eagles here and just a few days ago he was amazed to witness one flying straight above his house trying from chase down a Canada goose. It turns out he’s a bit of a birder too, so the conversation turns to birds and then the wonders of living along the river where it’s a different day every day.

The encounter reminds me of a similar one five years ago in John Day when we were hiding out during the Covid year. I was admiring a vintage home somewhere between John Day and Dayville (where a few days later I’d leave a chunk of my left calf behind in the jaws of that damn dog). This guy too isn’t sure about my camera pointing his way until we start talking about what a special home and corner of the world he’s living in.

I so hope we can get back to that world again some day. Not likely this year or the next, but maybe in our lifetime? Hope for the best.

Greater scaup. I’ve been watching the two scaups intermixing on the river enough that I’m starting to be able to distinguish them without the camera. The greater ones are larger, more erect, and cluster in small groups.

Lesser scaups are much more common and form widely scattered rafts.

Western gull, hiding his tell-tale feet.

Mount hood is wrapped today, but we get a clear look at Larch.

Cueing the second violins for their big moment.

Anna’s hummingbird, at the same post I’ve seen her at three times now.

Black Phoebe! I’m really surprised to see this guy up here so early.

This just happened in the last few days.

Heart

Comment

Link

Today’s list: Common Raven, American kestrel, Red-tailed hawk, Osprey, American crow, California scrub jay, Northern flicker, Red-winged blackbird, Rock pigeon, Eurasian starling, American robin, House sparrow, Song sparrow, Fox sparrow, Spotted towhee, Dark-eyed junco, Anna’s hummingbird, Black Phoebe, Double-crested cormorant, Mallard xx, Gadwall, Northern shoveler, American coot, Bufflehead, Lesser scaup, Greater scaup, Western gull, Canvasback, Barn swallow, Canada goose, Cackling goose, Great blue heron, Wood duck, Green-winged teal, Common merganser (34)

Today's ride: 40 miles (64 km)
Total: 1,263 miles (2,033 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	9
Comment on this entry	Comment	0