February 9, 2024
Home again?
There’s still some time before we have to start driving, long enough for me to dash across the street for a last look across the bay. Its worth the half-hour spent, and I goose a last couple of birds onto the list before leaving the state.
We’re on the road by nine, and with a five hour drive ahead of us we’re wondering if our Airbnb will be freed for an early check-in when we get there. Some of that concern fades away though as we’re driving up the Smith River toward Grants Pass on Highway 199 and come to a flagger stopping the traffic. We’re only the third car in line, so it could take awhile so I switch off the engine and we settle in. 45 minutes later we’re still waiting, and the queue behind us has lengthened far enough that it disappears around the bend.
Finally Rachael walks up to the flagger to ask how much longer we’re likely to wait as we consider whether to cut our losses, turn back, and make our way home along the coast instead. The flagger tells Rachael that it shouldn’t be much longer, and we should definitely keep waiting. And, five minutes later we finally see a stream of cars and trucks coming our way; and then the pilot car turns around and leads us through at last. For the next mile we drive through a war zone, the road lined with the river on one side and a bare and burned out 45 degree slope covered with fallen trees on the other.
Later, I’ll reread our experience going south nearly three months ago and be startled to be reminded that nearly the same thing happened then. I can’t believe I’d forgotten that we waited over a half hour then too.
So that set us back by an hour, but at least the rest of the ride went fast - 75 mph the whole way other than for lunch and a gas stop in Grants Pass. We make it back to Portland before four, just early enough to miss the worst of rush hour traffic.
As we drive, there are mixed emotions. There is the relief at seeing the end of the long drive in sight, and the enjoyment of coming to familiar landmarks on a stretch of highway we’ve covered countless times. But we can’t honestly claim that we’re excited to be returning to Portland. We still call it home, but does it really feel like home any more? With each passing year our connection with and affection for this troubled city weaken further.
The place we’re staying this time looks attractive enough though - a basement apartment in the northwest district, further to the west than we’ve stayed before. It’s a little cramped, but it will be fine enough for the roughly two weeks until we fly out.
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