I woke up with a slightly blue feeling that I didn't have much time to enjoy my nice room. However, I put on my trench coat and geared up for my final trip about town. My primary goal was to head back to the University of Oregon to check out the fall color and to get a souvenir. It was a nice, cool morning with light mist.
I realized that I would have lots of back-to-back travel throughout the day: intercity bus, light rail, airplane, light rail and metro bus back home, and finally riding my bike. I decided to stock up on snack for the trip, I decided on buying numerous boxes of dessert-flavored granola bars.
By the time I got to the campus it was quite warm and sunny. Unfortunately, fall color was nearly non-existent, plus I was underwhelmed by the campus this time around. The prior year it was much more impressive in the heavy rain with a red leaves strewn about. This time the campus was rather boring. I came away with no photos from campus, but on my walk back I found areas with fall color and picturesque qualities that I did photograph.
My trip back through town peaked at a convenient parking structure, which allowed me to elevate myself and get slick, high angle shots (panoramic and otherwise). While I was taking pictures I noticed a woman on the street give me a worried look. I made her self-conscious. I thought, What the hell, I can get a cool shot looking down as she walks away. No face, no harm, no violation. Not to mention that she's in public and has no legal expectation of privacy. However, she really didn't want to be photographed because as she walked down the street she paused a few times and stepped into blind spots. I almost got busted by her gaze as she stepped out a few times when I was trying to locate her. I gave up on the woman and finished up not long after.
I found more rich shades of yellow as I drew near the hostel. In fact, I came across a couple of men who wore wearing shades of yellow that complemented the fall leaves perfectly. Unfortunately, I didn't feel right trying to take their picture from my position behind them.
When I got back to the hostel I packed rather quickly, and I took a real quick rinse since it was a matter of minutes I had in order to receive my deposit back. I made it.
Then it was off to the Amtrak station where the Cascade Point bus departs for Portland (and points in between). I arrived with some time to spare.
On the bus back up to Portland there was a man who was bringing out his electric razor and trimming his face about every 20-30 minutes. Is that a things? Are there people who are compelled by some disorder to constantly shave themselves? He was also using the voice activation/assistant feature on his phone, which, of course, didn't work consistently, which caused him to repeat himself with a similar frequency to his shaving.
Additionally, I was seated across from a woman who made me feel self-conscious to start into my granola bars. It wasn't the woman's fault, it was mine, but I prefer to have nobody who can possibly "catch" me with my snacks. Nonetheless, I discreetly had a few during the trip. It was a beautiful day for the ride with abundant sunshine.
Upon arrival in Portland time was o f the essence. I found my way to light rail stop, which seemed right for my purposes. I waited there for awhile before I realized that perhaps this was not so good. Apparently, only a few lines ran through that stop, so I had to walk a few more blocks to get to one of the primary stops with the greatest service frequency. Finally, I got a train with very little time to spare.
I hat to make a transfer further up the route to the airport line. Unfortunately, in my agitated state, I thought that I could ride the train beyond the transfer point for good measure. All this did was send me in the wrong direction. Eventually I got back to the transfer point and finally got the correct bus having lost a minimum of twenty critical minutes.
After an agitated ride to the airport I walked up to the Delta kiosk and discovered the first signs of doom: too late for automatic check-in. Then I approached the attendant at the Delta desk: too late, period. So now the pattern was official: three consecutive flights missed.
I got booked for a standby seat on a flight, once again, three hours later. I decided that I would use much of this excess time to make serious progress on some online coursework that I had been procrastinating on. First, though, I parked myself at a fancy bakery and ordered coffee that
came with discounted refills. I got most of my assignments completed. I made my way to the security checkpoint about 45 minutes early. Security was a pretty chill process in Portland, as far as it goes. Then I proceeded to the gate and continued work on my assignments.
I did get a seat. I think I may have benefited by an upgrade since this flight had free pretzels and water, where there had not been any prior. It seems that I'd pretty much lost my fear of flying by this point. My first Oregon flight to Eugene was nonstop dread and anxiety then my Minneapolis flights were still plagued with fear. I was already more relaxed during the east coast trips but I was still definitely alarmed during some of the maneuvers and turbulence experienced on the overnight flight to Baltimore.
When we returned I made my way on foot to the G-Bus/shuttle and then the light rail. At Norwalk transit center I discovered that my cheap bike light had been stolen. I had intended to take the lights with me, but had forgotten due to being in a hurry. It was all or nothing, I had to catch the last bus of the night, which was a worry since I had my full size non-folding bike. Granted, some drivers and some bus services allow a bike to be brought on board if its the last trip, but there are no guarantees. Fortunately, both bike spaces were free and the bus was quite spacious. It was a quick trip due to the lateness of the hour but I had to share it with some societal dregs.
Finally, I arrived in Anaheim at about midnight or after. The bus benches were serving as beds for some homeless people when I got out. I boogied on away from this profound image of civilization: homeless encampments just outside the original Disneyland Resort.
Granted, I took the next day off work.
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