Distinct dog zones define the geography of the city. West of the river you find accessory dogs like chihuahuas, whippets, and newfoundlands. Inner Southeast (west of 82nd) is the home of family dogs: shepherds and collies. Beyond 82nd one finds a master race of pit bull owners with bad attitudes and long leashes.
Log cabins and sheep farms exist within city limits. I still get nostalgic at the smell of manure.
It's possible to experience clouds, rain, hail, snow, and sun all in one ride. Each of them can and will hurt you, just in different ways. Love the pain and embrace rules 5 and 9.
Homeless people also like to bike, with or without alcohol.
Ghetto convenience stores carry power bars and gatorade, if you don't mind being on surveillance video, and Ikea meatballs taste pretty good after a 30 mile ride, though people will stare at your lycra clad form.
Don't forget to lube up. Seriously. Not as kinky as it sounds, or nearly as much fun, but necessary if you do want to frolic later that evening.
Mount Tabor is seriously steep, but the tranquility of the summit is worth it. If only I didn't feel so guilty at disrupting the early morning Tai Chi practitioners with my labored breathing.
Train schedules matter. Not because I want to ride them, but to avoid getting stuck at a crossing for 30+ minutes.
Sauvie Island rocks for what it does have (stunning scenery, naked beaches, berry farms), but sucks for what it doesn't have (water fountains or an ATM). Ride prepared.
The portland body is not hard to acquire: rock hard legs from riding, and a soft middle from all the beer...
