Day Two: A Nerdy Day.

When we first started planning this trip, I came up with a gimmick. Friday would be our "nerdy" day, Saturday would be our "spooky" day, and Sunday would be our "sugar rush" day–these being three main themes of Portland itself. The kids love a themed itinerary that they can violently ignore in favor of nesting in a hotel room, which seems to be their true calling.

So with the kids cozied up in their bedroom, Dacia and I set out to find the only food item Arthur requested for this whole trip:

To do this we had to get from the hotel to Lil' Funky Donuts, a little over seven blocks away. Portland has a reputation for being one of the most accessible cities in the country and it's largely a deserved one. But because it built its sidewalk accessibility improvements earlier than other cities, it's understandable that there might be a bit of deferred maintenance and un-updated infrastructure across the city:

• Curb cuts that were lower than the asphalt due to multiple repaves raising the level of the street (but failing to update curb cuts at the same time).
• Narrow sidewalks with standard street furniture that made for tight passes.
• and of course the usual sidewalks uplifted by roots, broken asphalt, potholes, and all the other things that encumber wheelchair travel.

I realize I've been posting about accessibility issues pretty much non-stop. And to be perfectly candid, these are not things I saw before I had to either. I saw our local sidewalks as delightfully-lived-in. I designed many a bathroom to minimal ADA standards with little regard to how it might actually be used by someone in my new position. I even, god help me, designed stramps:

But of course, since I'm a selfish primate, I've been thinking a lot about how we model disability, create accessibility, and maintain infrastructure because it's now something I will need, and likely for the rest of my life. The United States has been at the forefront of disability rights and disability design... but too often these design, engineering, and construction projects are carried out by able-bodied folks, under time, budget, and spatial constraints that only allow for the statutorially-required level and scope of accessibility. It would only take a little bit of care, continuing the example from above, to note that curb-cuts will need to be revised as part of any repaving project. But it would cost more. Anyway. More on this in the future, I'm certain.

Generally speaking, Portland was an amazing place to be in a wheelchair. The city is very accessible and even when it's not, total strangers were always ready to jump in and help me out–although I do wonder if that Portland Nice erodes to some extent during the dark and dreary winter months.

Anyway, back to our day. One of the big things on the "nerdy" agenda was a roll around Reed College to eat lunch and find old professors to scare with my chair. But all that was going to be available in the Commons was "grab-and-go" lunches, which in my experience are always sad depressing gray meals. And all but three of my professors have retired because spoiler alert I'm old. So we decided to give it a miss and instead head to the Sellwood district to do the one thing Althea requested during this trip: thrifting.

Fun fact: every Portlander I consulted in putting together our trip itinerary suggested that a different neighborhood (Sellwood, Alberta, Woodstock, Hawthorne, Division, etc) was epicenter of thrifting. So we chose Sellwood because our friend Dave had the best lunch recommendation. And we started our thrifting & vintage adventure at Sellwood Union, which was less a store and more an assemblage of narrow aisles and various treacherous floor conditions. Which was fine with me because it meant I didn't even have to maintain the pretense of shopping and I could just sit in the corner with Arthur on my lap. After much browsing, Althea found a bunch of new looks for her 90s phase, including this amazing jacket:

Lunch was at the Piknik Park food truck pod with Dave and Luis. Portland's food truck pods are amazing and always end up being a highlight of our trips. Truly top-notch food in every one we've visited. And even thought this one had a gravel floor and no accessible bathrooms, it was worth the trip for the food and company.

Jin Dak PDX, in particular, had the best Korean fried chicken I've ever had. Not surprising, as they were voted best food truck in Portland three years running. And it was great to see Dave and Luis (who I hadn't seen in person since 2019). Many beers and ciders were consumed. After that it was time to head back downtown so I could rest at the hotel while Dacia and Althea continued nerdy day at Powell's.

It was about this time that I started to really miss my big ugly stupid recliner couch. None of the furnishings in the hotel's lobby or rooms was really accessible for me with my injury and at my point in recovery. There was a lounge chair in our room but it had high arms and a low seating position–something I will be able to use someday, but not today. So it was back to bed for me, which frankly felt like a bit of a defeat. Our bed at home has a great frame that doubles as handholds for me to roll myself onto my side or stomach; the bed in the hotel had none of this.

This led to one of the scarier moments of the trip when, in the middle of the night, I was unable to roll to the side that I desperately wanted to roll to. After a bunch of fruitless attempts, I came to rest on my back, and immediately flashed back to when I was still in the Intensive Care Unit, unable to roll or move or otherwise relieve any of my pain. As I lay there unable to move, in the midst of an anxiety attack, and wishing I could be in my own bed at home, I made a mental note to thank Dacia for all of the work she'd done to make our home safe, functional, and inviting for me. It really is night and day between what she's been able to accomplish at home and what design professionals offer to impaired folks in hotels. After distracting my brain making a list of the ways my wife is amazing, I woke her up and asked her to help me roll over. She held out her hand, I grabbed it and rolled comfortably into her arms, and finally to sleep.

Next up: Spooky Saturday! Marvel at the best grilled cheese sandwich in history! See Grayson push me halfway across Portland! Gaze in awe at the most accessible bathroom in Portland! Thrill to the sounds of totally fabricated ghost stories!