The bike ride on the way home from my bike ride

Yes, I am always biking home from wherever I’ve been, since that’s what I do, travel by bike. But sometimes (okay, maybe often), I do what James and I joking call “take a bike ride on my bike ride home.” Which is to say, take the long way home. Frequently a totally ridiculous long way home. A such-a-long-way-home that it’s not really a commute anymore, more of a bike-ride-for-the-sake-of-adventure way home.


(frequently I am enticed into longer rides by wanting to see things, like our various mountains, from different places — this is Wy’East, or Mt Hood, from the Columbia River Slough much further west than I would strictly speaking need to bike to get home)


This is a good antidote to getting bored of my commute, since it means I am frequently throwing new things into it.

My ride to work (which I do about once or twice a week these days), is about 14 miles one-way. Since I’m riding from SE Portland to Vancouver, WA, there are several ways I can travel of a basically similar distance that take advantage of different parts of the Portland street grid. I favor some at certain times and some at others, but I would say there are about three flavors of way I choose between when I come directly or mostly directly home from work.

Oddly enough, I almost 100% of the time take the same way to work; I guess I’m not as creative in the morning? Or maybe I just always want to start by seeing the Willamette River.


(or maybe I want to see the buds and blossoms along the river;) If it’s spring)


Point being, depending on my mood, I can take several equally pragmatic ways to work or home again. Or to wherever I’m going, be it work or otherwise.

But then there are the days where I end up in places that are not even remotely pragmatic, like a birding stop at Kelly Point Park, or a ride along the Willamette River way down to Milwaukie, or who knows what else, all for the sheer enjoyment of being on my bike on a nice day. Or maybe sometimes not a “nice” day, but a day where I just want to keep pedaling regardless.

Those are the “bike ride on my way home from my bike ride” kind of days. And I love them, and they make me feel like a sneak-attack adventurer in the middle of normal life, and they are great.

One Comment:

  1. There is no officially attested native name for Mt. Hood, and no evidence that Wy’east is anything other than a made up name created by a white fellow for a work of romantic fiction published in 1890.

    Here’s a conversational sort of article from The Columbian about the situation:

    I personally think it’s better to stick with Mt. Hood, since Wy’East is just completely made up white settler nonsense pretending to be a native word.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.