HAWTHORNE GOLD, PORTLAND BLUES, THE QUEEN

At just the right time of day the Hawthorne Bridge in Portland Oregon gives up the goods.

Panning for gold? Here it is during the Golden Hour.

You can’t take it home, or invest, but you can put it away in case you need something extra.

And who doesn’t need something extra now and then?

I took a short break from Portland Blues and looked into the river. This is what I saw.

Like fire on mountain in North Carolina, except this golden fire drifts on the Willamette River and feels like something from Greek mythology.

How do you know when it’s real gold, real value?

Hawthorne gold in the bowl

When you walk up on a group in the bowl and think, “This looks familiar?”

Hawthorne gold.

In a crowd of fading fans on a great Portland night out, I found these nuggets.

This is why the word ‘eureka’ was invented.

Like the strikes in Alaska, the gold the first ’49ers came for, or places in Oregon open for panning without a claim,  gold flakes shake it in the blues bowl.

Hawthorne Gold west to east

Except for the NORTH BEND Bridge, this is my most traveled span.

When I lived in NW Lovejoy I worked on the east side; when I lived on SE 11th I worked on the west side.

I walked it, ran it, biked it, drove it. Even rode a motorcycle across the metal grated inside lane.

First it had a rotting wooden pedestrian path, then sheet metal, and now something more permanent.

On a late night run from SE 11th to NW 21st, after getting off the swing shift, I saw two men walking toward me on the south side of the bridge.

I slowed my Olympian marathon pace to a trot in place pace to watch them come out of the super structure.

My plan was running across the lanes to the other side if I got the feels to flee, except back then it wasn’t lit so well. I could get clipped.

The two guys split up with one on the walk way, the other flanking across the lanes.

Better for me, right, one on one?

Except the guy sneaking to the side gets clipped by a speeding car from the inside lane and goes flying.

Now it’s just me and the guy on the walk way, and his knocked out accomplice, or..?

I look at this bridge and mine all of the Hawthorne gold there is

My wife and I left NW Portland together across this bridge, a couple of newly weds on the run.

The big laugh we share is leaving NW when it was dive neighborhood turning to destination neighborhood, for another dive neighborhood.

Then we left SE before it turned cool. Coincidence?

And we left on the Hawthorne Bridge.

The next time you find some whimsical looking old farts staring at a bridge and it makes you wonder what the hell, are they in a trance? Dazed? Confused?

Or just mining Hawthorne gold?

Where is your gold mine?