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"To Salem!" is not an epic title

I began my weekend (errands Friday; treats from Krispy Kreme then groceries Saturday) not knowing I'd be helping a friend Sunday by riding to Salem and back. But ride I did. Andrew, who I've known for several years through the various local radio shows and podcasts I listen to, needed an extra person to help him load old-but-good-and-solid furnishings from his family home to where he lives now, and I was available...and hey, why not a road trip? I was up for that.

Not like it's a huge trip (about 40 miles south of Portland), and Salem, Oregon ain't that glamorous a destination, but hey, change of scenery and a way to be useful.

We got good moving weather, too — not too hot for most of it, and some breeze. Traffic down was manageable, though the return trip had multiple slowdowns due to the simple, maddening reason of rubberneckers. Grr.

But I learned stuff: updates on Andrew's life, some good trivia and recommendations on authors, and how to pronounce SE Salem's Kuebler Blvd. ("KOO-blur"). An amused Andrew pointed out a church surprisingly named Morning Star, surprising because that's close to "Morningstar" (a.k.a. Satan). I met his parents, who were nice enough to give us coffee at the house and ice water for the road, and Lucy their Standard Poodle, who was excited.

After braving the northbound traffic, we arrived at Andrew's place maybe one minute later than he'd targeted, so, go him (it helped we'd gotten about a half-hour early start leaving Portland). Two more people, a friend of Andrew's plus Andrew's girlfriend, joined us to move the stuff in, and then the friend left and we remaining three celebrated the finished job by getting dinner at the Delta Café, a good Southern place near where I live.

Home now, with preemptive aspirin in me because lifting. See you.