4049
One of the changes I've hinted at is a change that came out of nowhere: the job I'd held for thirty years dissolved out from under me.
At least I didn't get fired, hey? And I wasn't kicked to the curb so much as I was let off gently. But it was still jarring. And here I am, doing a whole new thing and taking a whole new way to work.
I use a lot of Stark Street, which is something of a joy.
There is a name for the intersection of SE 223rd and Stark that not many people know and wouldn't be known if it weren't for a veterinary hospital near that intersection: Twelve Mile Corner. It's named as such because it's about twelve miles out from Portland city center. No more complicated than that. Now, as I travel eastbound in the morning to my new employ, it's not hard to notice that from the 21000 block (a sign at the entry to the Microchip plant helpfully explains 21000 BLOCK) to 223rd, Stark climbs a long, gentle slope.
I call this slop Twelve Mile Hill. And going out it's charming, but coming back one gets quite a view:
It's not the highest of heights, but it seems to stretch Stark out to infinity.