[pdx] Signs of the Sellwood Bridge

3506.

There's a bit of information there, on the top of the Sellwood Bridge.

There are signs in the city that we no longer celebrate our history in Bridgetown; it's a struggle documented in the war over housing prices, rents, what gets torn down and what gets built. Portland, thankfully, still looks a lot the way it used to between the new stuff and the strange stuff (I'm looking at you, Burnside Bridgehead - but that's for another time).

At the east end of the Sellwood Bridge, as is true is most public works, there is a brass plaque recording the date, the when, the how, the who. Centered is the list of 2016 county commissioners, five in number, headed by a Kafoury (that's a Portland political verity: if you missed this Kafoury, there's gonna be another one along in about five minutes):

... but, at the bottom there, inset into the parapet? That's the original, now-92-year-old dedication plaque from the original Sellwood Bridge. Portland is conflicted right now about her history, but at least we remember there is one. There is hope in that.

There's a cosmic humor to me in this sign:

... because as everyone in Oregon knows, you have to go LEFT to get to Portland and RIGHT to get to LakeO.

And this is how we tell cyclists that Riverview Cemetery is right across the street, at the west end of the bridge.

Of course, you can take the scenic route, which may take up to 5 minutes. Plan accordingly.

And, in every city that has bridges like this, there are people who care about those who find their way onto them in times of crisis. One is sometimes not as alone as they think.

[pdx] Sellwood Bridge: We Love Our River

3504.

The river traffic was fairly bustling this day in 2017.

There's a line out of Ursula K. LeGuin's The Lathe of Heaven, after Dr. Haber begins toying with reality via George Orr's dreams. He's in his new office suite, overlooking Portland and the river, and Heather Lelache has just witnessed, with knowledge, Orr's dream rewrite the reality of a 21st-century, overbuilt, overpolluted Portland into the Portland that's more like it was back in the 70s, and Haber relates how he, in the new reality, came out to Oregon, and the thing that stuck with me from that scene was the line:

The ecosystem out here was still fairly intact.

And that came to mind as I looked out and saw the blue sky and the water of what was once one of the most polluted rivers in America, the Willamette, a river that's all Oregon's, and that we are as proud of to have as we are proud to be able to pronounce it correctly.

The Willamette is a pulchritudinous river along her entire length from Eugene through Salem to Portland, but it attains a certain mightiness north of Willamette Falls. Not only that, it's influenced by ocean tides ... there's a gentle tidal bore that causes the river to go up and down from the mouth all the way up to the falls at Oregon City.

I was skeptical, then me and my wife spent an lazy afternoon watching the water rise off Sellwood Riverfront Park. Then I was just boggled. Still am.

There wasn't just pentiful fun craft frolicking on the river, but there was some serious work going on under the bridge as well. This crew seemed to be doing some sort of maintenance on the bridge pier:

Men with hard hats on the barge, marine industrial equipment of every description, but it was the bubbling coming up near the top of the picture that intrigued me the most.

Wondered what they were doing down there. Still do.

Meanwhile, Maria kept everything snug and in place. What a cute little boat she is, too.

We love our river.

We're positively ... ah, Chipper about it.

[pdx] The View Of Downtown Portland From The Sellwood Bridge

3503.

The tyranny of choice is a thing to contend with.

The idea of that is that having too much good stuff to choose from is as paralyzing as having too little. A multiplicity of options only stymies you because you have so many choices to make and you want every one to count, so you dither, dither, dither. Eventually you get as much done in as much time as having nothing at all to choose from.

I took what I considered to be a great many photos from the Sellwood Bridge last Saturday, the aim being to get some sort of idea as to what it's been like now that a year and a half had passed since the bridge dedication. Doomed mission from the start. So I've identified a couple-three themes and will post some themed sets over the next couple of days, giving you, my notional reader, and myself, something to come back to.

By now it should be obvious that one of my obsessions is The Iconic Skyline Photo of Downtown Portland, Oregon. Its something that, by its definition, can never be completely satisfied, especially with the speed at which Portland continues to mutate and change. While the top of the Sellwood isn't the most ideal viewpoint, is still is a superb one, as the view down the Willamette River is unobstructed and the natural geography provides incomparable opportunities for framing and atmosphere.

From the top of the Sellwood to that tall monolith with the vertical stripes ... the Wells Fargo Tower ... the straightline distance is about three and a half miles. By road, around five. For a city of national stature, Portland is compact, but for an Oregon city, here, where sprawl is a cardinal sin, it's glandular to a great many of us. This, to me, is a very long way.

The above shot I chose precisely because of the intervening objects. The rail-line and the Springwater Corridor Trail, leading into town ... the road to Oaks Amusement Park, just along side ... the welter of wires and supporting poles and trellises, all are still dominated by the green of the trees. Even that massive pile of construction has trouble competing, from this angle.

The river, which animates us. The Willamette has been through a great many changes, from when Tom McCall got the state to clean her up to hassles about sewage and CSOs, and more, and now the peculiar absurdity we call South Waterfront, still crane-enabled after all this time.

But still, we put our best face towards the Willamette when we can. We are a river town.

There's a little sandbar there in the river. It has a name. Toe Island. Just pointing that out.

Beyond the western margin of Ross Island, that's the Lloyd District, 2017. I count six high-rises here. Four of them didn't exist as recently as 15 years ago.

And boats. You can't keep us off our river.

And here, a wide-angle panorama. Downtown, crane busy puttins something else up. There's a city amidst those woods, but you wouldn't be completely knowing of this if someone didn't tell you. On the top of the hill in the upper left, that's Marquam Hill, and that's the main hospital complex of OHSU, and, if I haven't mentioned it before, we Portlanders love calling it Pill Hill, because wouldn't you expect us to?

In the foreground, the houseboats of the Macadam Bay Club. It must be of some absurd comfort, knowing that a flooded basement is the way things are supposed to be.

[pdx] The Sellwood Bridge, A Little More Than A Year On

3502.

Back about a year and a half ago, me and The Wife™ were just two of thousands who watched the new Sellwood Bridge being dedicated. The bridge, completed in February of 2016, replaced an old structure that had spanned the Willamette between Sellwood and the southern end of SW Macadam Avenue since the year 1925. It was renowned as the single most dangerous bridge to be on; traffic weight limits were much reduced and not even TriMet ran across it any more.

This last weekend, we went out to see how the new span was doing. I've got more pictures to come; but not enough time to extemporize for the moment. For now, though, this beauty shot of a bridge whose new aspect has grown on me significantly.

Sellwood Bridge, big, bright, and bold.

More to come.

[pdx] Sellwood Bridge Bonds: Same As It Ever Was …

3307.

One of the bits of ephemera given out at the Sellwood Bridge grand opening a few weeks back now, was this, printed on the back of a card given out by the Multnomah County Elections Dept to encourage y'alls to use your damn' franchise. Here it is. Most ironically illuminative:

It enumerates the various benefits the bridge would bring. Most unintentionally amusing is the point that The life of the contemplated bridge would be 40 to 50 years. The ad, as the attribution notes, was published in The Morning Oregonian in November of 1923, and the bridge would actually debut just slightly more than 2 years hence.

Given the cited lifespan, the old Sellwood reached its pull date in 1975. Interesting to think that they figured that a 50-year bridge would fix the need adequately. And, of course, the debate over taxes is an evergreen one.

Also, those fonts? Love those fonts! Those fonts just speak loudly of their time.

[pdx] The Sellwood Bridge Opening, Part VI: The Fire Boat's Salute

3290.

I've seen this sort of thing in many celebrations on TV, of course. This is the first time I can remember ever being a witness to it.

After the parade, one of the Portland Fire Bureau's boats gave us all that particular version of the high-five that is so much fun to watch. When the gouts started, we all ran to that side and started firing off the shots, cool spray wafting back our direction.

First, it was water-colored …

Then it was the old red-white-and-blue …

… then, of course, they ran out of toner …

Then it was back to water-colored again.

A little disappointed that there was never the Cascadian green-white-green, but I'm not complaining. It was nifty.

[pdx] The Sellwood Bridge Opening, Part V: The Parade

3289.

I told you all that I had an armload of photos. The opening was a week ago now and I'm still sharing, which goes to prove that not only does writing about your world makes the good things stretch out, but there can indeed not be too much of a good thing.

As the opening ceremony concluded, it was time for the parade to begin. This being a bridge, a bridge is about people and about traffic and the traffic it was going to carry … and that was what the parade was about. Delightfully short, but full of delights for the eye, especially if you liked the cars.

First, this lovely brown vintage early 40s Ford. The fellow in the front seat is Commissioner Jules Bailey, whose face I missed because I wasn't quite on-point that moment, but hopefully the artfully-designed fashionably-stubbly beard leaves no doubt. File under Great Moments in Amateur Event Photography. 

This next photo is of a Chrysler Imperial, year indeterminate to me but certainly mid-late 60s. The passenger in the front seat there is County Commissioner Judy Shiprack. The finish is wonderful, but I didn't realize until I was right up beside it that those blue-toned waves aren't paint … they're beads, like the beads on the souvenir native American crafts that we used to see around the house growing up. The gray stripe seems to be made of smooth river rocks. It's not a custom car so much as it's an art-car.

The licence plate, Washington-state, reads 5MILES.

This sweet little job, a classic Pontiac Firebird, is not only a flat-out cherry bomb, but the Oregon plate reads DRAGUN. So it's got a kick-ass attitude to match the style.

Nothing too notable to add about this lovely classic Chevy Camaro Super Sport, but that's only because it's flawless. 

Since this is Portland, food-carts represent. Cartlandia is the one on SE 82nd Avenue at the Clackamas-Multnomah county line.

In about a decade or so, the Tesla will probably become as iconic around here as Subarus are now. And so they go.

TriMet represented, of course, and for a very special reason …

… with the completion of the new bridge, cross-Willamette service returns to the Sellwood area with the routing of the Line 99-Macadam/McLoughlin line over the new span. Currently, the 99 routes into Sellwood via SE 17th Avenue, SE Bybee Blvd, SE 13th Avenue and thence down SE Tacoma St to McLoughlin. With completion of the bridge, the route will be much truer to its name, and it'll be the first service connecting directly from Johns Landing into Sellwood since the days of the old Line 40.

A unit from the Portland Fire Bureau, always a crowd-pleaser.

The Bridge People.

And, bringing up the bitter end, the extraterrestrial marching band, in all their white-clad, punky-styled, unabashed and thoroughly delightful glory.

The Transcendental Brass Band, which I picted in the first chapter of this epic, also made a spirited appearance.

I didn't really catch the name of this ensemble. But I loved the act.

A parade well-done.

[pdx] The Sellwood Bridge Opening, Part IV: The People of the Bridge

3287.

A bridge opening day is a day for people as much for the bridge … if only that you're not going to get annihilated by a car. When I was a kid, and I asked the perennial "When is it Kid's Day?" of my Mother on or around Mother's Day, I got the answer "Every other day is Kid's Day".

Well, every other day on the Sellwood Bridge is Car Day. Today, it's People's Day. And, to prove it, here are some people …

Some people who play in a group called the Transcendental Brass Band…

Some people who want to cross the road at the west end of the Sellwood Bridge, with a people who is as crisp and efficient as she was friendly …
 

Some people who were friendly, affectionate, knee-high, furry, and liked a scritch behind the ears …

… a throng of people, dogs, and bikes, who were enjoying a bit of history and a day which was, not long before, a late February Oregon rain …

The dog people and their dogs were out in force today. You may have heard that Portland has, in its way, gone to the dogs, and that's true from what we saw. They were all terribly nice, well behaved and friendly.

So were the people.

Here's a people who seemed to be gathering signatures for one of Oregon's relentless petitions. Jaded me, I didn't press in for a signature (with the recent history of signature gathering organizations in Oregon, which isn't as nice as it should be, I find out my issue and then go looking for the petition), but he seemed nice enough and stayed unguarded long enough for me to get a moment in his time:

If you really want to feel connected to others in that way we really all are, go to a place like this and look beyond yourself, and you'll realize that the people around you are, in an essential way, just as you are … a human with wants and needs, fears and hopes, bad days and good, ambition and laziness and wins and  losses. I started to feel that then, and every time I look at these pictures, the feeling touches me back.

There were important and inspiring people. I was fortunate enough to nearly bump into Chuck Currie and his family and his dog saying hi to our U.S. Senator, Jeff Merkley …

And, just the other side of them, Multnomah County Sheriff's Deputy Taber, and I don't care what anybody says, this dude had the awesomest hair of anyone there (and, I just now noticed, there's Chuck and Senator Jeff behind him …

Deputy Taber's colleague, Deputy Cortana, was just plain cool as well.

We Portlanders are attentive, too. With the city as a background we gave our focus to the dignitaries that were there …

… and, while the oration was actually rather good, the highlight, and the reason I wish I had sound recording, was this guy:

… who one should recognize as City Commissioner Steve Novick, who was by far the most entertaining, bringing his trademark wit to bear and, noting that while 80 per cent of the trips over the Sellwood originated in Clackamas County, not one spondulix of construction money came from there, made a full throated call for invading Clackamas County and occupying it until the proper tribute was paid … and then admitted that maybe it wasn't such a good idea, as they had many more guns than we did.

Hey, we're Portland. We roll peacefully, yo. Haters gonna hate.

The next two pictures … this one …

… and this one …

… just speak for themselves, I think. The city and the people who make it up, without whom Portland would just be a collection of extremely attractive and well-made buildings. They are we and we are us and we are at a fortunate moment in time, we Portlanders, I think. This time is fraught with anxiety and despair for those who are struggling and maybe for everyone else too but something about the moment made the impression upon me that everything is still possible, even in these times.

In a city where some of the residents dress as bridges, what can't we do together?

[pdx] The Sellwood Bridge Opening, Part III: The Architecture

3282.

I must admit first off, I did not get any good views on the new bridge from the bank. It seemed a little tough with no ready viewpoints, and the only one I could think of being on the State Hwy 43 side, and a little inaccessable. Until I do, let this simulation from the Sellwood Bridge project site suffice. Three graceful arches supporting a down-to-business, yet subtly well-shaped traffic deck.

I confess, it wasn't my first choice when they rolled out the designs for public comment, but it has grown on me mightily. Meeting the bridge personally sold me; let's just say, it had me at "hello".

Here, again, is the old rusted sign-gantry from the crest of the old bridge:

For all its legendary frailty, the big metal supporting truss under the aged concrete upper deck gives this broad-chested impression of strength and solidity. If it was as frail as all that, it must have been built subliminally-well.

Looking back the other direction …

… you see what's been holding the bridge up this past year-plus. Those supports look spindly, but they've been getting the job done. In case the reader didn't know, the old span is actually slightly north of the new one, which is dead-on where the old one used to be. Before the new span was really underway, the engineering crew put those up and then jacked the old span over to rest on the new supports. Which is kind of amazing, when you think about how much work that took, the engineering involved, and the fact that cars continued to travel safely across the old bridge (which was probably safer than before because of those slight yet strong temporary supports).

The above picture gives you a view of the new under-structure versus  the old. The old: weary and worn, the new: sleek, sexy, and poised. It's said that, in one of the surveys before the replacement, the Sellwood was rated on a scale of 1 to 100, and it rated a mere 2. It's now said that the new structure is so well designed that it will take more of a shake than Cascadia Next is due to deliver. That is to say, when that quake hits, the old bridge is one of the last places you'd want to be; the new bridge, though, is one of the places you'd most want to find yourself in.

Given that Portland's river could turn the city into two unwittingly-isolated halves, knowing this bridge is here should bring great comfort.

Above: a view of that aged undercarriage. The weariness and the wear is unmistakable. Below: a tight shot up the old span. Teeny little narrow thing; lanes just barely wide enough for some of today's cars, and a sidewalk that is unforgivably narrow.

The old Sellwood. Just beyond can be seen the graceful arches of the new span, but the old span is the star here. As tough as it is, as down-to-earth as it is, as old as it is, it has some simple beauty to it. All bridges do. 

… and a staging and materiel area at the west end. This was not always thus. For a very long time, at the foot of what was once Sellwood Ferry Rd, for there was a ferry before there was any bridge. there was a boat seller and marina of long, long standing, which was named for the man who started it: Staff Jennings. It had a sign with a fluctuating neon star which was a landmark for the many years I drove past it.

Also, just another memory.