Another post where I brag about my commute
Jenny and I have lived in SW Portland for eight-plus years now because of the exceptional commute. We certainly chose our first house for this reason (among others). It’s not a stretch to say that I chose to live in Oregon (sixteen years ago) and Portland (twelve years ago) because of the commute.
I’m constantly trying to make my commute longer. When was the last time you left for work 30 minutes early so you could drive to a suburb out of your way just because you like the way the trees smell out there?
Sometimes someone — generally a person who would be inclined to ride a bike to work but regards it as “impossible” — will say that I’m lucky to have such an awesome commute. On the one hand: yes I am. On the other hand: I’ve been optimizing this commute for 16 years.
I write a lot about my commute because I hope it’s inspiring. Also, because I’m bragging. My commute is awesome. It isn’t “impossible” but it dang sure wasn’t accidental.
Don’t get me wrong, I like cars OK. We have a car and I like taking trips late at night to the grocery because it’s a fun car to drive. I love road trips and long hours on vacant country roads. I’m from Nebraska, I get it. But about twice a year or so events will conspire to force me to drive my car across town at rush hour and every time I think: mad props to someone who can endure that twice a day, every day.