I got this text message from a friend that asked, "Are you going to the Iditarod?" and I was puzzled and replied, "In Alaska?" But he wasn't talking about that. He was talking about the Portland Urban Iditarod. Intrigued, I went over to where it was happening on Saturday morning. It goes something like this: a bunch of drunken costumed yahoos pulling shopping cart sleighs mushing from bar to bar and back and forth across the Willamette River. A lot of beer, screaming and traffic jams at major intersections. I would guess there were about 600 people participating. My favorite entrants were a group of boy scout looking guys who had an actual campfire burning in their cart.
Which was the plastic kind. After watching for a while, I decided that seeing all the jackasses in their costumes was entertaining, but the gripping part was seeing everyone not getting killed even though that looked like a definite drunken possibility when everyone was howling across Burnside. Me? I opted not to follow the caravan and went to the library instead like a properly-behaved young lady.
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