So, The Missus and I decided on Saturday to go through a nice walk through Portland. Specifically, we thought we’d opt for a walk along the Eastbank Esplanade, then head into downtown, walking the waterfront and completing the loop at the Hawthorne Bridge.

Of course, I was a fool to think the day would be so simple. Instead, we spent the better part of a couple hours not only walking, but seeking out honey sticks, which my wife perpetually craves.

(Photos and stuff after the jump)…

Anyway, the day began innocently enough on the East end of the Hawthorne Bridge, down below by the parking and the Fire Station. As we pondered our direction of travel, we decided to head north on the Esplanade instead of heading west into the city. This would be my downfall, as if I had simply chosen to get the city done quick, the honey stick search likely would have been entirely avoided.

Anyway, we headed north along the Vera Katz Memorial East Bank Esplanade and, almost immediately, my six-month preggers wife started to have to go pee.

I’ve learned that this is a pervasive theme in impending parenthood.

Her fervor for finding release did not dim my fervor for taking pictures, however, and I was able to get a nice shot of the downtown skyline as we started our trek.

This isn’t the whole skyline, of course. In looking at Portland from the east, there’s a dense skyline toward the southern end of downtown, and then a bit of a sparseness for a few blocks. To the north is Big Pink, which merited its own picture, if for no other reason than I purposely ommitted it from the prior photo.

(By the way, as we continue, there is great insight into all sorts of downtown features at the Portland Architecture Blog).

Anyway, as we started to wind our way north, I was taken by all sorts of nifty little views. For instance, there was this shot of some of the random geometry to be found while walking along the Esplanade, which I really enjoyed viewing.

My wife, though, was fixated not only on finding relief, but on a new obsession to track down honey sticks somewhere downtown. Between muses on how our daughter-to-be was making her life miserable by compressing her bladder into a grape-sized vessel, she also mused on how tasty a cinnamon honey stick would be. Now.

The mission was clear. Honey sticks would be sought. However, they couldn’t be until we made it to the west side, so I was free to click more shots.

Here’s another photo of some of the lines on the Esplanade.

Here’s the venerable Steel Bridge from the Esplanade.

Eventually, we found an outhouse (that was entirely unacceptable, given the combination of newspapers and clothes in the toilet hole) on the Esplanade (hope you’ll forgive the lack of a picture of that eye-sore), and realizing that the sweet relief needed to come soon, we began to plot a strategy.

We would cross the Steel Bridge. We would go to the restrooms right along the Max Line, just north of Ankeny. And then, we would comb the vendors for honey sticks.

Of course, that’s all easier said than done. I mean, the bathrooms were easy enough to get done, but we carefully walked by each and every stand at Portland’s Saturday (and Sundays, too!) Market, only to find that honey sticks would not be available to us.

I did get a picture of a good old one-man-band performing on the street, though.

Fantastic.

So, we considered our options, and realized that we should try the Farmer’s Market.

Not sure where it was, we made our way up to the park blocks near Oak and peered north to see if they might be visible near the post office. No luck there, but on the way to our viewpoint I did see Elvis, made famous on the “Where’s the Art” cable access show run by 24-Hour Church of Elvis owner Stephanie Pierce.

We decided to head south on the Park Blocks to see if, perhaps, the Farmer’s Market was to be found that way. We walked and walked, The Missus’ feet getting more and more tired. However, undeterred by minor aches in the face of the bliss of a honey stick (or twenty), The Missus pushed on, and we made it down to the PSU district.

On the way, we saw the back-side of the faux-facade building. It’s amazing to look at the fake windows and such painted on in a forced 3-D perspective that leaves you wondering what’s real even as you’re rubbing your eyes.

Eventually, we found the Farmer’s Market by PSU and searched all of the booths, only to find no honey sticks. The Missus was crushed. I was bemused.

We ordered a snack on our way out, and sat down to watch this fellow who made bubbles with various instruments as the chick in pink seemed to be hitting on him (unsuccessfully, it appeared). Here’s him making a huge-ass bubble.

Having accomplished our main objective (walking alot) and having failed our secondary effort (obtaining honey sticks), we set out to head back to our vehicle.

The Missus was down-trodden. I was able to ignore her sorrow long enough to see this shot, which I liked. Somewhere along 6th Avenue.

On our way out of downtown, we stopped on the Hawthorne Bridge to look at the river below. Luckily, I looked up as well.

All in all, a nice walk.

But, for the love of God, tell me…

Where can you find honey sticks in Portland?

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