Day 24: Daring the Heat
Today was daring. I woke up knowing I had to check out of my Airbnb, but I hadn’t booked another stay. No hotel, no backup plan. Just the day ahead, wide open.
I told myself the shower I took that morning might be the only one I’d get today. Oregon had “extreme heat warnings,” pushing toward triple digits, so I thought maybe I’d escape to the coast. But first—REI.
I got my price adjustments done quickly, but then got talked into signing up for their credit card. I knew it wasn’t the smartest idea with the heat pressing in, but the promise of an extra 5% was tempting. After wandering through the aisles, I realized it was already noon and I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch.
The heat outside was unforgiving. Most patios weren’t an option with Max—it was already above 80 degrees—but I found a noodle spot. The staff surprised me with kindness: though Oregon signs often read “no pets allowed,” they let me sit inside with Max if I ordered to-go. We ate quietly in the cool shade, and it felt like a small victory.
Afterward, I parked in a shaded lot, A/C running, just to breathe. I considered Lake Oswego—it was close, only 11 miles away—and I needed to kill time before heading south later in the week for my gear pickup. I’d ordered a [hitch-mounted cargo box] from REI, and oddly enough, it was set to arrive in Eugene a day earlier than Beaverton.
Lake Oswego was worth the detour. I walked its quiet streets, treated myself to ice cream at Salt & Straw, and let myself dream for a moment as I passed lakefront homes in the $3M range. A fantasy, sure, but still—“I could be happy here,” I thought.
Eventually, I found Willamette Park, right along the river. There was a dog park, though oddly, no dogs. I rested under a tree, letting the evening cool finally settle in. By then, I’d spent most of the day dodging the sun from the safety of my air-conditioned car.
Later, I scouted hotels. One in Portland looked fine online, but the reality was less than comforting—transients on every corner, and the area felt unsafe. Out of instinct, I drove back toward Beaverton, to the hotel I’d stayed at before and loved. But when I tried to book, the signal dropped. By the time I regained service, the price had doubled.
Out of principle, I said no. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe tonight was the night to test myself—how long could I handle car camping?
By 9:30 p.m., I’d pulled into a spot I liked. By midnight, doubts crept in, and I almost gave up. The idea felt crazy. But somewhere deeper down, I wanted the challenge.
