Every time I think Portland has shaken off its small town ways I come across something like this. While driving to work the other day I came around a corner on SW Terwilliger and encountered a ramshackle station wagon parked in the middle of the street. Attached to the rear bumper was a rope stretching over to an ancient, quarter-ton pickup truck.

The night before, possibly even that same day, someone had attempted to drive this truck up a 12 foot, 60-degree incline and on to a lawn overlooking Terwilliger. With its tires immersed in mud and English ivy, the truck wasn't about to budge. The driver in the station wagon, a wiry guy that looked like Jay from the Kevin Smith movies, gunned the engine and the bumper immediately began to buckle. Before wackiness could ensue, he realized his mistake. He tipped his black Slipknot hat to me as he removed the rope and cleared the street. The delay cost me five minutes but, really, it was worth it.

The truck? I'd have to check but I'm willing to bet it's still there. In releated news, earlier today I watched two police officers deal with a teenager mysteriously wielding a large plumber's wrench outside of the Central Library.