The first weekend in May was meant to be a half-marathon run for Bart and I in Eugene but a knee wobble saw me cheering from the sidelines. We stopped in Portland on the way down, dropped Karen off and continued on to Eugene, down an extremely straight and boring I5 (note to biodiesel drivers: fill up before you go!).
Bart’s pal Alyssa showed us this fantastic butte above town (Eugene’s original name? Skinner’s Mudhole), as well as the spot where Steve Prefontaine “ran” off the road.
Here’s Bart looking knackered and Alyssa looking slightly guilty at having missed his big finish. Whoops. It was a bit rainy.
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