
First ride - OK, we're cool, that was just the middle tower, really, it's smooth and steady, hey, check the knockout view
Friday, December 15, 2006
STEPHEN BEAVEN
Thursday morning, I sat in the lobby of OHSU's new Center for Health & Healing and memorized the faces of the people around me, just in case we plunged to our deaths during a ride on the Portland Aerial Tram.
I wanted to prepare myself for the worst and thus allay my unbridled neuroses.
Thursday's ride was a preview for the media, a harmless round-trip from the South Waterfront to Oregon Health & Science University's main campus before training runs begin today and the public opening late next month.
Awaiting the ride, everyone in the lobby seemed so happy. The OHSU people. The TV news reporters, with their shiny hair and white teeth. Even Portland Mayor Tom Potter.
Sarah Graham, a Portland native who helped design the tram, exhibited the outward cool of a fighter pilot on a Sunday stroll. While radio reporters jammed long microphones in her face and asked her questions for actual news stories, I had a more basic query:
So, this thing won't crash while I'm riding it, right?
"I can assure you of that," she said without missing a beat, "because if I'm wrong, I'll be right there with you."
She seemed fairly confident.
Still.
We boarded, squeezing cheek-to-jowl into a Jetsons-style silver pod. There were only a few seats, so nearly everyone stood. Cold air blew from overhead. And the drab gray color scheme looked more like a hospital waiting room from the '50s than a sleek new transportation alternative.
The trip started smoothly enough up the hill. Then -- I am not making this up -- we lurched, as if we'd lost altitude when we passed the tram's middle tower. My stomach twisted. There was a collective gasp, to which Potter, the tough-guy-ex-cop, quipped: ". . . a bunch of sissies back there."
But the three-minute ride continued, slow and steady, without a hitch. We didn't sway in the wind or plummet to the platform. In fact, there was so much excited chatter, I couldn't hear the rain whipping the windows. It felt, briefly, like we were part of something new, riding straight up into the future.
Then the doors slid open at the main campus, where we waited a few minutes and boarded another silver pod for the return trip.
From high above the city, as we made our way down, long lines of tiny red and white lights snaked along the streets, heading toward the gray skyline, creating a perfect Portland moment on a rainy December day.
We hit another bump as we passed the tram's middle tower again, and then, like that, it was over.
I stepped out at the Center for Health & Healing, grateful to stand on solid ground, safe and sound. Not so bad, really.
Just like I figured.