Cars raced past him, mere inches from the narrow bicycle lane, as he strode across New Young’s Bay Bridge into the labyrinthine streets of Astoria.
He was denied refuge from the rain by an eatery that couldn’t muster enough workforce to open its doors. Along the coast, job openings were plentiful, but paltry wages offered little solace when rent was an impossible dream.
Society dangled precariously on the edge of a demographic precipice, a truth he saw darkening the horizon with every passing day.
In 1940, workers outnumbered retirees 42 to 1. Now, it was a mere 3 to 1; a bleak forecast showed a staggering 2 to 1 by 2050. This gaping disparity was throwing the equilibrium of the system into chaos. The once-motivated workforce had been worn down, disenchanted, and he questioned whether any ember of drive would remain by 2050.
Dread clung to him, like the sodden fabric of his trail runners pounding the rain-slick asphalt.
His thoughts strayed to the windswept plains of Arizona where the family farm had suffered under the wrath of a severe windstorm. Over a thousand miles separated him from the devastation… Helpless and distant, he could do nothing to mend the roof torn asunder, the shed twisted like a plaything by the merciless gales.
That part of Arizona might not offer much, but it was where they had landed, surviving amidst adversity and scarce resources. A contradiction that gnawed at his understanding, magnified by the unrelenting rain, a harbinger of his dampened spirit.
A change of scenery was his hope, a rejuvenation his soul sought, yet the Astoria-Megler Bridge barred his way on foot. Bicycles could traverse, yes, but not pedestrians. He puzzled over this distinction, finally yielding to the prospect of the 24 bus. It should’ve arrived, yet it never materialized. Amidst business hours, a haunting silence prevailed – phones unanswered, social media messages ignored. It seemed as if the world had embarked on a collective hiatus, leaving him marooned in Astoria, a solitary figure, with the river’s expanse as the abyss before him.
#PNW #wandering