Sometimes we have to leave Portland to realize that there is another world out there. A world very, very different from the cycling utopia of Portland. A world where things don’t revolve around coffee, bikes, and bridges. In Ashland, Oregon things revolve around coffee, bikes, and patchuli oil. Lots of patchuli oil. It had been a long time since I lived in Ashland, and the things I remembered were vague. I remembered that everyone had blond dreadlocks, and the panhandlers generally offered to send you “positive vibes’ in exchange for change. ...