The Lovers Bench Is Gone

The other day I learned some sad news when I went on my favorite hike. At the viewpoint, the lovers bench was gone. Forever.

Back in May I wrote a post called The Bench Where Lovers Had Been.

I usually do the same hike every week, about two hours round-trip from my house. Toward the end of the uphill hike, there are countless switchbacks to really make you work for it.

But at the top of the hill is the greatest reward, a downtown Portland and Mount Hood view enjoyed from the comfort of a weathered bench. The lovers bench.

I played a little fiction game each time I went up there. I’d pick out a couple carved in the bench, then make up a boy meets girl story in my head before heading back home.

Over the past few months this bench even inspired me to consider writing my first short story. (Consider, meaning I haven’t started a damn thing. But I intended to after more quality time with the bench.)

Anyhoo, this was the bench then…

Carved Bench

Bench Carving

This is the bench now…

bench pittock mansion

bench with roses

So many professions of love tattooed on the decrepit wood had vanished. This strange, smooth wood no longer held stories of romance, foolishness, and hope.

The fresh and shiny bench didn’t woo me at all. To tell you the truth, this guy was kind of a son of a bitch…um, bench.

Yep, he was a real son of a bench.

I preferred the refreshingly true one from before, all genuine and battered, even if it was a splinter in the butt waiting to happen.

Reluctantly I sat down on the impostor and sipped my water in silence. The city continued on below, as if it never had a single thought about that bench on the hill above.

My fingers ran across the perfectly even surface, searching for the charming grooves that were once embedded in the wood. Craving those carvings of love.

Then I looked down at the brand new black armrest and smiled.

There it was…the very first one. And, a new lovers bench was born.

love graffiti


44 thoughts on “The Lovers Bench Is Gone

  1. Oh no, it was like a slap in the face when I got to the image of the new bench – so cold and ‘tidy’. But a perfect example of transience. I’m happy you immortalised the old one before it went and years from now, there’ll be new stories of what was once a new bench.

    1. It’s totally like a slap in the face, isn’t it? I can’t even imagine what my face looked like as I approached the bench. I’m sure the other tourists/couples/families hanging around the viewpoint thought I was cuckoo. Glad I got some pix of the old bench months ago. Had I known it was on its way out, I would have taken WAY more!

    1. Big sigh! I wonder how long that other bench was there—I guess at least since 2011, when Belly and Yan carved their love into the bench. I’m guessing this one will take a few years to get some personality. I’ll keep an eye on it. : )

    1. A new bench love story is certainly beginning! No, I won’t forget about the short story idea. I see that bench almost every week and it reminds me that one of these days I need to sit my tushie down and start writing again.

  2. It seems to me that the place wants the lover’s bench back, too, and is encouraging couples to pick up where they left off with the old. A new chapter, perhaps, in the never-ending story of the place?

    1. Isn’t that funny? The view of the city and mountains (on a clear day) while being surrounded by manicured gardens with a mansion looming behind definitely invokes a romantic feel. A new chapter was inevitable.

  3. Interesting how we can get attached to certain things isn’t it? Sounds familiar and I would have had the same reaction. The old one had charm, authenticity ànd of course a story to tell. I’m glad you took some pics of it and I’m curious to learn what short story you have in mind.
    On the other hand, there’s no reason why this one can’t become a story bench as well. It just needs more time and some creative lovers 😉

Speak your beautiful mind

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.