Well, I have spent far too much time trying to scour the internet for information on the Portland Outdoor Store for what I've got. It's nearing its hundredth birthday, and is held by the third generation of a family of owners. It's been in the news a few times over the past couple of years as a hotspot for law enforcement/homeless persons interaction. And it's known for its commitment to traditional American western wear, its saddle commission sales program, and its extraordinary stock of cowboy boots, as well as its sign. That's more or less all I've got. Well, that, and a decade of driving by, romanticizing the story of this place in my head according to its soot stained walls and ragged windows. There should be brawls. And Van Zandt films. And maybe a sad country song or two.
