The Mt. Scott Community Center has water slides and a roller rink, but the real spirit of the Mount Scott neighborhood seems to reside at the Old Gilbert Road Tavern (5501 SE 72nd Ave., oldgilbertroad.com), which is located on Harold Street.
In a residential crack between FoPo and Woodstock, the Gilbert Road is a rough-and-tumble, three-room space with a vaguely Masonic logo, a world of attitudinal kitsch on the walls, and pool tables in the back. Multiple avatars of Bernie Sanders preside over the middle room, the Champagne cocktail menu on each table declares bubbly to be "classy as fuck," and there's two guys out front reading graphic novels and two more at the bar discussing their careers in animation. On any given night, the stage might feature local folk-punk, a reading event devoted to the apocalypse, or a monthly Gilbert Road Grotesque bizarro night emceed by a woman dressed like a monkey.
On a recent night, the cook making the chili dog special and the five varieties of "chicken stripper" sandwich had a neck tattoo and seemed to know everyone's name. He was playing good cop for the gruff bartender, who stared at newcomers like they were made of farts but served decent beer like Pfriem and the new grapefruit gose from Ecliptic.
But whatever got into Mount Scott's water out here, it's got plenty of fellow feeling. As the Blazers' season drained out on the TV with another bucket from Steph Curry, a guy in the back called out to thank the team for the season, and the whole bar clapped.