Journalist By Nature: Trekking Into History

Willamette Park sunrise

Driving toward Portland at 60 mph through the Terwilliger curves, as the traffic reporters call them, or traveling north on Barbur Boulevard or Macadam Avenue you catch glimpses of the city and its bridges as well as snatches of large buildings and green spaces. But by trekking on foot through the topography of Willamette Park and west up the Tualatin Mountains you gain an intimate look at some of Portland's origins and the masterminds that influenced its development.

Launching our 2015 hiking season we followed another of Laura Foster's well-researched city walks in Portland Hill Walks. Fog and low clouds obscured the early morning views as we rendezvoused in the 35 degree chill at Willamette Park south of the city. A persistently rising sun began to dissolve the fog and a blue sky fought its way through the grey blanket of winter. A broad expanse of green lawn with a gaggle of Canadian geese camping on it unrolled before us, stretching to the banks of the Willamette River. Early morning walkers and joggers made their way along parts of the 40-Mile Land Trust Loop at the edge of the lawn while the lovely Portland skyline brightened with the advancing daylight.

The low-lying land of present day Willamette Park was originally know as Carp Park for the fish by that name caught by kids looking to make a nickel by selling them to local Chinese gardeners for fertilizer. Excavation for the Vista Ridge Tunnel was deposited here during its construction in the 1960's and so raised the flood-prone elevation of the land. The Olmsted Brothers, preeminent landscape architects of the early twentieth century, influenced many Portland neighborhoods with their visionary plans and designs.

Houseboat on firm foundation

The streets closest to the park contain renovated houseboats that were once moored along the riverbanks in the 1890's and early 1900's. Occasional flooding caused them to break their moorings and float downriver, only to be retrieved by their owners and attached to well-rooted trees along the bank. Eventually the houseboats were placed upon permanent foundations to solidly float well above the flood line and today sit as proud reminders of those early residents. In the absence of bridges at that time, ferries were the only way to cross the Willamette River and reach other developing communities on the east side. The neighborhood along Miles Place currently has infill houses and apartments amid aging evergreens and oaks, each residence reaching skyward for its share of the river view and Oaks Park with its ferris wheel and famed roller rink across the waters.

Climbing higher on the hillside we navigated the busy intersections of Barbur Boulevard, Naito Parkway, Macadam Avenue and Taylors Ferry Road. As is often the case in Portland, streets are named for city movers and shakers, in this case Bill Naito, a businessman and developer and John L. McAdam, a Scottish road builder of nineteenth century fame. Safely into a neighborhood again we eschewed the efficient but hedged stairway and took the steep road along the face of the hills to enjoy the expansive views of the river, the east side toward Milwaukie and Oaks Park as well as the bridge-fronted postcard view of downtown Portland, its boxy towers competing for skyscraper status.

Fulton Community Gardens in a park of the same name contains individual plots maintained by the locals where they grow luscious produce and avoid the use of chemicals, thus maintaining their certification as a National Wildlife Federation habitat. A January garden bears little resemblance to a lush high summer vegetable plot but hope springs eternal in the gardener's heart. Weeds will be plucked out and tiny sprouted starts will be lovingly placed in the rich, black earth and nurtured to a season of harvest, enjoyment and sharing.

Passing by Wilson High School we skirt a portion of the extensive George Himes Park, a sort of Forest Park miniature at the top of the Tualatin Mountains, and then follow a paved path into and through the park to arrive under the giant-pillared supports of the I-5 freeway and the more ancient trestle structures supporting Barbur Boulevard. Tagging on the structure walls indicates camps of homeless squatters with their blue plastic tents and scattered possessions. As we make our way down a series of wood-fronted steps the sounds of rushing cars and shifting truck gears on the cement ribbon above us drown out any of the quiet forest bird calls and trickling waters nearby. Tenacious English ivy, scourge of Portland's forests, pursues its climbing embrace of anything vertical, overtaking whole sections of forest in its unstoppable tsunami of growth. This pretty but suffocating villain is battled on the one hand by bands of volunteers who rip it out while local nurseries on the other hand sell it as a landscaping material. On a

happier note, we find early pink camellias blooming in their perfect petal patterns and touch fuzzy pussywillows now pushing their soft flower pods out to discourage the winter doldrums. Bright bulbs are not yet in evidence but given more sunny days it won't be long before daffodils, hyacinths and bluebells make their brilliant, cheery appearance.

Back at Willamette Park we picked up our vehicles and made for Lake Oswego to celebrate a hiking companion's significant birthday. At her request we lunched at Manzana's on the lake and shared plates of fish, beef and portabellas as well as a couple of birthday desserts. The companionship of our hiking group is sweet indeed and we anticipate many new and bonding adventures in the great Northwest this year! Stay tuned.