Journalist By Nature

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Mastering the Stairs

Italianate mansion moved in 1910

The topography of Portland significantly influenced its development: ancient Indian campsites on the river banks, the confluence of the Columbia and Willamette Rivers, the Tualatin Mountain ridge on the west side and the various buttes scattered on the east side of the city. Water traffic brought explorers, trade, pioneers and speculators. Last week we viewed the now "dry docked" houseboats of yesteryear, moved to solid foundations after floods ripped them from their moorings. From the riverbanks businesses and blue collar workers' homes sprang up, filling the flat land efficiently.

The moneyed businessmen and professionals who spent their working hours in the city built their extravagant homes higher in the west hills as a means of distancing themselves and their families from the lower income masses below. Elitists in their perspective, they formed exclusive neighborhoods on the steep hillsides where views of the Cascade Range mountains, the glistening rivers and the fertile valleys rewarded their expensive endeavors.

Early stairs to one home

Connecting these precipitous properties that terrace the west hills on winding, narrow roadways are thousands of stairs. Laura Foster authored a book, The Portland Stairs Book, listing many of their locations and mapped out routes for city hikers to explore them. Today's hike encompassed the area between OHSU and the tunnels of Highway 26, a 3.5 mile jaunt through elegance, decay, Italianate, algae-covered siding, apartments, and a homeless camp mid-stairway.

Dragon boat warriors at practice

Meeting at the Riverplace Breakwater Dock we remarked on the development of the riverfront area with its high density housing, marina, foot paths and views of the city's bridges. A team of dragon boat paddlers gathered for an early morning workout, oars slicing through the murky waters in coordinated tempo, hearts yearning for a fine display of teamwork at the summer Rose Festival events. Climbing the first of our 631 stairs we followed Montgomery Street west, crossing the busy Naito Parkway, threading our way through the Portland State Campus, crossing the busy and noisy I-405 trench to arrive in a quieter area on Broadway Drive.

White "ball" is someone's place

Early 1900's workers' homes sit adjacent to newer, more modern structures. Some lots have common wall row houses, each with a different face and color, mimicking the original houses below. Steeply pitched lots are fronted with stone and cement walls engineered to hold back the hillside. Moss covers many of the surfaces in the deep, cool shade of this eastern exposure as ivy makes its inexorable raid everywhere. A set of 201 wooden stairs with 13 landings and an encouraging "you are beautiful" stencil is the major challenge of this hike. Half way up, a plastic-shrouded, legless armchair squats on a landing, making someone's "home". We pass by as quietly and quickly as possible, not peeking into the tenant's space.

The narrow, rough and aged roads wind around the curvature of the hills, stone walls on the upper sides and beautiful views both near and far on the lower sides. Houses here have three to five levels, many with little balconies, copious windows, tiny garages and impossible maintenance issues. Steel girders support some of the cantilevered structures while cement, stone and brick foundations hold up the older homes. Happening upon a real estate agent just leaving one house, we discovered the asking price was $675,000 for this 2500 square foot, tri-level, kiwi-fronted with a glorious new kitchen listing. She was hoping to sell it to her ex-husband. But that's a story for another day.

More stairs, some now descending, others ascending lead us by mansions of Mediterranean, English timber and Italianate architectural styles. These are homes you could never see whizzing by at 60 m.p.h. on the freeway, yet they watch you in silent aloofness. One multi-storied Italianate, built in 1882, was moved in 1910 to its present location. Imagine the task using hand tools, block and tackle cranes, oxen or horse teams and huge wagons plus the challenge of elevation. It would be herculean today; how much more so a hundred years ago! Another 1871 mansion was moved in order to make way for Lincoln High School. It currently houses an immersion French School. A heritage Blue Atlas cedar marks the corner of its property in the shadow of a high rise apartment building under construction.

The Tunnels on 26

Strolling sharply downhill we entered a tunnel running under the twin tunnels of Highway 26, this one joining up with S.W. Jefferson in the Goose Hollow neighborhood. Jefferson was originally a muddy thoroughfare travelled by farmers bringing their produce from the western areas to market in the city. Rain only made it an unusable quagmire so planks were positioned to create a passable road in the winter. The Goose Hollow MAX stop is marked by symbolic slabs of wood in a nod to the early planking.

After our leg-fatiguing stairs tour we stopped by the Oregon Culinary Institute in hopes of gaining a table for lunch but alas, the reservations were filled for the meal. The school manager suggested a graduate-staffed eatery down the avenue called the Leaky Roof Gastro Pub. Here we found warmth, no leaks and hearty fare while surrounded by photographs of elegant Portland architecture. With the precipitation steadily increasing, we decided to catch the MAX there rather than hoofing it back to the waterfront, leaving half our group to enjoy the urban stroll to their car near the dock. The $2 RT fare sure beats the afternoon traffic!

Bridges: MAX & Marquam

OMSI below Marquam

Marina and downtown towers

Intrepid hikers of the day

Artful repose

Bookshelf wall

New amid the old

S.W. Br****** oadway

Half way up 201 steps

Wood bracing. Scary!

Algae - 3 stories up/down

Triple decks

Kiwi

More stairs

Common wall row houses

Down. Yes!

Gingerbread

The French School

Heritage Blue Atlas cedar

Pyracantha brightens a winter day

Significant circumference

MAX stop road plank nod

Sunday, January 11, 2015

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.