There is a large, framed and very old photograph hanging in the back hallway of a bar in downtown Portland that captured my attention the very first time I saw it.  This washed out, turn of the century black and white photograph shows a barren hillside, upon which sits two homes, and before them stretches what appears to be an enormous trestle, climbing the hillside at an impossible angle, and holding upon it’s back two train cars, within which several well dressed men pose, seemingly convinced this is a safe and reasonable endeavor.  Each time I would pass this photograph in the hallway, I would ponder the lunacy of the situation it portrayed – this impossibly angled, pier of a structure, slapped together in a tangled mess of wooden beams and nails, somehow pulling two train cars up a hillside to nowhere. Who were these men and where were they going?  And the two homes… who lived in such an odd place?  Where in the world was this?

Then one day while staring deep into the image I realized I actually recognized the shining, castle-like home in the middle of the photograph.  It was the home of my landlord, whose apartment in the house next door I had begun renting a few weeks earlier.  Suddenly the name of my new street, Cable Avenue, began to make sense. However, as there was no giant cable car riding up the hillside, I was left with more questions than answers. Last week I happened to return to that bar, and while passing the portrait was once again struck by the sheer grandeur of this project – and decided it was time to learn its history.

In the summer of 1887 the Portland Cable Railway Company was formed with the goal of providing a means to transport people from downtown Portland up to Portland Heights.  While some homes had been built at the higher elevation, the rainy Portland winters and primitive dirt roads prevented year-round residence. By creating a means for people to get there, those that had purchased the land while it was cheap would be able to turn a nice profit on all the newly desired lots upon the southwest hills.

The trestle started at a power station now buried beneath US26, near the entranceway of the tunnels that carve through those mountains today, and ran at a 20% grade up 18th Street, climbing up to Jackson Street in Portland Heights. At that point the line continued along the ground to a turntable on Spring Street before turning and descending back down.

It would take nearly three years before the first cable cars would run up the more than 1000 foot length of the trestle, on February 22, 1890.  Two days later on February 24th, one of the cars heading down the trestle failed to connect with the cable and began racing down the platform.  The novice train operators panicked, jumping off the car, leaving three passengers behind, no doubt screaming for their lives. The car eventually flipped at the turn on Jefferson. No fatalities were reported however.

On April 11, 1892, Alice Druhot, the widow of Felix Druhot, purchase a parcel of land from J.C. and Annie Shofner, and built her house, gleaming white amongst the tarnished hillside, in its castellated Italian Villa style.  Her son, Arnold most likely was the architect. Lots along the now popular Portland Heights were selling for around $600, although lots with homes on them could fetch up to $5000.  The Shofner’s had purchased the land from the Smith brothers, Walter and Preston, the later of which was a prime investor and president of the Portland Cable Railway Company. Alice received a mortgage of $800 from Lombard Investment Company and began construction along what was listed as “18th, alley” – a lot with a spectacular view of downtown Portland and the modern cable line running up the hillside. Upon completion of the new home, Alice moved in along with her five sons, Edward, Carl, Felix, Arnold and Harvey. It was said Mrs. Druhot lowered her “large and elegant” furnishings from Montgomery Avenue, high above.

Much like the housing booms of today however, Alice’s time in the  home upon the hill was short-lived, and three years later financial trouble set in, and in 1895 and then again in 1896 she failed to pay the principal on her loan and found herself behind on taxes. On January 23rd, 1897 the home was foreclosed on, and remained vacant for the next few years.

The cable line didn’t fair any better. Six months after service began, in July of 1890, the Portland Cable Railway Company would declare bankruptcy, but the operation would be continued by the Portland Railway Company, which would later become the Portland Railway, Light and Power Company, and eventually merge with Portland General Electric (PGE) long after the lines were gone. In 1896 all but the trestle portion of the line was converted to electric power.

Better roads were being built, electric lines were replacing cable cars, and with the completion of the Forge Street Bridge in 1904, later to be replaced by the Vista Bridge in 1926, the cable line and the enormous trestle that supported it became unnecessary.  All 1000 feet of the wooden structure was demolished in 1905, and no sign of it remains today.

I am often in awe of the pioneer spirit that defines Portland’s history – and the wild entrepreneurs and dreamers who built impossible things.  I’m equally amazed at how quickly those creations and their stories disappear.

Resources used in researching this post:

National Register of Historic Places
Alice Druhot House Registration for National Register of Historic Places
Oregon Historical Society
The Oregonian
D. D. Tinzeroes

Has it really been almost two months since I’ve written a blog post?  My dear, faithful readers – my sincerest apologies, but your humble narrator has been rather busy carving out an entirely new life in which to live – and thus has been unable to find the time to document this transformation, or comment on the success.  This evening I have found that moment.

At the beginning of this year, I sat down and I wrote out 50 goals to transform my life.  I found myself running a struggling web development company, one I had greatly considered abandoning at the end of 2010.  I was uninspired and honestly unhappy.  I was living in the same apartment I had for five years – and my habits and the life they had formed no longer motivated me.  I decided I could either continue in this pathetic direction, or radically transform things.  An old friend had performed an interesting goals project, and I took it upon myself to do the same.  What began was a journey that took me to this moment.

Today, half way through 2011, I am happy to report that my life has been radically improved.  I became re-inspired by my business, and after a lot of effort and clarity of purpose, May was my best month of billing in nearly five years.  Then in June we crushed that sales record!  I am confident July will beat even that.  Both Jessica and myself hired on folks, and the new energy in the office has been wonderful.  I closed my largest deal ever three weeks ago, and the investments I made in learning Adobe Business Catalyst and cleaning up the financial side of things have entirely paid off.  The Interactive Dept. is a thriving web development studio – and I couldn’t be more proud.

At the start of May I began taking a long hard look at my negative habits, and for the most part have really cleaned up my life.  While I was never in serious peril with my drinking and such – recognizing that there was a time and place for everything, and making sure I observed my actions carefully greatly transformed how I spent my freetime – and more importantly, gave me the clear head I needed to tackle so many other smaller issues in my life that had always seemed impossible to resolve.  My hands are back on the wheel and I am truly driving this life – and that is extremely rewarding.

One of my goals at the start of the year was to visit several apartments I couldn’t currently afford.  One of the places I visited was Tupelo Alley – a gorgeous apartment complex on N. Mississippi.  It was twice my current rent, but ten-times the quality.  At the end of June I moved into Tupelo Alley, into a wonderful 1-bedroom apartment on the 4th floor, overlooking Mississippi and Forest Park to the west.  Much as I had assumed, once I saw what was “outside my reach” – my reach expanded.  I began to contemplate living in a place like that, and sure enough, the thoughts grew to a point that they felt more like memories, and before I knew it I was signing the lease and getting the keys.  As I never worried about the “how” – the universe was kind enough to massively improve the revenue my business was making, and thus everything fell into place as it almost always seems to do.

All these wonderful new experiences provided me with a high that I’ve been riding for nearly a month now.  Last night however,  I sat down for the first time in a long time and asked a really hard question.  ”NOW WHAT?”

It’s easy to feel you’ve crossed the finish line – that you’ve won.  I can sit down on my couch, confident that it looks a million times better in this new place, watch the sun setting over the west hills and say, “well done!”  But what’s the fun in that?  So last night for the first time in far too long, I meditated (or day-dreamed as I prefer to say) about what could be better than this.  Almost immediately I felt this overwhelming energy, as if my brain was saying, “Oh there you are!”  For nearly an hour I simply relaxed and contemplated all that I still desired, while reflecting on how insanely blessed I was to possess the gifts I’ve received thus far this year.  I think I had generally forgotten how good it feels to simply wish for things – to relax entirely and reflect on that which you desire.  To conjure up scenarios in your mind and see yourself living the life you desire that is currently beyond your grasp. To not worry about the “how” or the “why” – but just see yourself enjoying an ideal life.  I had forgotten how good it feels to see yourself in your mind’s eye living a life fulfilled.

Perhaps it was easier to daydream when things were unsatisfying – an escape from the mundane and freedom from an undesired station in life.  However, as someone who truly believes thoughts become reality – I know it’s a horrible habit to let those thoughts fade.  Or worse, to let the mind travel aimlessly like a ship without a captain.  So last night I began anew – from a far grander vantage point no doubt – to envision where my life should take me.  Thoughts centered around getting entirely out of debt (primarily tax burdens I’m still struggling with) and improved personal relationships. I dreamt of sharing what I currently have with someone else, and getting to share in their life as well.  I contemplated my health and how I could exercise more and improve my diet.  I dreamt of places I still longed to visit, and the beach house on Maui I someday desire to call home.

I felt beyond refreshed when I had completed my thoughts.  While it is wonderful to come home to this new apartment and gratifying to go to work at such a vibrant and exciting business – it is always equally important to dream of what’s yet to come.  Because it will.  It always does.

I didn’t grow up in Portland, Oregon.  The first two thirds of my life were spent on the east side of America – and I’m not certain I had even heard of a place called Portland before some friends and I decided to move here.  As such, what little knowledge I possess of the history of this town I have pieced together, either from the one or two native Oregonians I know, OPB programs, or Chuck Palaniuk’s book “Fugitives and Refugees“.

In the lower SE where I live, there are several unique buildings, the purpose or seemingly misplaced grandeur of which I find peculiar, as they often suggest a far greater story then can be observed in their current surroundings.  No building has consumed my imagination more than the 12-story Weatherly Building on the corner of SE Grand & Morrison.  Dominating the SE skyline, it seems oddly alone standing there by itself.  Built in 1926 by ice cream magnate George Warren Weatherly – the building was the anchor of the newly coined “up-town district”.  Eighty-five years later, what remains of any semblance of a district are a few struggling furniture stores and a handful of bars.

There were several things that puzzled me over the years about the Weatherly.  Beyond the obvious questions like “why is it the only tall building in the area?” and “how awesome must those two penthouses at the top be? ” – the one thing that really bothered me was why it seemed as if half the building was missing.  For while the building stretches along the length of Morrison, it reserves itself to the far third of the block along Grand, and drops off from its dozen stories abruptly and with little fanfare on its south facing side, all to make room for a rather uninspired and misplaced parking lot. It seemed an unlikely pair.

Then last week while flipping through a book of historic photos of Portland, I came across a remarkable photograph, and discovered it’s true other half, the Oriental Theatre.

It turns out when Mr. Weatherly built his SE tower, he was convinced by movie theater operator Walter Eugene Tebbets, who also ran the Hollywood Theater, to build a massive theater beside it.  In fact, the Oriental Theatre, designed to resemble an East Indian temple, was the second largest theater in Portland, behind Arlene Schnitzer Hall.

Photographs of the interior show a fascinating movie palace, designed by the same pair who built the Bagdad on SE Hawthorne.  Two giant dragons guarded the main staircase, and statues of Hindu gods and the Buddha lined the halls. Intricate carvings and near life-sized statues of elephants and apes adorned the interior pillars of the grand theater hall, reaching towards a domed ceiling and massive chandelier, glowing in the brightness of over 5000  lightbulbs.  The enormous stage was framed by an ornately designed arch, topped with a devilish face, mouth open, fangs revealed – whose eyes would glow when it was show time.

On opening night, a full house excitedly filled the theater, including the mayor who declared while “he had seen more expensive movie houses, he’d never seen a more beautiful one.” The house lights went down, and the orchestra in their pit began playing alongside the giant Wurlitzer organ.  Guests watched Daphne Pollard traipse around in a bathing suit in “The Girl From Everywhere” – a bathing beauty silent comedy of sorts, as well as the Austrian epic “The Moon of Israel“, whose scene portraying the parting of the Red Sea was said to be far greater than it’s American counterpart in “The Ten Commandments“.

After the show, the audience flooded out into the spacious lobby, and then out into the evening air, to grab one of the street cars that ran down Grand and Morrison avenues at the time. All of that is gone now – although construction on new train lines have begun out front of the Weatherly.  The Oriental Theatre was torn down in the spring of 1970, and replaced with the parking lot that still stands there, or sits rather, today. It’s sad to think such a stunning theater was once a few blocks down the street from where I live.

These days, when most things are built with budget and efficiency in mind, it’s hard to imagine an ice cream man would spend nearly half a million dollars in the twenties to build such a wildly beautiful and imaginative movie house.  How wealthy the community must have felt to have such a splendorous structure in its ranks.  That the simple act of going to a movie could transport you, not just on the screen, but in every detail of the experience – from the glow of the neon-lit marquee, to the sheer extravagance of mural lined halls, private lounges, and the vast balcony that overlooked it all.  While we may have gained better sound and 3D effects over the years, something about the experience of going to a movie was also lost, or perhaps just buried under a parking lot in the lower SE.

Some photos from Wikipedia:

If you know me – you probably know I love a good sandwich.  Growing up in New York, it seemed like there were at least a couple great delicatessens in every town – that would slice up a sandwich fresh for you when you ordered it.  When I first moved out here in 2001, Portland seemed like the land of Subways and Quiznos.  The carts hadn’t yet rolled into town and sandwich options seemed few and far between.  Luckily, these days, either through trial and error, or just the recent rise in great sandwich shops – the options are plentiful.  So without further delay, in no particular order, my top five sandwiches in the city of Roses.

1) The Park Kitchen – Meat Cheese Bread
1406 SE Stark – http://meatcheesebread.com

Perhaps I’m biased because MCB is a mere four blocks from my apartment, but seriously, how can you resist the mouth-watering combination of flank steak, pickled onions and blue cheese mayo, piled high up on a delicious roll. A few visits back – the guy who typically works behind the register when I pick-up my order asked, “have you ever tried anything else here?” I looked up at the menu, thought for a second, and replied, “No,  I haven’t.”

“You should try something else next time. They’re all pretty good,” he suggested.  I looked back, enjoying the awkward silence and then agreed – “I should…” I then took my Park Kitchen, and left the small sandwich shop on Stark, knowing full well that the next time I called, I’d be ordering the very same thing.

2) The Italian Sub – Tribute’s East Coast Sandwiches & Pizza
2272 NW Kearney St. - http://tributespdx.com

When I lived up on NW 23rd, I became a big fan of the italian sub over at Tribute’s, and would stop by regularly to pick one up.  Living much futher over on the east-side now, a journey out to Tributes is a mission to solve a craving – and it’s always worth the effort. I’m typically leery of any restaurant that tries to pass itself off as authentic “east-coast” or “new york” style.  I sincerely doubt the founders of the New York Pizza chain in Amsterdam had ever tried a slice of New York’s finest.  But Tribute’s stays true to their word, using only Boar’s Head meats, and lots of them: ham, genoa salami, proscuitto, capicola, mortadella, sopressata, pepperoni – all on some delicious bread, perfectly toasted.  This isn’t a Subway sub, you’re not going to loose weight – you’re going to actually enjoy it.  Throw in the classic Budweiser-sponsored decor, a big-screen tv playing the game, and a few beers on tap – and for a brief second I’m back in my hometown.

3) The Philly Steak – Theo’s (formerly Fords On Fifth)
121 NW 5th Avenue - http://theosportland.com

Stuffed to the brim with thinly sliced beef, grilled onions and peppers, and smothered in provolone, the Philly was my staple at Ford’s On Fifth, so when the name of the place changed I got worried.  Luckily the menu (and most of the kitchen staff) remained, along with the same great tasting sandwiches and sides. I’m sure Theo’s must close at some hour of the day or night – but I’ve never seen it.  In the morning I can pick up a bacon-egg and cheese, and at lunch or dinner or post first-thursday, there’s a ton of options from burgers to cold sandwiches.  But their specialty is certainly the cheese steaks, and my money is on the philly.

4) The Chicken Parm Sub – Geraldi’s Italian Eating Place
518 SW 4th Ave

When I used to work downtown, I was a regular over at Geraldi’s – not that the old guy wearing the Red Sox cap behind the counter ever seemed to recognize me.  No matter, they made great sandwiches and the best chicken parm sub I’ve found in Portland.  The breaded chicken cutlets are perfect – and the bread toasted to perfection and crammed with mozzarella.  Plus you really can’t beat the atmosphere of this classic sandwich shop – still a regular lunch stop for me if I find myself “downtown”.  Their homemade sauce is beyond tasty – and if you’re not in the mood for the chicken parm, you can’t go wrong with their meatballs either.

5) Italian Cured Meats – Bunk Sandwich (Bunk Bar)
621 SE Morrison - http://bunksandwiches.com

When Bunk Sandwich opened up down the street from my apartment, I couldn’t understand why on Earth anyone would wait in a line, running outside and along the sidewalk, in the rain, for a sandwich.  Then I tasted one, shut the hell up and got in line again and again. Bunk sandwiches are just damn good – and with the recent addition of Bunk Bar – you can get your hands on one almost any hour of the day (although sandwich runs in the late hours to Bunk Bar beneath the overpasses of Belmont are sketchy at best). This is another shop where just about anything on the menu is going to treat you well – but as always, my tastes run towards the italian combo side of sandwich spectrum, and the Italian Cured Meats is a spicy delight.  The picante provolone and Mama’s lil’ peppers add a tasty kick – while the vinegar and onions keep it honest.

This year was pretty good for travel, based on my map above. For the third year in a row I returned to Europe, only this time with my Dad. The thought of traveling through Ireland with my father had first occurred to me the last time I was in Dublin, for a series of concerts (Bob Dylan, Counting Crows, Blind Pilot). I had been bouncing between various pubs and was on my way back to my hotel when it dawned on me that my Dad would very much like this place. I had given him a call right then and there, and a year later we were flying off to make the thought a reality.

The two of us had a wonderful time stumbling around the emerald isle. From the picturesque farming towns of Dingle and Doolin, to the energy-filled cities of Galway and Dublin, we spent nearly two weeks traveling the island, and meeting a wide variety of locals and tourists alike, all the while putting back pints of Guinness and shots of Jameson. We then jumped the channel for a couple days in the always lovely Amsterdam. We met up with two good friends of mine from college, and proceeded to explore all the delights this city of canals has to offer. This was my fifth visit to Amsterdam, so I got to play tour-guide. It’s nice to return to the same place many times – as you notice something new with each visit.

On the States side, I got to spend more time exploring California this year. A conference in Anaheim provided the perfect excuse to rent a car and travel north, first to San Buenaventura, and then up to Santa Barbara. Both beach towns were absolutely gorgeous and provided me with some much needed relaxation and sun. Then a few weeks ago I had the pleasure of traveling back down to San Francisco for a few days. Always wonderful to see friends there, and explore one of my favorite cities on the planet. I got to watch my friend Liz (who would have her first child a week later) perform in Annie Bacon’s Folk Opera, a music project I had donated to earlier in the year.

This summer I also returned to the mountains with my good friend’s Chris and Seth for a few days on the Pacific Crest Trail, this time in the Mt. Jefferson Wilderness Area. There is a far-off dream of someday walking across all of Oregon (about a month) along the PCT. For now, week-long trips will have to suffice. Getting to escape to these amazing forests is one of the great advantages of living in Portland, Oregon – and one I’m going to try to take more advantage of in the coming year.

Throw in a few trips to the east coast, two trips to my new favorite small town, Astoria, and a jaunt or three to the Oregon coast, and all in all it was a well travelled year.

So what does 2011 hold? Well so far I know I will be traveling to Hawaii for the first time in February. Beyond excited to explore Maui, and get my first taste of life in the tropics. This could be the start of a whole new lifestyle. I’ll be staying on a 3-acre estate up in the high country, but also hope to rent a hotel room on the beach for at least a night or two.

I am currently discussing plans for a Napa Valley adventure with one of my favorite people. I’ve yet to explore California’s wine country – and the thought of biking around Napa with a light wine buzz and someone who shares my sense for the hilarity of life sounds too good to pass up.

There are two family-based trips I’d very much like to do this year.  First, to visit my cousin Russell and his wife Melissa outside of Atlanta, GA.  They had a kid this year, and it’s been far too long since we’ve gotten to hang-out.  I’ll probably coordinate this trip with the football season, so this might have to wait for later in 2011.   In addition, I am very late on a planned trip to Ohio to visit my cousin’s Sean and Mike.  I’ve always loved these dudes, and Sean just had his first child this year as well – so a little family reunion is long overdue. Contemplating working that into another visit to Chicago and possibly a train adventure similar to the wild 30-day rail trip I took four years ago (although nor nearly as long, I learned my lesson).

In September I’m looking to take another 3-4 week vacation. Right now it’s a toss up between 3 concepts:

1) RETURN TO BARCELONA. Hard to believe it was two years ago that I returned from 3 months living in Spain. I fell madly in love with Barcelona and have wanted to return since the moment I left. The thought of spending a few weeks relaxing along the Mediterranean while eating mouthwatering tapas, drinking delicious red wine, and testing out my broken spanish on breathtakingly beautiful catalonian women sounds delightful!

2) CHINA. Anyone who reads my blog or posts regularly knows China has been on my mind for some time. Beyond the economic boom they are experiencing, the chance to witness a culture in epic transition really captivates my imagination. Whether it be new cities soaring to wild heights, or just exploring an ancient history that has always fascinated me, there is no doubt that a few weeks in China would be a life-changing experience.

3) VIETNAM/CAMBODIA. Ever since my friend Jess’ brother returned from Vietnam with photos of an adventure unlike any I’d seen, I’ve had a unending desire to explore this region of the world. Just recently I was chatting with a bartender at my local wateringhole and discovered he had lived there for about a year. The conversation provided even more reasons for me to explore this non-traditional vacation spot – as well as seemed an unlikely coincidence that such insights would be provided to me at that moment. As rarely do things happen without some greater purpose, I can only take this chance conversation as a sign to explore this possibility further.

Regardless, it will be a great year – that much I have decided. I’d like to keep my travel budget small this year while I pay off all my outstanding debt (one of my major personal goals for 2011). Figuring out how to get the most adventure from the most conservative budget will be a challenge. I’ll be sure to post tips or ideas I discover in my planning.

Have a wonderful 2011 – and get out and see the world!

Of the many things I love about the apartment I’ve called home for several years now – the breathtaking view of the Portland city skyline is the highlight.  Looking out from my bedroom, I can see all of downtown Portland, behind it the rolling west hills, and before it the lower industrial Southeast.  In the heart of this architectural hustle and bustle there was a long black rectangle that spelled out in clear, white block text, “PORTLAND”.

Well, actually it said “PORTLAND STORAGE CO.” – but each morning as I looked out the window it was like gazing at a well designed poster – there was my city, there was its name.  Anyone who has ever looked at my Facebook photo gallery knows I have taken an unreasonable number of photos of this vista, especially at sunset.  Always front and center in these compositions was the “Portland Storage Co.” sign.

No more.  In the last month, they painted over my beloved sign and replaced it with an ad for Alaskan Airlines.  Now instead of seeing the word “PORTLAND” bold and clear each morning, I get to see a colorful reminder that the weather is a hell of a lot nicer someplace else.

Portland is no stranger to signs and billboards.  If I ever attempted to count all of the various forms of signage I can see from my bedroom window, I’m sure my eyes would give out before I’d spotted them all.  This is not a new phenomenon either. While working on a project last year for Central City Concern I had to marvel at how even at the turn of the century, there were so many signs on the sides of buildings.  If you walk through Old Town, and various other parts of the city, many of those old painted signs still exist, however faded. If those signs could last, why not mine?

Okay, to be honest I’ve never once gone to the Portland Storage Company.  Perhaps if I had stored some items there, or recommended it to a friend, they might have held out against Clear Channel.  However, my appreciation of a sign for a store, over my feelings for the store itself puts me in pretty good company here in Portland.

Each day as I walk to work across the Burnside Bridge, I pass by the Made In Oregon sign that sits atop the White Stag Building. At one time there was a Made In Oregon store located on the first floor.  That was many years ago, but several attempts to remove or alter the sign have met with serious protest – and so the sign remains – lit up every evening and even decorated at the holidays – all to advertise a store that isn’t even there.  The funny thing is that this isn’t even an original sign – for almost forty years, the sign had advertised White Stag Sportswear. It wasn’t till 1997 that “Made In Oregon” was written.

And who can forget the ludicrous tale of the Hung Far Low sign?  What some have called a Chinatown landmark was once just the sign of yet another of Portland’s less than desirable Chinese restaurants.  When the establishment closed, the sign was eventually removed, much to the dismay of many locals.  A movement was started, fundraisers, and even a block-party to bring back the sign.  Now I enjoy a good dick joke as much as the next guy, but a fundraiser to bring back the sign of a Chinese restaurant that shut down?  I went in there once with friends and did the old “slow walk-out backwards” routine – so I can understand why it closed.  I can’t understand why there was an all night block party to bring it back.

Will there be a block-party to bring back the Portland Storage sign?  I highly doubt it, although in this city, I wouldn’t give up all hope. Remarkably, two weeks ago the Hung Far Low sign returned.  It now sits above Ping, one of my favorite restaurants in the area – advertising for a shity dining adventure you’re three years too late to experience.  And last week the city of Portland took ownership of the Made In Oregon sign.  According to reports, they plan to change the wording to read “Portland, Oregon”.  A small victory, but I’ll take it.

As an avid traveler and west-coast transplant who is lucky enough to travel home to NY a few times a year – I am no stranger to airports.  I have run from one end of Chicago O’Hare to the other (only slowing to enjoy the underground laser light show) more times than I care to recount.  I have been re-directed, put up in hotels, paid-off for my seat and had my bags lost while in Europe for just a week. Earlier this year a flight to Amsterdam with a stop-over in Chicago resulted in additional stop-overs in Philadelphia and Manchester, England – a 24-hour flight adventure.  The combination of crabby travelers, relentless and often mind-boggling security procedures, utterly confused seniors and over-energized kids, all crammed into a prison-like mall makes the airport an unlikely place to look forward to.  That is, unless, you happen to be in Portland, Oregon.

I Look Forward To Going To PDX Airport

Whereas the requirement to arrive an hour or two early for the airport is one of those frustrating rush-and-wait situations, I actually give myself more than enough time to hit up PDX.  My flight this evening leaves at 10pm – but I actually got here at 7:30.  Why not?  I’m sitting at the Rogue, having a delicious beer and enjoying one of their mouth-watering bacon-swiss burgers.  The ‘Brutal Bitter’ is a spectacular pre-flight pint and absolutely crushes the typical 20-ounce of corporate swill with optional side-shot served at most over-priced “bars” in airports around the US.

Getting to PDX couldn’t be easier.  I basically walked four blocks from our studio over to the MAX line and took the red line all the way out here.  $2… sit down… 35 minutes later I’m at the airport.

And how and I’m writing this blog post?  Am I spending $9.95 for 2 hours of internet access?  NOPE…  FREE WIFI at PDX Airport!  I’m assuming they are aware they could charge for this – that they could join all the other airports in this country in sucking you dry of every last penny by forcing you to provide your credit card to some unknown entity.  My guess is that someone in the organization must have said, “Yah – but that would be a really shitty thing to do.”  And so PDX provides you internet at THEIR cost.  This allows me to get work (ie blog posts) completed while I await my plane – and another reason why getting to PDX early makes sense.

Best Non-PDX Airport Bar

I think of all the bars I’ve waited for planes in, my absolute favorite would be a little Irish bar called Murphy’s Irish Pub located just beside gate D10 in Amsterdam Airport (Schiphol).  I discovered it the first time when returning to the States after my 2-month stay in Barcelona. I returned for another cold pint in May when visiting Dublin and the bartender actually remembered me – now that’s a solid bar!  You literally feel like you’ve not only left the airport, but also Holland when you walk into this classic pub.  A good selection of Irish brews and always an interesting person to strike up a conversation with at the bar.

Worst Airport Artwork:

SERIOUSLY?  George Bush Sr. in bronze, looking like Clark Kent trying to find a phone booth.  The first time I saw this ridiculous statue at Houston Airport, I thought perhaps our former joke of a President had been frozen in carbonate like some sort of cold-hearted Republican Han Solo.  Of course Houston is Bush country – and this ain’t no joke.  Bush is the real deal and all man (regardless of what his casually curving legs might suggest).  I stopped to take a photo of this amazing work – and then realized folks looking at me taking this photo probably couldn’t discern that I was finding this work ridiculous, rather than trying to capture a great moment in my life.

Most Bizarre Way To Get Around An Airport

By far the oddest way to get around an airport occurs in Dulles Airport in Washington DC.  They call them the “Mobile Lounge Transports” – but I call them the really weird rooms that slowly roll across the parking lot.  First off – a lounge should have drinks – or at the very least good lighting. This is not a lounge.  This is like a large elevator that goes sideways.  A hallway would have probably worked better – but the rocket scientists at Dulles decided to create these outrageously large and completely bizarre contraptions to carry folks around their horribly laid-out airport. If you’re going to waste my time getting from A to B in an airport – it better be a monorail!  This is no monorail.

1. Walking/Biking Into Work

When I was kid we lived out in the country, about a 20 minute drive from school.  So when the day would end, I’d have to run to catch a bus while my local friends would socialize out front and slowly meander back to their homes.  As silly as it seems, I dreamed of an adult life where I would bike to work and would never have to commute back and forth again.  However, back east that didn’t seem like an option. My father had a 45 minute commute to work each day and I know folks who live in Connecticut who drive almost two hours to work in NYC and back. The first time I rode down beneath the Burnside Bridge, along the stretch of floating walkway on the Willamette on my 10 minute ride to work, I knew I had found my place.

I sold my car more than a year ago and have never looked back.  Most days I walk to work because I enjoy the 20 minutes of quiet contemplation prior to starting my workday.  I take a slightly different route each day, decided typically on impulse and hardly a day passes that I don’t come across something unique on my way in.  Whereas sitting in my car blaring the stereo, or cramped on the morning bus with my iPod pumping, separated me from the city on my way into work – I am always very present on my walk, noticing new shops, bumping into colleagues and friends, or even just exchanging a pleasant glance with a passer-by.  It’s typically the highlight of my day.

2. My Awesome Studio/Building/Area

I’ve worked in a variety of places around Portland and beyond.  From incubators to cubicles – windowless rooms to coffee-shops, I’ve probably tried them all.  But I’ve never felt more at home and productive then at 431 NW Flanders.

First off, the Old Town/Chinatown neighborhood (which I like to refer to as The Interactive District) is alive with all sorts of energy.  The combination of art galleries, boutiques, restaurants, architecture firms, web development studios and the Chinese Gardens makes this a creative’s dream.  Anytime I’m at a loss for inspiration, a quick walk around the neighborhood is always enough to get me back on track. I’ve also had the great honor to work with Central City Concern the past two years – and so every day I can see the progress they are making on the great challenges facing our community.  I pass by the amazing residences they’ve cleaned up and improved, and run into people who have made it through their programs and I’m inspired by the potential for change - both within humans and a city.

As for the building itself – could you ask for anything better?  High ceilings, great views of downtown, all sorts of insanely talented folks (and their crazy dogs) working together in one place.  I started out working in the corner of the basement when the first floor was occupied by Livengood/Nowack.  I now share a suite on the 2nd floor with my partner in crime, Pail Design.

Plus our landlord Steve Bloch is about as great as they get – not to mention a spectacular photographer.  All in all – the perfect spot to work.

3. The Carts

SERIOUSLY… how awesome are the carts?  An endless variety of cheap, delicious eats all located in a few central spots.  A stroll along the promenade takes you from India to Mexico, from Thailand to Philly – and a few places I didn’t even know existed. Go there with a group and everyone gets what they want – and can meet back up to share in the delights.

I have NEVER gone to the carts and not run into someone I know – it’s the grand dining hall of downtown Portland whether rain or shine (although of course we all prefer it in the sun).  While Portland certainly has no shortage of great restaurants – when it comes to lunchtime – nothing beats the carts. I considered listing my personal favorites – but I honestly don’t have one.  It’s the pure variety that makes this spot so special. While my passion for cheese steaks and Pad Thai typically dominate my lunch choices when not at the carts – something about this spot always pushes me to try something new.  Rarely am I disappointed.

4. A Creative and Cooperative Culture

I’m not a competitive person. Sure I want to do well, but not at the expense of others. I’d rather work in conjunction with others, using all our best talents and ideas together.  No other place I’ve been shares that passion more than Portland, Oregon.

In any other city, other web development studios like Metal Toad Media, eROI, Rose Coloured Glasses or Enact Development might be seen as “the competition“.  In PDX they are collaborators, partners, resources and inspiration.  I can send my clients to them when the work requires it – and vice versa.  I’m excited to see the work they produce and eager to assist or utilize their talents when the opportunity arises.

This culture of shared success is nurtured and reinforced by an almost endless collection of networking events, meet-ups, Tweet-ups, creative conferences and social gatherings (see #5).  Because Portland is smaller than most major cities, it didn’t take long to recognize faces and create meaningful partnerships with other talented creatives.  Folks who offer the same services as you are quick to introduce you to those they know and connecting the dots between talent and business is almost a past-time of sorts.

Never has this been truer than in the past year, as a rough economy has forced some to close their doors and other to create new doors to open.  I’ve been amazed to see where folks have ended up – the new partnerships that have formed – and the general spirit of community within the creative culture of Portland.  Challenges become opportunities in an instant: new ideas form – creative events emerge – and a community that works together only grows stronger through adversity.

5. Proximity to Great Bars For Happy Hour

When the work-day is done, it’s time for a cold beer.  Originally from NY, the choices afforded me there were the corporate suds of Bud, Miller, Coors or worse, the light versions of all three.  In Portland that is most certainly not the case.  Within a mile of my studio are more bars, microbreweries, wine bistros, cocktail lounges, saloons, taprooms and taverns then I could ever possibly list, let alone visit.

Portland has a distinct happy hour culture.  Walk the streets from 4pm on and you’ll see bars bustling with activity.  Cheap eats, delicious IPAs and eclectic atmospheres hell-bent on keeping Portland weird and beer’d put you in the unique position of not deciding whether to have a pint, but rather, which locale to drink it in. In the summer we search out patios, in the winter we escape from the rain in a comfy booth. We sit at long tables where conversations with strangers inevitably ensue over mouth-watering cocktails.  Whether it’s networking at dMob or $5 Aviation cocktails at Recession Proof Mixology events – the bars are where it’s happening in PDX and the perfect place to end your work day.