Portland, Oregon

On my first visit to Portland in 2014, as we drove along César E. Chávez Blvd en route from PDX airport to the Sunnyside Neighborhood where my friends Rebecca and John live, even jetlagged I could hardly have missed the facade of the medical marijuana dispensary, with its bright hand-painted lettering in many shades of green.

Digressing, I should mention César Chávez was a Mexican American farm worker who became a popular civil rights activist and raised the plight of farm workers to a national cause. The street we were driving along was once called 39th Avenue. Its renaming in 2009 was controversial, because Chavez lacked links to the Portland area.

Back to marijuana dispensaries. In the UK, we’re not used to seeing them at all, medical or otherwise. Coffee shops in Amsterdam are different, catering mostly to international tourists. Amsterdam’s residents barely tolerate them. By contrast, a purchaser in the US of medical marijuana was likely a local resident, as a doctor’s prescription was required. This could be obtained easily enough, but the requirement limited custom to serious users. Nobody I met in Portland admitted to having visited a medical marijuana dispensary.

A medical marijuana dispensary

By my next visit in 2016, cannabis had been legalised in Oregon after a ballot in 2014. New dispensaries were opening, but the expanding market was still in its infancy. However, today the market seems well established and legal cannabis an accepted part of the lives of many Portlanders. This brave new approach doesn’t seem to have been accompanied by education or information. I hear anecdotally about preferred dispensaries and new habits.

If the approach of Oregon and a growing number of other States to the regulation of cannabis seems wildly experimental to the UK visitor, alcohol has a status that still owes much to  prohibition and temperance. To drink at lunchtime is to distinguish oneself as probably having a drinking problem. Spirits can be purchased only from a liquor store. Entering one, I feel a bit louche. The products on display include a wide selection of small batch gins distilled in Oregon. According to one review, Portland’s own Aria Bull Run is an exceptional, classic dry gin, complex but direct, with a blend of juniper, cilantro, cardamom and citrus zest.

In 2014, on our walks around her neighbourhood and beyond, Rebecca introduced me to unique features of life in Portland. Three that lodged in my memory were tall bikes, utilikilts and kombucha.

A tall bike is an unusually tall bicycle, often constructed by a hobbyist from spare parts. It suffers drawbacks, including when a cyclist is mounting, dismounting, balancing, stopping and cycling up or down hills. Tall bikes are particularly unsuited to Portland, which is a city of hills, although flatter neighbourhoods can be found. Rebecca tells me she now seldom sees tall bikes.

A tall bike in action

A collection of tall bikes near food carts.

A utilikilt is a kilt with pockets for tools. They can come in any colour scheme, but I believe camouflage and khaki predominate. Among other things, a utilikilt offers freedom of movement for a man working on his motorcycle. I haven’t seen one in a while.

Home-brewed Kombucha is still a thing. It’s a fermented drink with a distinctive sour taste and alleged health benefits, made from sweetened tea and a symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeasts. It can be found at many food and coffee outlets, but I’ve yet to meet anyone who’s drunk it more than once.

In February 2019 in the Lair Hill neighborhood where Lynn lives (Rebecca introduced us), the spirit of weird Portland manifests itself in a man passing by. He reminds me of John Frusciante, former guitarist with the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I used to liken Frusciante to Jesus, because of his long flowing hair and expressions of pained rapture. Scars on his arms attested to his struggles with heroin. However, this man passing by is bursting with good health. Clad neck to toe in skin-tight black jogging gear, muscles rippling, he disappears rapidly up the sidewalk with a long gait, his dark locks trailing behind.

My visits to Portland are filled with missteps. I hesitate absentmindedly near an intersection, one foot in the street, and a car stops to let me cross. In Oregon, unlike other states, all intersections, whether marked or not, are legal crosswalks and pedestrians have right of way. This curious power one possesses as a pedestrian is also a burden. On another occasion, I dart out into the street spotting a gap behind an approaching car, but the car comes to a rapid halt so I can cross in front of it. I wonder if this might be a gentle admonition of my irresponsible behaviour.

In a cramped aisle in Powell’s Books, I spot a human sized gap behind a customer browsing the shelves. As I shimmy by, neither touching him nor thinking twice about our momentary proximity, he says “Excuse me” in a forthright, matter-of-fact way, not moving and without a hint of apology. I wonder what he means, as this isn’t how one uses that expression in the UK. Was he telling me politely that my sense of personal space is uncomfortably smaller than his? I decline to explain I’m a product of time spent commuting on the London Underground.

Powell’s Books may be reason enough to visit Portland. There are several branches, the main one being in the Pearl District, just northwest of downtown, in what was once an industrial area with warehouses and railroad yards. Try to imagine your dream bookstore. Let your imagination go wild. According to its website, Powell’s main branch in the Pearl is the largest used and new bookstore in the world, occupying an entire city block and housing approximately one million books. It has nine color-coded rooms and over 3,500 different sections, including a wide selection of out-of-print and hard-to-find titles.

Powell’s hosts readings and talks by acclaimed writers, artists and thinkers. These can be well attended. Rebecca and Lynn go regularly. Rebecca took me to a reading by Ben Parzybok of his book “Sherwood Nation: a novel”, published in September 2014. It’s set in a drought-stricken Portland, where a Robin Hood-esque water thief is caught on camera redistributing an illegal truckload of water to those in need.

Ben Parzybok signing a copy of “Sherwood Nation: a novel” in Powell's Books

Back to my missteps. On a visit to the smaller but nevertheless impressive branch of Powell’s Books on Hawthorne in the Sunnyside Neighborhood, I queue behind a customer paying for her books, only to be informed loudly by the cashier that the line starts at the sign. I look around. Sure enough, there is a sign about three yards away. I would never have guessed. Luckily nobody else is there and, by the time I reach it, it’s my turn to be served.

Telling it like it is, Portland style

Waiting to watch Sharon Van Etten play at McMenamins Crystal Ballroom, Lynn and I spy a perfect spot upstairs with a view of the stage. The couple thereby relegated to the second row commences a vocal campaign to make us move. I try to explain the hurly burly world of live music. “Have you been to a concert before?” I ask, remembering scenes where the crush lifted me clean off my feet. The exchange ends with Lynn being called a female body part.

Waiting for SVE at McMenamins Crystal Ballroom

Digressing again, I should confess my enthusiasm for SVE’s music led to my following Heather Woods Broderick on Instagram. HWB provides keyboards and intimately sinuous backing vocals for SVE, but also makes her own music. Her Instagram has pictures of Oregon’s distinctive and gorgeous coastline, suggesting she’s a resident. I also follow Remi Aguilella, the drummer for Daughter (I follow about 60 people on Instagram, and mostly they aren’t musicians). At some point, pictures of Portland began to appear in Remi’s Instagram feed, suggesting he too has moved here. The area is rich with musicians and musical connections. Without trying to be comprehensive, I’ll mention The Dandy Warhols, Courtney Love, k.d. lang, Beth Ditto, Scout Niblett, Laura Gibson and Haley Heynderickx.

Haystack Rock on the Oregon coast

Cannon Beach, looking south to Haystack Rock. The coast is often cold in the summer, but that can be a relief from the heat inland

A warm fire on a chilly summer evening on Cannon Beach, with a typical fog bank offshore

In the United States, most people speak English, but not as I know it. A queue is a “line”. Coriander is “cilantro” and rocket is “arugula” . At the end of a meal, you ask for the “check”. In a self service restaurant or coffee shop, you “bus” your dirty crockery by taking it to a station with large plastic tubs (don’t forget to do this). When ordering coffee, you specify the size in “ounces”.

Ah, the coffee. Portland is blessed with independent and small chain coffee shops. Tipping generously is expected. In return, your barista may serve you the best coffee you’ve had. Oh, and the food. There are restaurants of every description, except UK Indian. A favourite with Rebecca and John is ¿Por Qué No? Taqueria, abbreviated to PQN. The margaritas are out of this world. Life of Pie is the favourite pizza restaurant of a friend of Lynn’s.  At happy hour (11am to 6pm) you can have margherita pizza for $5 and draft beer or house wine for $4, and it’s all delicious.

Waiting in the line outside PQN, which usually moves fast

Supermarkets like Trader Joes and New Seasons have a fresh fruit and vegetable section unlike anything I’ve seen in the UK. Pick any category, tomatoes for example, and you will be presented with a bewildering choice. Almost everything can be found in organic form. In the bulk produce section, there are rows of self service tubs of pulses, grains, nuts, dried fruit, trail mix, granola, muesli, you name it. Just remember to mark each bag with the correct number of the tub from which you filled it. However, good cheese is harder to find.

At the checkout, supermarkets provide free brown paper bags with handles. It’s considered socially acceptable to use these, unlike in the UK where, if I forget my carry bags, I pay penance by transporting my shopping unbagged and feeling conspicuous. Often, two or more brown paper bags are used per load. At home, they can be deployed as recyclable garbage bags.

Did I mention my belief that I’m OK in crowded spaces? On 21 January 2017, the day after the inauguration of Donald Trump, this notion was put to the test, when Lynn and I decided to rendezvous with Rebecca and John for the Women's March on Portland, one of a series of Women’s Marches in cities around the United States.

Lots of these placards on the Women's March. Today you may see them in people's gardens

Rebecca and John, approaching from the east, got stuck in the crowd on Morrison Bridge crossing the Willamette, the river which runs north-south through the centre of Portland. Meanwhile, Lynn and I took refuge from the winter rain beneath the same bridge on the western bank of the Willamette, unable to make further progress.

Portland’s status as one of the most progressive cities in the United States belies two of its other features. It’s one of the whitest cities in the United States (according to the 2010 census, the Black or African American population is 6.3%) and, like many US cities, it has a big homeless population.

Sad fish and Bernie badge after the 2016 election

For someone visiting from the UK, the size of Portland’s homeless population is shocking. The UK has a problem too, but its local authorities have a duty to house people. By contrast, in the US it’s obvious there’s no safety net. The problem may require a federal solution, as any one city or state can do only so much if it doesn’t want to assume the whole country’s burden. Portland is one of a number of progressive west coast cities with a large homeless population.

For years the city has been growing rapidly. Home building has proceeded apace and property prices have increased. On my first visit, Rebecca takes me to North Mississippi Avenue in the Boise neighborhood in the North East of the city. In 2000, its population was half black. By 2010, development and gentrification had reduced this to about a quarter black. Rebecca and I wander into Paxton Gate, a boutique shop on North Mississippi specializing in taxidermy, fossils, framed insects, science kits, jewelry and plants.

Only in Paxton Gate

Another Paxton Gate exhibit

In a salt shop, you can find every type you could think of and many you couldn't

You need one of these, right?

Further south and on the other side of the Willamette, Lynn’s Lair Hill neighborhood hugs the lower slopes of the West Hills, part of the Tualatin Mountains, a basalt range which runs alongside and to the west of the Willamette and dominates the western side of Portland. All around, development has been proceeding apace, although Lair Hill itself remains a mostly forgotten enclave surrounded by large confusing road systems.

Nature taking over in Lair Hill

Below Lynn’s house, the South Waterfront on the bank of the Willamette is dominated by brand new blocks of multistorey apartments. A short walk north from the South Waterfront is the Tilikum Crossing, a suspension bridge across the Willamette that opened in 2015. It carries light rail passenger trains, city buses, the Portland Streetcar, bicycles, pedestrians and emergency vehicles. Private cars and trucks are not permitted.

From the South Waterfront, you can catch the Portland Aerial Tram, a cable car, to Oregon Health & Science University (OHSU), situated high above in the Marquam Hill neighborhood. OHSU provides Portland with its main hospital.

The West Hills, in addition to being home to OHSU, affluent neighbourhoods, the famous Rose Garden (hence, Portland’s nickname as the “City of Roses”), Oregon Zoo and other attractions, also contain hundreds of miles of trails through verdant evergreen and mixed evergreen-deciduous forests.

Portland, City of Roses

The Marquam Trail, which you can pick up from the Markham Nature Park surrounding OHSU, takes you to Council Crest (1,071 feet / 326 m) atop the West Hills, one of a number of viewing points from which on a clear day you can see more distant, snow-capped mountain peaks: Mount Hood, a 11,249 ft (3,429 m) high potentially active volcano in Oregon, Mount St. Helens, an active volcano in Washington State, famous for having blown its top in 1980 killing 57 people, the more distant Mount Rainier, a 14,411 ft (4,392 m) high active volcano in Washington State that dominates the Seattle skyline, and Mount Adams a 12,281 ft (3,743 m) high potentially active volcano not far from Mount Rainier.

View from outside Pittock Mansion in the West Hills

Mount Hood, with a telephoto lens from the West Hills 

While Lynn has easy access to the West Hills, Rebecca and John can walk to Mount Tabor, a 636 feet (194 m) high dormant or extinct volcanic cinder cone on the eastern side of Portland, covered with majestic Douglas firs. Mount Tabor also houses a number of water reservoirs. In 2011, a man was observed urinating into one, prompting city officials to drain the water at a cost of around $36,000.

One of Mount Tabor's reservoirs

At Portland’s northern edge, the Willamette River joins the larger Columbia River, which rises in the Rocky Mountains of British Columbia and enters Portland from the east through the Columbia Gorge. The Columbia serves as the state line between Oregon to the south and Washington State to the north. At Portland, the Columbia takes a turn northwards and eventually reaches the Pacific Ocean near the town of Astoria, about a 2 hour drive away and famous for being the setting of The Goonies. A channel has been dredged in the river between Astoria and Portland to allow large container and grain ships to reach Portland and Vancouver, the latter being a town opposite Portland on the river’s Washington State bank.

Hill rolling in Astoria, where the mighty Columbia reaches the Pacific 

A ship navigating up the Columbia towards Portland and Vancouver

Ships moored near Kelley Point Park, close to where the Willamette flows into the Columbia 

Much of the Oregonian countryside surrounding Portland is beautiful: pristine mountain rivers, endless evergreen forests, verdant gorges, crystal clear lakes. You may also see MAGA caps and 4x4s. Oregon owes its liberal reputation to its biggest cities, Portland and Eugene. The rest of the state probably voted for Donald Trump.

The Columbia Gorge

Forest at Lost Lake

View of Mount Hood from Lost Lake

On two of my summer visits to Portland, I’ve been accompanied by my now almost teen children. The stifling July/August heat is mitigated by an abundance of swimming opportunities. These include wild swimming in nearby rivers and lakes, but special mention should be made of the city’s many fountains. A day touring and swimming in the fountains was an unexpected highlight. It’s fine for adults to flop in as well.

Swimming in the Willamette

Salmon Street Springs

Keller Fountain Park 

Lovejoy Fountain Park

More swimming can be found at Wings & Waves Waterpark in McMinnville, about an hour’s drive south west, but for my son the more important attraction there is the Evergreen Aviation & Space Museum, which houses the Hughes H-4 Hercules “Spruce Goose” prototype built by Howard Hughes. With eight engines, it’s the largest flying boat built and has the largest wingspan of any aircraft flown. On its sole flight, it was airborne for 26 seconds, enough for Hughes to prove it could fly. A guided tour of the aircraft is worthwhile, both for the opportunity to sit at the controls and the interesting insights provided by the guides. While the Spruce Goose dominates, the Museum has other attractions, including a Titan II missile and an SR-71 Blackbird. Meanwhile, a Boeing 747 sits atop the Wings & Waves Waterpark, a cutaway section of its fuselage serving as the starting point of some of its waterslides.

Pilot's seat on the Spruce Goose

Another hit is the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry (OMSI). Hundreds of interactive exhibits mean hours of fun for the children. Nearby is the USS Blueback, a diesel electric submarine decommissioned in 1990. OMSI offers guided tours of the submarine several times a day.

USS Blueback, moored in the Willamette next to OMSI

At the Tom McCall Waterfront Park on the western bank of the Willamette near Hawthorne Bridge, a rental outlet offers a wide selection of bikes for hire, including choppers, quads, tandems and four seater “Double Surreys”. We took a Double Surrey on a pleasant and sedate 3 mile loop, heading north along the western bank of the Willamette, passing beneath the Morrison Bridge and Burnside Bridge, crossing the river via the Steel Bridge, turning south along the river’s eastern bank and returning across the Hawthorne Bridge.

St. Johns Bridge, one of many crossing the Willamette

The famous Steel Bridge

While Portland’s natural landscape is dominated by its volcanic past, its residents live in the shadow of its seismic future. On average, a major earthquake occurs every 243 years. The last one was in 1700. When the next one strikes, the Juan de Fuca tectonic plate, which stretches from British Columbia to California, will slide beneath the North American plate and the Northwest coastline will sink by up to 6.6 feet. The effects will be devastating. Newer buildings should survive, but an estimated 78% of Portland’s family homes were built before the first seismic code in 1974. They probably aren’t bolted to their foundations and many will become uninhabitable after a significant earthquake. It’s the price one must pay to live in one of the United States’ most progressive cities.

A typical Portland house. This one is in the Boise neighbourhood