Discovering Portland
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| The Stone House in Portland a.k.a. The Witch's Castle is located about a mile up the lower Macleay trail |
“What are the chances that I’ll see a Sasquatch today?” I said.
“Come again?” He was cupping his ear as I repeated my question. He laughed. My Uber driver was Eric and according to his profile online he was hard of hearing and friendly. Okay.
“Over here on the right is the historic Montgomery Ward building,” he offered as we drove by. “At one time it was the largest building in Portland.”
I found out after a little research that the massive warehouse was built in 1919. Montgomery Ward at the time was expanding its operations in the West and hoped to open up new markets in Alaska, Hawaii, and the Pacific Rim. It was almost 900,000 square feet much of which was dedicated to filling mail orders. Three rail spurs served the facility extending into the ground floor moving goods in and out. I thought about the prevalence of the thick catalogs adorning the outhouses and bathrooms of my childhood in Alaska.
My friend Arthur told me a story this summer about an old-timer Talkeetnan that had passed away recently. “Johnny Baker bought the first snowmobile in Talkeetna,” he said. I was all ears. “He ordered it from Montgomery Ward and it came up on the train along with several cans of gas.” The Talkeetna Spur road didn’t exist yet and the only hardpack around was Mainstreet. As the story goes, he uncrated his shiny new snowmobile, poured some gas in the tank and fired it up. He scooted down Main Street swifty, smiling ear-to-ear but when he continued-on to where the packed road ended and the untouched snow began his luck came to an abrupt halt. He immediately got stuck in the deep snow burying the thing up to the cowling. It wasn’t long after that that he traded it for a Jon boat owned by the owner of the Fairview bar.
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| This is an example of an early 60's Ward's snowmachine. It's been a few years since this sweet ride was sitting in a crate at Montgomery Wards in Portland. |
The Catalogs of Montgomery Ward were the source of many Alaskans hopes and dreams and there is no doubt that they played a major role in connecting Alaska to a modernized America.
Eric delivered me to the Lower Macleay trailhead and it was 7:00 A.M. I bid him farewell as I shut the door of his blue Honda Camry. I took a moment to stretch my calves, look around and then ran off down the trail with a hop in my step and enough caffeine pulsing in my veins to wake a small army.
As I ran down the trail I quickly became overwhelmed by my surroundings and then it hit me. I felt as if I was running on the forested moon of Endor (you know Return of the Jedi, Ewoks, ect.) and it was glorious! Who knew the Ewoks maintained such incredible trails? Well placed bridges, railings, and wooden walkways punctuated the trail as I moved along.
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| Speederbikes and other motorized vehicles are not allowed on the lower MaCleay trail |
My Star Wars imagination was exacerbated when I passed a huge tree that had fallen across the trail. It was no problem because a trail crew had already been through with a massive chain saw and the trail continued uninterrupted. The two rounded tree butts displayed their rings as I passed between them. I couldn’t help but think of the infamous Ewok log trap as I passed between the log ends, each of which was over five feet in diameter. Finally, I made my way up several switchbacks taking me out of the ravine, across a road and finally up to the famed Pittock Mansion.
Henry Lewis Pittock might have been the first to summit Mount Hood, the tallest mountain in Oregon. His boss at the Oregonian newspaper at the time claimed to have done it first but the account of his details were sketchy. I’m siding with Henry and his four buddies who apparently had fun throwing rocks off the summit over a 3,000 foot cliff. Before they descended they bellowed out nine exuberant cheers (Hip Hip, Hurray! )
Henry Pittock, aside from his potentially prodigious mountaineering feat, made quite a name for himself in the Portland area as a businessman, family man and community advocate. His life's work with the Oregonian gained him fame, fortune and social status. Henry and his Wife, Giorgianna, had five children and had the mansion built by local artisans on a high spot overlooking the city. As lore would have it, the day before he died, having been stricken by influenza had himself carried to one of the east facing windows of the mansion so he could gaze once more upon the vista of Portland of which he had influenced so greatly.
I took my time to admire the garden and the stonework of the mansion. A paved walkway passed under an arch between living quarters and the main house leading to the same view Pittock must have gazed upon in his dying hours. Near the garden was a water fountain. I made my way over to the fountain and gratefully drank from it as I thought about the life and times of Henry Pittock.
Before long I was back on the trail passing back down the lovely path that was bespeckled with giant yellow leaves falling from tall trees. The Endor sentiment was still strong with me and for a moment I was sure that I heard a Wookie call in the far distance. I quickly realized how ridiculous that was; It couldn’t be a Wookie, this is the Northwest, It was probably just a sasquatch.
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