Back before hiking apps, my own sense of where a trail would lead me was in written description and maybe an old black and white photograph. I could only guess where I would end up, or what it would be like along the way. I went on the trail to experience the trail, not necessarily where the trail would lead. Although I always appreciated a sweeping vista or magical waterfall at some point.
Now I see photographs from crowd-sourcing apps before heading out and have detailed maps that track my every move and let me know if I’m off course. But there is no app for life’s many trails and paths. You just go along and if things get murky and difficult or the path becomes unclear, you just have to muddle through and keep on going. There’s no turning around on life’s trails.
After the past year and a half, with it’s mud, snow and ice (literally and figurative), I certainly didn’t expect life’s path to finally come across the trail that led to Portland. I had first heard the call of the Pacific Northwest in the early 1990’s. From the stories I had heard and the few visuals I could find, it was a place of untouched beauty, and Portland was a place of eccentric people who came to live there to be stewards of such beauty. I had heard of many a sci-fi and fantasy writer who made their home here, to listen to the wind and scribe the stories told upon the summer breeze.
So when I got the call for a little movie (with a general plot of the perfect covid-compliant film I had been asking for since 2020) to go to Portland, Oregon, I couldn’t say No. I had finally come to the Oregon Trail (so to speak… and hopefully I wouldn’t die of dysentery before arrival).
But it appeared while I was ready to go to Portland, Portland wasn’t quite ready for Tucker and me. Searching for lodging for a couple of weeks was turning up nothing for the timeframe we needed. I changed the timeframe, hoping to get something maybe not so long or started later, and still nothing.
Three days before departure, I found an Airbnb that would at least get us till the next Saturday after arrival. I had hoped while in town, it would be easier to find a place.
Out Airbnb was a cute area of town. Much like San Francisco, Portland has various neighborhoods, each with its own personality. In the Sellwood district, dogs rode bikes and wore capes.
So when I got the call for a little movie (with a general plot of the perfect covid-compliant film I had been asking for since 2020) to go to Portland, Oregon, I couldn’t say No. I had finally come to the Oregon Trail (so to speak… and hopefully I wouldn’t die of dysentery before arrival).
But it appeared while I was ready to go to Portland, Portland wasn’t quite ready for Tucker and me. Searching for lodging for a couple of weeks was turning up nothing for the timeframe we needed. I changed the timeframe, hoping to get something maybe not so long or started later, and still nothing.
Three days before departure, I found an Airbnb that would at least get us till the next Saturday after arrival. I had hoped while in town, it would be easier to find a place.
Out Airbnb was a cute area of town. Much like San Francisco, Portland has various neighborhoods, each with its own personality. In the Sellwood district, dogs rode bikes and wore capes.
And people didn’t just lend out books here, but also rocks. With the right stone at the right time, anything is possible.
I probably should have borrowed a rock for some needed support on our quest for home. Because four days in, the possibilities were still nil. But I had to trust in the universe. The production office was also having trouble finding itself. I didn’t even have a location to dump my belongings or work equipment. I was circling the town without a landing place or even a place to parachute into.
The day before the end of our Airbnb, I contacted two more places. And Saturday morning, while taking Tucker for his morning walk before packing up the Airbnb, I received two calls back.
The first place was definitely in “the city”. The graffiti on the storefronts, the bars on the windows, and trash on the streets… I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t feel safe walking Tucker more than a block away. It was a cute house, but it wasn’t for us. So onto the next one.
The moment I rolled up to it, my heart leapt from my chest to embrace it. It had a Portland address, but was a little on the outskirts. The neighborhood was warm and welcoming, and the trees on the property made the house a home.
The owner showed me around the house, and the only thought in my head was, “I need to live here. This is our place.” The rent was the right price, but moreover, the place was the right place. I told him how much I loved all the trees, and he said he and wife bought this house precisely because of the trees. The wide windows and sliding glass doors, the deck, the firepit, the vegetable gardens, the fenced yard… it was my Portland home. But he had other people interested in renting it--and for a longer term.
Without a moment's hesitation, I told him I’d give him a three month lease (even though at this point, I’d probably only need it for two). I wanted to stay to vacation here, so I put that card on the table. He said he’d get back to me.
So Tucker and I, now homeless (just another Portland experience), headed west for the weekend. If I had to pay for a hotel room, it might as well be some on oceanfront property, and we could do some exploring.
The day before the end of our Airbnb, I contacted two more places. And Saturday morning, while taking Tucker for his morning walk before packing up the Airbnb, I received two calls back.
The first place was definitely in “the city”. The graffiti on the storefronts, the bars on the windows, and trash on the streets… I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t feel safe walking Tucker more than a block away. It was a cute house, but it wasn’t for us. So onto the next one.
The moment I rolled up to it, my heart leapt from my chest to embrace it. It had a Portland address, but was a little on the outskirts. The neighborhood was warm and welcoming, and the trees on the property made the house a home.
The owner showed me around the house, and the only thought in my head was, “I need to live here. This is our place.” The rent was the right price, but moreover, the place was the right place. I told him how much I loved all the trees, and he said he and wife bought this house precisely because of the trees. The wide windows and sliding glass doors, the deck, the firepit, the vegetable gardens, the fenced yard… it was my Portland home. But he had other people interested in renting it--and for a longer term.
Without a moment's hesitation, I told him I’d give him a three month lease (even though at this point, I’d probably only need it for two). I wanted to stay to vacation here, so I put that card on the table. He said he’d get back to me.
So Tucker and I, now homeless (just another Portland experience), headed west for the weekend. If I had to pay for a hotel room, it might as well be some on oceanfront property, and we could do some exploring.
We were half way there when the owner called: he and his wife discussed it, and I seemed to be a good fit. I was elated. Tuck and I had a home! And it was THE home. But we couldn’t get in for four more days. Every cleaner in town was booked till then.
So be it. With our Portland long term home ready, Tuck and I went to greet the ocean.
So be it. With our Portland long term home ready, Tuck and I went to greet the ocean.
Unfortunately, with our late start due to checking out housing, we missed low tide so our beach adventure was cut a little short.
But all was well. We could get a good night’s rest, look for some short term lodging, get up early, and do a long hike in the morning before heading back to town to sign the lease.
However, even the coast wasn’t ready for us. After an hour in the truck calling various hotels, I finally found one half an hour away. It was a hundred dollars more than I wanted to spend. I asked the woman if it was an incredible place with a beautiful view and she said, “I’d like to say that, but I’m not going to lie. It’s just a hotel room overlooking the parking lot.
I had to take what I was given. Trails don’t come to an end; they keep going as long as you put one foot in front of the other. It may not be the prettiest footfall, but if the earth is stable, it'll hold you.
While the price wasn’t ideal, it was a clean, safe place to stay. And Tucker got a gift bag, so he wasn't complaining.
But all was well. We could get a good night’s rest, look for some short term lodging, get up early, and do a long hike in the morning before heading back to town to sign the lease.
However, even the coast wasn’t ready for us. After an hour in the truck calling various hotels, I finally found one half an hour away. It was a hundred dollars more than I wanted to spend. I asked the woman if it was an incredible place with a beautiful view and she said, “I’d like to say that, but I’m not going to lie. It’s just a hotel room overlooking the parking lot.
I had to take what I was given. Trails don’t come to an end; they keep going as long as you put one foot in front of the other. It may not be the prettiest footfall, but if the earth is stable, it'll hold you.
While the price wasn’t ideal, it was a clean, safe place to stay. And Tucker got a gift bag, so he wasn't complaining.
There was a pizza place right next door, so I could easily get food (they even brought it outside since I couldn’t go inside with Tucker), and best of all, despite us having a view of the parking lot from our room, the ocean and sunset were just a block away.
Our first week had been a bit tumultuous, but like every trail, if you just keep going, eventually the terrain and the view will change. So we kept going. Now that we had a homebase locked in and a short term airbnb lined up to carry us through a few more nights, we could get to some real exploring. The Oregon Trail may end in Oregon, but it's only so a vast more array of trails can begin.
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