Council Crest and the Sidewalk on Stilts

A radio tower stands guard over the summit
of Council Crest. This tower is visible from the
valley floor making the hill easy to locate from
most anywhere in Portland.

Best Laid Plans

When I revived the Kramer Paper online, I decided to call it an “adventure blog” instead of a travel blog. I realize that adventure blogs tend to bring images of steep cliffs, and backpacking. I have a few of those, but I mean adventure in a different way. I can’t speak for everyone else out there, but when I spend a day off travelling to a favorite part of town, I often set out to do one thing quite deliberately, and then either do something else entirely, or pile on side trips with unrelated destinations that I did not expect to see. Travels are generally better planned than most of my weekly side-trips. And in a city as diverse as Portland, this isn’t different. Ancient neighborhoods, pathways, and relics from the nineteenth century hide beneath the canopy of its urban forest. Among the many hidden treasures of Portland, are the parks and neighborhoods of the West Hills.

Portland's Highest Peak

The circular stone gathering area at the summit. The center serves
as an echo chamber, and the walls give the locations of major cascade
peaks. 

Most people in Portland have heard of Council Crest Park, and many more have been there. They have seen the echo chamber made of a circular stone enclosure, gazed at the city spread out beneath them, and of course seen the five volcanic peaks visible from this point. But this is only half the park. The commonly seen grassy knoll on top is the summit of the peak, but beneath this, the park continues, the hillsides dropping off into forests of indigenous plants, and neighborhoods dating back easily to the twenties.

There are several ways to explore these side trails, but I tend to prefer the more sneaky routes, those less travelled: walk past the three-tone-green water tower, and around the circle of street to the three-legged radio tower, and take the dirt path past the tower and into the woods. Once a hiker drops downgrade past the tower, the grassy knoll disappears from view: it may as well be another park entirely. Even if you haven’t been to the park, you have almost certainly seen it. The radio tower on top of council crest is clearly visible, the smaller of the two towers located away from the main clump of radio masts.

The forests of Council Crest, downhill from the grassy knoll
on the summit. This is a peaceful woodland, dominated by
the usual assortment of native trees.

Underneath the mantle of forest that covers Council crest, a network of unpaved trails wind to and fro across the mountainside. The forest is thick, and composed of big leaf maple and Douglas Fir with underbrush as well, though this is largely being overtaken by the invasive English Ivy and holly. A few rebellious violets add dots of yellow to the hillside as the paths descend among the trees.  During the springtime, the sun is still coming in at an angle, giving everything a somewhat hunting but beautiful look, and the temperatures are warm enough to be bearable and pleasantly cool. Signs designate various marked trails that crisscross the hill, including the fabled “4-T Trail” (I will get to you later, my friend.) All of these trails eventually emerge near the end of the park, along an alignment once home to a wagon road and trolley line, long since gone serving the amusement park once perched on the summit, also gone. And here is where the adventure starts. Most visitors to the park would turn around and return to the summit, but if a traveller continues downhill, they run into some rather interesting feats of Portland architecture.

A Neighborhood on Stilts

The neighborhood surrounding Council crest are equally intriguing. In some places, the streets cross at grade. In others, ancient-looking stone bridges carry the main drag downhill towards Portland, while another road, dug out of the mountain goes under the bridge to serve the slopes of Council crest. The twisting sidewalks and roadways give the area an Escher-esque design. Houses lined narrow alley is breaking off that sharp angles from the main streets.

The wooden "sidewalk on stilts" follows
the road heading downhill towards

The road is carved into the hillside, leaving little flat land for development. However, instead of leaving the area undeveloped, builders solved these problems in rather creative ways. The road’s shoulder ends about five feet off the ground, leaving no room for a sidewalk. The solution? Put the sidewalk on stilts! Even if you don’t realize that the pathway stands on its own wooden legs, the old style boardwalks with sandpaper on them to prevent slipping is likely to stand out as a bit odd. These sidewalks serve houses—also on stilts—at small alcoves with stairways leading down to front doors, or small bridges. The unique sidewalk and stairways seem to resemble a peculiar elevated railway, and give the area a local charm that cannot be found elsewhere in town easily.

It’s difficult to envision just how old this area is from what a visitor sees on a walkabout like mine. But if, just for a moment, you stop and close your eyes, you might be able to picture trolleys running too and fro, taking eager families to the amusement park that once topped Portland’s highest hill. It’s all gone now, but the unique ambiance is not. Nor will it likely be in the near future.