Oregon & Washington Coasts   Having looked into the past of the Oregon Territory, let’s return to the present. Having left California and having considered the significance of its northern border to the Oregon Territory, I then drove the entire length of Oregon from south to north, stopping for the occasional ocean views. Including those short stops, plus a necessary 20-minute nap, the drive to Astoria took 8.5 hours. Since it was the last day before the change back to standard time, daylight held out long enough, and I arrived at the Cannery Pier Hotel just in time for their wine-and-snacks hour.

In Astoria that weekend I not only visited the already mentioned Lewis and Clark sites and Oregon City, but some additional sites of interest as well.

PORTLAND When I was in Oregon City, today a suburb of Portland, I drove along some local roads through parkland into the center of Portland, just to have another look around. I like Portland, but it is not a destination city. Its downtown was laid out with petite city blocks and not-to-wide streets, which gives it a cozy feeling. The size of the streets makes it harder to drive on them, but Portland was an early leader in going back to light rail.

I also drove up to Union Station, where we had taken the Portland branch of the Empire Builder back East when we were there in 1988. In this manner, the railroad between Portland and Chicago represents the next step after the Oregon Trail of the northern travel route. The Portland branch merges in Spokane with the Seattle branch to Chicago, which is essentially the principal branch, and which I will be using this time to Chicago. In this way, both Seattle and Portland are at the western end of the northern route now, which is appropriate, since both the Columbia River and Puget Sound were the two principal maritime areas of the old Oregon Territory.

The Pacific Northwest is plagued with name problems. I’ve discussed in the past that George Vancouver was over-honored by his name being given to (1) Vancouver Island, where Victoria is, (2) the major city of Vancouver, British Columbia, and (3) the city of Vancouver, Washington, just north of Portland.

George Washington was then over-honored by giving his name to the upper part of the US coastal section of the Oregon Territory, given that the national capital already had that name, plaguing all of us ever since with having to clear up which Washington we mean. What were they thinking?

And then there’s Portland, which was almost Boston, one worse than the other (they’re both nice names, but we only need one of each). Two original settlers wanted to name the new town in 1845 after one place or another in New England, Portland, Maine, or Boston, Massachusetts, and Portland was won by the toss of a coin. Yet I doubt that it was a win, given the confusion. Portland, Maine, today has 64,000 inhabitants, with 230,000 in the metropolitan area, but Portland, Oregon far surpasses it in size, with 568,000 inhabitants (8.8 times larger), and 2 million metropolitan (8.6 times larger). Although we now have to bother to distinguish which Portland we mean, when we do not distinguish, people assume that the larger Portland, in Oregon, is being referred to. It would seem that the original city, rather than being honored, is losing some of its identity. Seattle also almost had naming confusion, which I’ll discuss at the time.

MOUNT SAINT HELENS (WASHINGTON) The same day I did my quick visit to Oregon City and Portland I went to see Mount Saint Helens, just north of Portland in Washington, down a long, but new road. It was drizzly, but they were closing up for the winter the following week, so I took what I could get, which means I learned a lot but couldn’t see the top of Mount Saint Helens even though it was right across from where I was at the visitor center of the Johnston Ridge Observatory, since it’s almost always in fog this time of the year anyway, with only a 25% chance of seeing it (and only 75% in summer, anyway). But being there was important, and I was interested in what I learned.

Good old George Vancouver, when exploring the area in 1792, saw the mountain and named it for his friend, the English Baron Saint Helens, which explains (?) its unusual name. More than just a mountain, it’s a dormant volcano, and at only 40,000 years old, it’s the youngest of the major volcanoes in the Cascade Mountains. But some volcanoes explode, while others flow. Instead of releasing pressure gradually, or even constantly, like Kilauea that I’d be seeing in Hawaii shortly, it built up huge pressure, and finally on 18 May 1980, with the force of several atomic bombs, it blew away its northern flank. This means that, looking south from where I was, I would have seen a cone with its close side missing, and not fog, so you visualize it as I had to do.

In other words, by day’s end that day, its height of 9677 ft / 2950 m was reduced to 8363 ft / 2549 m, a loss of 14%. The crater is 1 mi / 1.6 km wide and 2000 ft / 610 m deep.

The event was characterized by four distinct occurrences. First, the release of power caused a landslide, the largest ever recorded on earth, as the entire north flank of the mountain collapsed down the slope.

Secondly, the blast itself was evidenced on what it did to trees, many still visible. The closest trees were simply sheared off, with just stumps remaining. Trees further away fell like pickup sticks. Photos still shows them lying there. Trees furthest away caught fire, leaving a burned forest. This happened over a quarter-century ago, and the forests are still recovering.

The snowmelt was the third thing. All that water hit the valley and went up the other side, like in a bathtub, moving fallen trees, then rocked back. Johnston Ridge opposite the mountain, where the observatory is, and where I was standing, deflected the mudflow, when then ran down the river valley that I had just driven up.

Finally, the ash that blew up covered not only the local region, but spread entirely around the world.

David Johnston was a vulcanologist manning an observation point that morning on what was then Coldwater Ridge (now Johnston Ridge, named after him) 6 mi / 10 km from the eruption. He had been the only one to correctly predict the nature of the eruption, that it would be lateral and not vertical. He was the first to report the eruption, transmitting the famous message: “Vancouver! Vancouver! This is it!” He was then swept away by the very lateral blast he had predicted, and his body was never found.

The eruption is illustrated here on YouTube, showing all four occurrences of the event. The very first thing you hear is the fateful message Johnston broadcast. Mount Saint Helens 1980 Eruption

ASTORIA I’ve been speaking quite a bit now without mentioning travel specifics in Astoria itself. That late afternoon after the 8.5-hour drive up the Oregon coast, I reached the bay near Fort Clatsop and crossed over the causeway to the peninsula Astoria is on. The town looked very attractive in the setting sun. I had found another interesting hotel online, the Cannery Pier Hotel, only about three years old. It’s a luxury boutique hotel built 600 ft / 183 m into the river on an old cannery pier that had belonged to the former Union Fish Company from the turn of the 20C, which employed primarily Finnish workers. As I said, I just made it for wine and snacks as I checked in. The hotel is contemporary in style, yet invokes a factory atmosphere in its lobby, which nevertheless has several gas fireplaces. From the lobby and every room you can look across the entire 4.5 mi / 7.2 km width of the river, even to the Cape Disappointment lighthouse, which makes it that more poignant that Lewis and Clark had to decide which side of the river would be better for wintering. Just to the right of the hotel is the Astoria Bridge from the 1960’s. It rises very high on the Astoria side, then becomes a causeway before rising somewhat again on the opposite shore.

The room was very large, with its own gas fireplace. The bathroom had a tub, similar to what I have in New York, where you could look from the tub through a large opening, across the bedroom and out to the river view, so I just had to have a bath one time. This is only similar to the tub with its own direct view, not through the bedroom, on the Ngorongoro Crater.

Finally, the hotel had two antique cars, a 1947 Cadillac and a 1939 Buick, which were used to chauffeur guests to restaurants in town. I was very pleased that I got to ride in the 1939 Buick, since that was the car my father had when I was growing up, and which he drove us to Chattanooga in on the family’s first trip of any importance in 1952 (2004/22). As I experienced it again, I remembered the scratchy gray upholstery, the split front windshield, and the odd-shaped, double back window. I also remember the straps to pull yourself up with to get out of the back, and most certainly, the fact that the rear doors opened towards the back. What a time-travel memory.

After crossing the Astoria Bridge back into Washington again, then north, there were only occasional beach views as I drove up the Olympic peninsula, west of Puget Sound, in the center of which are the Olympic Mountains and Olympic National Park.

OLYMPIC NATIONAL PARK The park includes some attractive lakes I drove along, but its western (Pacific) side is known for its heavy rainfall (why does that not surprise?) of up to 140-150 in / 3556-3810 mm per year, which promotes the growth of the rain forests. I drove into the park and up a long road into the Hoh Rain Forest. It was sunny when I turned off the main road, and the higher I climbed, the more fog there was, until I was once again in drizzle. It being off-season on a weekday, few people were present and even the visitor center was open only on weekends. Not to worry. On the way in, the heavy tree growth of spruce, fir, hemlock, and red cedar (this was well north of the redwood area) with large ferns filling in the spaces between gave a mystical appearance, augmented by the fact that from literally every branch there was hanging long, dripping moss. Spruces of 12 ft / 3.7 m diameter were not uncommon, nor was annual growth of up to 14 ft / 4.3 m, reaching a height of 200-300 ft / 61-91 m. At the closed visitor center was a short trail to experience the rain forest more closely. The area was made a World Heritage Site in 1981.

Later, on the north side of the park just behind Port Angeles, I was able to drive somewhat into the mountains (the road was open much further in season) to see the snow-capped, crenellated peaks of the nearby Olympics. The next day, I could see them even better, right above the town, from the ferry to Canada.

I had found an adequate hotel in Port Angeles one block from the ferry. The hotel had advertised on their website that you could leave your car with them for only $5 a day to take the ferry, which was ideal for my purposes. The next morning I took the ferry as a foot passenger with my wheeled bag for one night in Canada. After the 90-minute crossing of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, the ship docked in the Inner Harbour of Victoria, just two blocks from the Empress Hotel, my destination.

VICTORIA (BRITISH COLUMBIA) I came here for two reasons. I wanted to include in my itinerary the British Columbia part of what had been the Oregon Territory, but primarily I wanted to have high tea at the Empress. When we were in Victoria years ago and just passed by the Empress, Beverly had mentioned that she’d had tea there earlier and that we’d have to do it sometime. which never happened, so Carpe diem!

The Empress, named after Queen Victoria just as the city is, but in her role instead as Empress of India, is one of those classical hostelries. It was just celebrating its centennial, and I wanted to stay one night, have high tea as well as dinner in its fabulous dining room, and see the city again. When I booked the room months ago online, I was promptly asked if I wished to book tea as well, that’s how popular it is. As a matter of fact, although traditional tea time is four o’clock, high tea is served at the Empress all afternoon to accommodate all those wanting it. It can be said that the Empress is more British than the British, but then so is Victoria in general in many ways.

After checking in, I walked around town for a few hours. There is a nice view of the Provincial Parliament of BC diagonally across Government Street from the Empress, and then I walked ten minutes up Government Street to the business district. There has been restoration and reuse of many traditional Victorian brick buildings in the center, similar to that of Latimer Square in Denver. Along Wharf Street by the harbour, some of those buildings were used by the Klondikers on their way north. There is also a historic Chinatown of interest.

Fort Victoria was founded in 1843 as the headquarters for the fur traders of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and in 1862, Victoria became the first incorporated city in western Canada. It had somehow hoped that the coming of the railroad across Canada would further increase its fortunes—I don’t know how, given that the Strait of Georgia separates Victoria’s Vancouver Island from the mainland—but instead the railroad caused the city of Vancouver on the mainland to blossom instead.

The Bay is one of Canada’s principal department stores. You find one in every city. But it seems odd to me that the name is short for the same historic Hudson’s Bay Company dating from 1670, and is the oldest commercial company in North America, and one of the oldest in the world. For instance, on the pavement on the edge of Government Street was a historic marker showing the location of part of the foundation of Fort Victoria, founded by the Hudson’s Bay Company, and yet down the same street was a large branch of the Bay, which I went into, not because I wanted to go shopping, but because of the historical connection.

At the hotel, I went down to the Tea Lobby for my 3 PM reservation. This lobby had been part of the original entrance to the hotel, but was now just used for high tea. Actually, it being again off season and midweek, it wasn’t too crowded, and I was given a harbour-view table. There was piano music in the background, and the waitress was extremely attentive. After a cup of strawberries and cream, there were choices of teas, including the Empress special blend, which I decided upon. A multi-tiered tray appeared with sandwiches, pastries and scones. At the end, I was given a complimentary box of tea bags of their special blend. It was a very civilizing experience.

After writing in my room for a few hours, it was time for dinner in the baronial, wood-paneled dining room, where the chairs were armchairs that you settled deeply into. The food was as exquisite as the atmosphere and service, but after that tea, I was going to be in trouble, so I avoided a main course and ordered two appetizers, first a soup and then a scallop dish. It occurred to me to compare this with the meager-portion experience in Denver. The soup was not large, but ample, and there were three large scallops with sauce here, as an appetizer, which the Palace Arms had tried to pull off as an entrée. I completed dinner quite satisfied with a cheese course chosen from a rolling cart of many cheeses, and a 20-year old port chosen from a rolling bar of just after-dinner drinks that included more kinds of port than you can imagine. Civilizing indeed.

I also have to talk here about the election. I’ve never traveled in the autumn before, and certainly not in a presidential election year. Over the previous weekend I had had to adjust to the time change, where Saturday afternoon with DST I had been able to arrive at the Astoria hotel still in daylight, but coming back from a drive Sunday on standard time I arrived in the dark. Then Tuesday in Port Angeles I followed the election results—sort of. Living in the Eastern Time Zone, I’m used to hearing significant election results on TV once many polls close at 9 PM ET. Although I had been following on TV, I went out for a bite to eat at 6 PM--and came back to find Obama had been elected. If I’d thought about the fact that 9 PM ET is only 6 PM PT, I could have gone to eat later, as I usually do, anyway. But although I missed the actual call, I did hear all the speeches afterward.

Then the next night, Wednesday, in Victoria, I followed some TV election news as well, and was amazed to see the involvement of Canadians in the US election. On election day, apparently a group had crossed on the ferry to Port Angeles where they had displayed banners reading “Canadians for Obama”. They also interviewed a Canadian college student who had spent a lot of time calling numbers in various US states, urging a vote for Obama, and they showed him having spoken to an auto worker in Ohio. I had also read a columnist in the Globe & Mail in the hotel lobby who pointed out that the US President has more influence on Canadians than their own Prime Minister, yet they have no voice in choosing him. Interesting point.

PORT TOWNSEND Back in Washington the next day, I had only a short drive to Port Townsend, located at the northeast tip of the Olympic peninsula, right where the Strait of Juan de Fuca joins Puget Sound. That point itself, now a park, was long settled by the Indians, on the brink of those turbulently merging waters. Port Townsend itself was established as a port down on the Puget Sound side of that point. By 1889, it was second only to New York in the number of ships tying up in its harbor. It fully expected to become the regional metropolis, especially when the northern transcontinental railroad reached it. (That’s a little curious, given its location on the far side of Puget Sound, but not impossible—the railroad could have gone around the Sound’s southern end.) In anticipation of further growth and prosperity with the arrival of the railroad, the Victorians built themselves mansions up on the bluff over the downtown, as well as a substantial brick downtown as well.

But the railroad went to Seattle instead on the eastern side of Puget Sound, and in time, Port Townsend settled into a decline. But it is one of the best-preserved examples of a Victorian seaport in the US, and is now in its entirety a National Historic Landmark, and has become an arts center.

After exploring the park at the point, I drove among the Victorians on the bluff, most with a view of Puget Sound and its islands. I then went through the commercial district, quite compact in its few blocks along the Sound, and checked out the quaint restaurant I’d selected earlier for dinner that evening. Finally, I drove back up on the bluff to the 1889 James House B&B and checked in. It was all the website had shown. I had picked a bedroom with a Sound view, and the public rooms were just what you’d expect of Victorian charm. There were three other arts-connected guests that I met briefly, primarily at breakfast the next morning. But in the late afternoon and evening, I partook of the sherry and cookies provided in the cozy living room, sat down in front of the gas fireplace, and enjoyed working on the laptop.

Seattle   I was told many people simply drive around the Sound to Seattle, but I chose to take the half-hour Bainbridge ferry across the Sound, right into downtown Seattle, as many commuters do, and also for the skyline view. Driving off the ferry, the first thing that startled me driving straight ahead was driving quite suddenly uphill, very reminiscent of San Francisco. Actually, I was told later by a museum guide that a lot of the hills had been lowered or removed over time. But while San Francisco’s hills are in various locations, in Seattle, just going inland from the waterfront is generally all up, sometimes startlingly.

I’ve gotten to like Seattle quite a bit on this trip. I’ll mention two areas of interest, and then my two favorites. At the northern end of the central business district is the 1962 Space Needle (605 ft / 184 m), easily visible from the ferry, and I also drove up to it for closer inspection. We had gone to the top years ago, and even ate in the revolving restaurant. It’s become the symbol of Seattle, but I really don’t care for it, and it certainly doesn’t compare with the beautiful Gateway Arch in Saint Louis. The monorail also connects it a short distance to midtown.

Centrally located is the retail district. It’s nice enough, but the only thing that impressed me was driving by Nordstrom’s flagship store. I never knew that Nordstrom’s started in Seattle. Apparently Swedish-born John Nordstrom even went off to the Klondike.

PIKE PLACE MARKET This area gets interesting where Pike Street comes down to the bluffs above the waterfront and, at First Avenue, makes a sharp turn north, altering its name to Pike Place, and becomes the site of the Pike Place Market, my second-favorite area of Seattle. It was established as a produce market in 1907, declined mid-century and was almost demolished, then public outcry brought it back, and today, it’s one of the most popular areas in town. (As proof, on arrival I noticed about 30 Japanese having a group portrait taken in front of a fruit stand. What more proof of popularity could you need?) There are several market buildings on both sides of Pike Place. There was also some parking right on Pike Place with a reasonable turnover, and amazingly, I got a space. It was a nice stroll through the several buildings of the market. There’s a huge fish market, and a flower market. In the produce area they were giving away slices of apples and pears as samples. You could sample chocolate-covered dried cherries, and spicy jams, and there were many small restaurants and cafés. The Market bubbled with life, and here it was only a weekday afternoon. It is worth noting that the tiny, original Starbucks is located on Pike Place right in the middle of the Market area.

PIONEER SQUARE As the name implies, First Avenue is close to Seattle’s Elliott Bay, and just nine blocks down First Avenue from Pike Place Market is my favorite area, favorite because of the history. It’s Pioneer Square, where it all began, so let’s see now just what it was that began, with some selected information.

In 1851, settling in among the local Chinook Indians (whose chief was named Seatlh) were some disappointed Forty-Niners up from California and a group from Illinois who had gone to Portland on the Oregon Trail, but then decided to work their way north to here. The settlement’s first name was the unwieldy New York-Alki, “alki” being the Chinook word implying “after a while”. This expressed the hope of these Illinois natives of the settlement becoming the New York of the Northwest. However, mercifully, that awkward name was dropped in favor of the name of the local chief, Seatlh, in the version “Seattle”. (I continue to be astounded at the inclination of people in this region toward copy-cat names: the three Vancouvers locally, and nationally, the two Washingtons, two Portlands, almost two Bostons, and almost two New Yorks.)

It became obvious that lumbering would become a mainstay of the area, and the settlers offered land down near the waterfront to a certain Henry Yesler (who later became mayor), where he built a steam-powered sawmill. A street was laid out due east inland, called Yesler Way, which was used to skid logs downhill (don’t forget the hills of Seattle) to the sawmill, and Yesler Way, because the logs got a long, downhill slide, got the nickname Skid Road.

Pioneer Square, on Yesler Way (at First Avenue), was the first permanent settlement, and became the original center of the new city. After the great fire of 1889 the extensive Victorian red-brick Romanesque Revival buildings were built that can still be seen today, most notably the Pioneer Building right on Pioneer Square. But a dispute had broken out early on between the landowners to the north and south of Yesler Way, and two different street patterns were platted. To the south of east-west Yesler Way, the streets to this day are parallel and perpendicular to it, so that the blocks form squares. But Elliott Bay to the north of Yesler Way bends slightly, and that landowner wanted his streets parallel to the bay, so that the blocks form instead diamonds (we’ve already discussed this sort of thing earlier for Minneapolis, Denver, and San Francisco). There is therefore the inevitable clash of streets right at Yesler Way, with northern avenues either bending to fit the new pattern or having been cut through to maintain the old pattern. As a matter of fact, Pioneer Place, the center of the Pioneer Square area, is triangular simply because First Avenue bends where it’s about to cross Yesler Way. (Denver’s Brown Palace Hotel is also triangular because of the clash of street patterns). In the end, though, the squares won, and the diamond-block area of downtown is now surrounded by square blocks on all the three sides not on the bay, but with the inevitable clash of merging streets, causing headaches when driving.

In 1893, James J Hill brought his transcontinental Great Northern Railroad to Seattle, and its future growth was sealed. Hill was nicknamed the Empire Builder, so the GN’s flagship train (now run by Amtrak) was also named that. Hill built Seattle’s King Street Station for it, located just four blocks down Second Avenue from Pioneer Square.

Just four years later, in 1897, as described when I was in Skagway, in the Alaskan panhandle (2005/13), the SS Portland arrived in Seattle on 17 July with a reported two tons of Klondike gold on board, and gold fever swept Seattle and beyond, and Seattle became the Gateway to the Klondike. (The all-land all-Canada route that the Canadian government promoted was essentially a hopeless route.) The street along Seattle’s waterfront is still called Alaskan Way, and even today, many cruise ships to Alaska leave from Seattle. Somehow I doubt that passengers on those ships visualize they are following in the footsteps of the Klondikers by sailing to Alaska from Seattle. But in four years, the Seattle assayer’s office weighed in $174 million in gold, and that’s in turn-of-the-20C dollars.

The early 20C was not good for Pioneer Square, and it declined. In the depression, a shantytown developed south of Yesler Way. But out of this came an interesting language point. Yesler Way—Skid Road—gave its name to the surrounding neighborhood, which was then forlorn and full of the homeless. At that point, anyone who was down-and-out was described as “being on Skid Road”, which in time became altered and more generic as “being on skid row”. So it all started with logs being rolled downhill.

The Bowery in New York went through a similar period (as did neighborhoods elsewhere), and a similar expression arose, “being on the Bowery”, but it never became quite as generic. For instance, before the recent renaissance of the Bowery you could say that the Bowery was New York’s skid row, as a generic term. You can still call depressed neighborhoods “skid rows” but you can’t use “Bowery” in the same way.

A 2001 earthquake damaged some historic buildings as well, but it was the destruction of the historic Seattle Hotel on another triangle right off Pioneer Place in order to build a parking ramp (at least of unusual shape, like a ship) that was the last straw and became a battle cry, and the Pioneer Square neighborhood was declared Seattle’s first National Historic District in 1969. Just two years later, in 1971, the Pike Place Market was also declared one.

That first day in Seattle off the Bainbridge ferry I drove around the Pioneer Square neighborhood, but didn’t have the time (or parking place) I wanted. That was not a problem, since I’d be coming right back in a couple of weeks, so I drove to the airport to return the car, then spent the night at an airport hotel before flying to Hawaii the next morning.

It was already dark when the flight back from Hawaii arrived, and, from the Downtowner Airport Shuttle, I essentially got a tour of nighttime Seattle, including the Space Needle and Pike Place Market. But I had planned to stay in the Pioneer Square area because I wanted to see it better the next day, because it was walkable to King Street Station, and because I had found online a special hotel that fit in historically.

The Arctic Club was founded in 1908 as a men’s club, many of whom were returning (wealthy) Klondikers. The Arctic Building was built in 1916, in light-colored terra cotta, with its distinctive long row of walrus-head sculptures along a cornice. Earlier this year it was refurbished and redone as the boutique Arctic Club Hotel, a Historic Hotel of America. The cozy lobby had a gas fireplace, and the hotel is only 2-3 blocks from Pioneer Place. (On returning home, I found to my delight that the November/December issue of Preservation Magazine, published by the National Trust for Historic Preservation, had a major article on Seattle, and not only featured Pioneer Square, but the Arctic Club Hotel.)

The next morning I went online, but then had time until the late-afternoon departure of the Empire Builder, so spent the afternoon, now pleasantly carless, walking the red-brick Victorian neighborhood I had wanted to see more carefully earlier.

The white, terra-cotta Smith Tower right near Pioneer Place was built in 1914 by Lyman Smith of typewriter and weapon fame (Smith-Corona, Smith & Wesson). At 42 stories, it was the tallest building outside New York for a half-century.

Nearby is the partially enclosed Waterfall Park. On entering the half-open area, there is a huge waterfall on one side, with nearby seating areas. The park is located where the United Parcel Service (UPS) started and is dedicated to its employees.

Just as Skagway has the Klondike Goldrush NHP, there is a Seattle branch of it in the red-brick former Cadillac Hotel. I spent quite a while chatting with a ranger about the preservation of the neighborhood.

Right on triangular Pioneer Place is a beautiful wrought-iron pergola from 1909 that was built to protect passengers waiting for streetcars and cable cars (yes, cable cars).

Utilikilts   Also right on Pioneer Square and First Avenue is the location of the Utilikilt store, and here we need a discussion of innovation in Seattle.

A lot of things have come out of Seattle. Frederick Weyerhaeuser started his lumber business here in 1900. William Boeing moved from lumber to aviation here in 1916. We’ve talked about John Nordstrom starting his shoe store here in 1901 fresh out of the Klondike and developing that into upscale department stores across the country. The United Parcel Service (UPS) started here in 1907.

More recently, Seattle has moved from being an innovator to being a cultural trendsetter. The Costco membership warehouse club chain started here in 1983, and now people all across the country find themselves buying in bulk. Starbucks was founded in the Pike Place Market in 1971 and coffee drinking was not the same again.

In this innovative and trendsetting tradition, the Utilikilts Company was founded here in April 2000. It is low-key, does no advertising, and relies primarily on word of mouth. It sells online and at its Pioneer Square store (and supplies kilts to other stores around the country), so before discussion goes any further, you must look at their website. It will explain what it’s all about and show some styles: www.Utilikilts.com

They are not traditional Scottish plaid kilts used for ceremonial purposes. They are “utilitarian kilts” meant for everyday use. The customers of these “men’s unbifurcated garments” are the biggest supporters, so enjoy some of the pseudo-commercials customers have supplied, called “mock-u-mercials”, of which there are many. I recommend:

I had seen Utilikilts mentioned on TV in a documentary on another subject, and became immediately intrigued. I had planned buying one online, but then, knowing I would be in the Utilikilt mecca in a few months, I waited. I am now kilted. I think “Pioneer” is a key word in the location of the store. Entering the store, there is both a macho and earthy quality. Here, you tell it as it is, which is very refreshing. They have a very large selection, including workmen’s models, a tuxedo model, and one in leather. I was with Nick, the retail manager, a husky man in a kilt and army boots, but in this store you should picture neither extreme, effeminacy or Hell’s Angels. It’s just a “guy” place. People kept coming in to browse, and a woman came in for a kilt for her husband. It could have been a surprise, but many guys get a new one each year, and it could have been that.

In the earthy vein, Nick brought me a kilt as I happened to be facing the wall in the back. He held it around me on three sides, and said “Drop ‘em”. There were no dressing rooms—I said the atmosphere was earthy. Actually, it was similar to changing a bathing suit at the beach with a towel around you. I bought a black twill kilt in the basic model with two large, long, external cargo pockets on the side (“they keep your junk away from your junk”), a very thick, heavy black belt, and knee socks, and I was set. There was a large world map near the front of the store, and after I bought them, Nick gave me a push pin, which I added to New York City. There were many pins bristling across North America, and quite a few across Europe and elsewhere, including in Australia.

The company likes to use Chicago Architect Louis Sullivan’s motto that Form Follows Function, which makes quite a bit of sense, given male anatomy. As I left the store, a sign said “Let freedom swing”. In that vein, when asked what you wear under a kilt, a suggested answer is “socks”. Also, although I don’t watch “Survivor” on TV, I have heard of Richard Hatch, and understand he wore a Utilikilt on the program, resulting in a large boost in sales. I believe in 2006 they sold 15,000 kilts.

The Seattle Weekly described it as “a cause, a commitment, a crusade”, saying that it was in harmony with the Zeitgeist. “Once worn … Utilikilts sell themselves…. The first few ventures in public may produce a little self-consciousness; the third or fourth time, you glance up and wonder what people are gawking at…. Comfort alone doesn’t explain the violent loyalty customers feel for their garments…. [A]part from a little pleasure taken in a little unconventiality, there’s a male thing going on….”

Empire Builder   When the railroads came to replace the trails and connect the midwest via the northern route to the Pacific, they came first not to Portland but to Seattle instead. In 1864 the Northern Pacific Railway was the first on the northern route, and by 1883 it had connected Chicago with Seattle. But it was railroader James J Hill, whose nickname was the Empire Builder, who built his showcase railroad along the northernmost transcontinental route in the US, the Great Northern Railway, which reached Seattle in 1893. The Great Northern promoted Glacier National Park in Montana, through which its route passed, as a tourist attraction, and its flagship train that started running in 1929 was also called the Empire Builder. It is now run by Amtrak from Seattle (with a connection from Portland connecting in Spokane) 2206 mi / 3550 km to Chicago. In fiscal 2007 the Empire Builder carried over a half-million passengers, and maintained its status as the most popular of Amtrak’s long-distance trains. In the first half of fiscal 2008 its ridership was up 9% over last year.

Just a few short blocks south of Pioneer Square is Seattle’s King Street Station, on the National Register of Historic Places. It was built by Hill in 1906 after his GN had acquired the NP, and has a large tower modeled after the Campanile di San Marco in Venice. It was allowed to deteriorate over the years, but is now being restored, and was purchased by the City of Seattle earlier this year for $10. The ongoing restoration is being documented within the station, including a newspaper clipping from 1967 praising the “face-lifting” the station was being given at that time, including the installation of a styrofoam suspended ceiling cutting the height of the waiting room in half. At the moment you can see the true, high ceiling where the false ceiling has partially been removed. It makes you wonder: what were they thinking in 1967?

Although invited to wear the Utilikilt out of the store, I chose not to, but as soon as I was in my room on the train I put it on, with the belt and knee socks. I wasn’t really too self-conscious about my first time going out in it, but I wanted to solicit opinions first. I was very pleased at the nonchalant reactions. I woman attendant from another car that I had spoken to came by first. Her neutral reaction: “Oh. You’ve got a Utilikilt. A man who does work around my house wears one all the time.” Then I spotted a passenger I had been speaking to earlier. His reaction was also a mere: “Oh. You’ve got a Utilikilt.” There was no fuss, no excitement. I wore it to dinner and the whole two nights/three days on the Empire Builder. I’m sure people noticed, but there was virtually no gawking, and it made a good conversation piece at the dinner table. And so, I crossed North America kilted.

Last year when I was between trains in Chicago (2007/16: Southwest Chief from LA / Lake Shore Limited to NY) I stopped for dinner at Topolobampo. I was pleased to hear recently that Barack Obama often dines there with his family. This year I met friends at Russian Tea Time, and wore the kilt, for the first time, outdoors. The weather in September last year was notably different from late November this year, especially when one is in a kilt, and Chicago IS called the Windy City. But it was an enjoyable outing.

Once again I took the Lake Shore Limited overnight to New York to see how the kilt fared this far from its home base of Seattle, and going home from Penn Station on the subway, little notice was taken. But then, New Yorkers are known for being blasé. On Thanksgiving, I wore it on the Long Island Rail Road to the family dinner. My sisters rolled their eyes, and my mother took me aside. Why do I want to wear that kilt? And again, how about cutting off that pony tail?

Holiday Time   Wearing the Utilikilt to holiday museum parties has been a hoot. I went to the South Street Seaport Museum party, and most people didn’t say anything until I brought it up. When I wore it to the Merchants House Museum party, it was even more fun. Right off, an artsy-looking woman came up and congratulated me for wearing it, and she said the ponytail fit right in. Once I started bringing up the subject, I had some long and interesting conversations.

An odd thing—at the finger food table at this party I thought the woman to my left, who was turned somewhat away from me, looked an awful lot like Glenn Close at that angle. Then she turned toward me and—it was Glenn Close. Apparently she was someone’s guest. One thing about New York, people don’t pester celebrities. She was with two men, and everyone in the room was übercool about the situation and didn’t bother her.

Only afterwards did it occur to me, especially since I had found her standing right next to me at the table, to say something clever like “Well, Norma Desmond!”, since she was so good on Broadway in Sunset Boulevard. Or how about one of the signature lines like “We didn’t need dialogue. We had faces!” But no, that’s still tacky. Better be cool. (And in a breezy kilt, that’s easy.)

I also wore it to the lobby party here in the Regatta. I probably never talked to so many people at that party as this time. It was lots of fun.

Middlebury College is not having its usual holiday parties in New York, Boston, and Vermont this year, as I’ve described in the past. The economic crisis is such that they have to turn monies into additional scholarships for students who suddenly can’t pay their bills.

When I saw and enjoyed so much the musical version of Billy Elliot in London last year (2007/11), I said I’d see it again when it came to New York, which I did, single tickets being easy to get online. It was just as spectacular, and this time, since I knew what was coming, I could anticipate some things. For instance, in the scene where Billy dances with an adult playing Billy’s older self, and then goes flying around the stage and to the ceiling, it was easy to spot just when the other dancer attached, and later detached, the cable on Billy’s hidden harness. Equus has also moved here from London to acclamation, and with the same leads, Richard Griffiths and Daniel Radcliffe, but I had seen the original production on Broadway as well as in London, and I don’t have any current plans to see it again. But then, you never know.