“Do you like Oregon City?” some one asks. “I not only like it,” answers Mrs. Robinson, “but I am proud of it. It is a town with a history. The site of Oregon City was first located in the year 1829 by Dr. John McLoughlin, an agent of the Hudson Bay Company, who established a trading post here. It was here a few years later that the Methodists built the first Protestant church erected on the Pacific slope. The Oregon Spectator, the first newspaper published on the Pacific coast, was printed here in 1846 on a press brought from the Sandwich Islands. We have a climate,” she continued, “that never goes to extremes; we seldom have freezing weather, and snow, if it comes, only lasts a few hours. I have gathered roses in my yard on Christmas, for very rarely the cold is severe enough to destroy our flowers. We have not grown so rapidly as some of the younger cities of the Northwest, but we have all the natural advantages and facilities to insure and encourage progress and development. We have excellent graded schools that are well attended, and as an evidence of the educational importance of our city, the Willamette Valley Chautauqua Association holds its annual convention or assembly at Gladstone Park, not far from Oregon City. These meetings are largely attended, thousands coming from all parts of the Pacific coast. The people will commence to gather for these meetings next week, and I expect we will have our hands full; but here’s where I get off,” and rising as the car stops she bids us goodday and steps off.
We have reached Portland, and after proceeding a few blocks under the guidance of Brother Young, we leave the electric road and board a cable car for Portland Heights, a high eminence overlooking the city and commanding a magnificent view of all the surrounding country for many miles. We gaze down upon three rivers, the Columbia, Willamette, and Clackamas, and follow with our eyes their sinuous windings as their waters gleam and glimmer in the sun. We can plainly see the hoary crests of Mt. Adams and Saint Helens, but clouds still hovering on the eastern horizon keep Mt. Hood hidden from our sight. With the perversity of human nature, that is always hankering for what is beyond its reach, we want a look at Mt. Hood. “We came up here to see it,” says Mrs. Dougherty, “and if
it’s only a wee glimpse I want it.” So do we all, and we keep our gaze riveted on the spot where Brother Young says it will appear, if it shows at all.
“Mt. Hood is 70 miles away,” says Brother Young, “but on a perfectly clear day a person from here can see it very plainly.” The clouds showing no inclination to favor us, we descend from the Heights, get aboard a car, and start for the station, where we arrive about 1.30 P. M., and find the most of our people gathered there; they also have spent a very pleasant morning taking in the sights of Portland and gathering souvenirs.
Brothers Maxwell and Reagan, of the excursion executive committee, have not been idle, but calling upon Superintendent J. P. O’Brien, of the Oregon River and Navigation Company Rail Lines, have arranged for an excursion this afternoon up the banks of the Columbia River to Cascade Locks and return.
Getting lunch at a near-by restaurant, we are soon all ready for the start. Our three sleepers are attached to a regular train that leaves at 2.45 P. M. “Are all our people here?” asks Manager Wyman, surveying the crowd. “There are four or five that are absent, I believe,” answers Secretary Maxwell, as he nips the northeast corner off a plug of tobacco. “Sloane and Haas are not here, I know,” speaks out Brother Terry, “for they went out with a boy in a boat to watch the salmon shoot the falls of the Willamette and haven’t got back yet.” “Time’s up; can’t wait; all aboard,” shouts the conductor, and away we go, bound for a trip of 45 miles through the marvelous and unsurpassed scenery of the Columbia River. Superintendent O’Brien is with us, his private car being attached to the train. Chief Dispatcher E. N. Campbell, C. R. Holcomb, Esq., and Brother M. Young also accompany the party. L. J. Hicks, photographer, of Portland, is along in his professional capacity; we are also accompanied by the Portland Hotel orchestra, comprised of the following gentlemen: G. H. Parsons, J. Seltenraick, F. Boyd, William Livinston, Prof. E. F. Fleck, who render admirable and pleasing music. Many are the expressions of delight as we catch fleeting glimpses of the wonderful scenery. “You will have a better view on the return trip,” advises Mr. O’Brien, “for we will then run slow and make an occasional stop.” Arriving at Cascade Locks, we are given twenty minutes to visit the great locks which the Government is about completing, at a cost of nearly $1,500,000, to enable vessels to reach the highest navigable point of this most remarkable river.