On Agrarian Urbanism

An opportunity for point-counterpoint on the topic of Agrarian Urbanism - one that, with the recent explosion of discussion and interest in urban agriculture - is vital to discussing the place of food in the city, and what impact this will have on the form and function of our urban agglomerations.  The topic is poignant here in Portland, as it is both a hotbed of urban agriculture, as well striving for density through urban growth boundaries (UGBs) to protect adjacent farmland.  The question becomes one of spatial configuration - as space within cities can be allocated in whatever configuration we choose - but this does have implications on the overall spread.  I'm amazed with the ability to drive 10 minutes and find working farms - (while also looking around my neighborhood and finding working produce, poultry and other small-scale productive urban gardens).  Both of these will contribute to a final spatial arrangement of the city.

:: image via OregonLive

More on this urban/rural - inside/outside dichotomy, but for now a few bits of related reading.  Charles Waldheim has a recent post on Design Observer: Places, 'Notes Toward a History of Agrarian Urbanism', which is excerpted from the recent issue of Bracket: On Farming' and takes a mentioning Wright's Broadacre City, Ludwig Hilberseimers 'New Regional Pattern' and Branzi's Agronica  (a great article, once you translate from Italian here) which is great as a social critique, if not in its formal design qualities.  Looking backwards to see the future, the idea is to think about these not in terms of individual interventions, but with an eye on holistic urbanism.  From the article.

"To date the enthusiasm for slow and local food has been based, on the one hand, on the assumption that abandoned or underused brownfield sites could be remediated for their productive potential; and on the other it has been based on the trend toward conserving greenfield sites on city peripheries — on dedicating valuable ecological zones to food production and to limiting suburban sprawl. But these laudable goals are not much concerned with how urban farming might affect urban form."

:: image via Places

As a historical overview, Waldheim's thesis (the point) is to understand some of this utopian precedents, 

Broadacre City as a vision is appalling, but as a futurist prediction of auto-dominated sprawl, it may not be that far off.  To augment the examples mentioned, I would add Le Corbusiers' Radiant City - perhaps with a less modernist blank green space but as dense spires amidst farmland... Both this and Broadacre City are equally dispiriting, but in polar opposite ways.  In the abstract - both could be vehicles for agricultural urbanism that will appeal to a particular urban/suburban demographic of the population.

:: image via Brian's Culture Blog

The Howard-esque Garden City/Greenbelt City  is another integrated agro-urban example, focused more on concentration of uses (focused urban density) than full integration.  Similar to the drivers of Portland's UGB, there is clear compartmentalization of agriculture from city - keeping it in proximity but also at arms length... to connect the urban dweller to the rural worker in physical and cultural ways - at least in the abstract.

 :: image via Cornell Library

All the examples are not urban per se (as in densely agglomerated), but rather suburban (dependent on continued decentralization) in their contexts (or at least in their location of agricultural uses) - but do tell us much about the cooperative potential of the urban and the agricultural... perhaps the connection between the desire for land and space (our roots) and the historical suburban dispersion.  It was less about a 19th century model of  fleeing the ills of the city, as it was about recapturing some of our agrarian ideals.  The problem therein, lies in really tackling this in a truly urban form not the quasi-middle ground of suburbia (although a ripe ground for re-purposing to include agricultural uses, for sure). 

:: image via Places

The point is that it is fundamentally about what we want in cities (the actual urban parts, not the sprawling metropolitan statistical areas) - monocentric agglomeration and density or polycentric dispersion and space?  The point being, when looking at the 'landscape' of cities - the spaces for non-building, road, etc. there is opportunity (Mason White's 'Productive Surface'?) available at a variety of scales, where 'agriculture' amongst other uses (programmed and other) can exist within cities.  This may be the simplistic, Thus the continuum of spaces is not specifically relegated to the dispersed - large tracts of agricultural land in cities (reducing density, likely leading to sprawl) or the hyper-dense (and I say neo-utopian) vertical farms (technological solutions at exorbitant cost - although I hear they may save the world).

:: image via Treehugger

It's obvious that industrial agriculture is undergoing a necessary shift, and that some space is necessary for food production in the city, but the extent and shape of this (both spatially and culturally) is yet to be determined.  This differs (and influences) urbanism in many ways, depending on what you believe, where you live, and what you grow - amongst myriad other variable.  But is on the minds of many.  These are leading to both inventive proposals, the provocative, the cute and ephemeral, the strange, or the already tried and true - yet somehow new ideas, in the name of agriculture made urban.

The historical account of Waldheim may be compared to (the counterpoint), a similar crop of recent writings by Andres Duany on the same topic, particularly the New Urbanist recent interest in Agricultural Urbanism - which spawned a very NU-centric book (but mostly referenced by Duany as the same 'Agrarian' moniker).   As mentioned on Planetizen, this is to become an emphasis:

"At the 18th Annual Congress for New Urbanists, Andres Duany announced 'Agrarian Urbanism' as his new planning emphasis. He believes that the success of New Urbanism has stultified its progress and reduced its potential...  Agrarian urbanism is a society involved with the growing of food," explains Duany. He now aims to create a locavorous community where the resident is responsible for designing his "own utopia." Greg Lindsay believes the ideas could be attractive to the Whole Foods demographic but is unsure if they are ready for the hard work involved with growing food. Duany concedes that his agrarian communities would still "end up hiring Hispanic laborers to do the dirty work," but that these laborers would have a closer relationship with their employers."

For some of Duany's view on this topic (echoing the above quote) you can turn to Fast Company,  New Urbanism for the Apocalypse, a snapshot of the CNU annoucement, particularly how this viewpoint fits into the NU paradigm.  From the article:

"Agrarian urbanism, he explained, is different from both "urban agriculture" ("cities that are retrofitted to grow food") and "agricultural urbanism" ("when an intentional community is built that is associated with a farm)." He was thinking bigger: "Agrarian urbanism is a society involved with the growing of food." America abounds with intentional communities, he pointed out -- golf course communities, equestrian ones, even the fly-in kind. So why not build one for locavores? And they can have as much land as they like -- it's just that they would have gardens instead of yards, or community gardens and window boxes if they choose to live in an apartment. Their commitment to "hand-tended agriculture" would be part of their legally binding agreement with the homeowners' association. "You design your own utopia," he said. Instead of a strip mall in the town square, there's a "market square" comprised of green markets, restaurants, cooking schools, an agricultural university, and so on. "This thing pushes buttons like mad," he said. "The excitement this triggers -- they get as excited about this as they did in the old days about the porch and the walkable community."

:: Agricultural Transect - image via Fast Company

I particularly enjoy the idea of writing this into the CC+R's of a community (above underlined passage) a sort of 'thou shall farm' edict that allows you to design your own utopia, as long as it fits within certain cultural and community expectations as defined and dictated those in power.  Is this the small-scale version of hobby-farming to the suburban masses - because it isn't really a model of truly 'urban' development?


Another, from Houston Tomorrow, sums up a recent presentation on 'Agricultural Urbanism: Transects & Food Production' with a focus on the recent NU-inspired Southlands project in BC .  Picking up the thread of CNU18, Kunstler shows he may be on board, quoted  on Clusterfuck Nation echoing the need for this return to the farm as also a response to impeding climate change related disruption. (underlined quote mine)

"Among other things, the most forward-looking leaders in the New Urbanist movement now recognize that we have to reorganize the landscape for local food production, because industrial agriculture will be one of the prime victims of our oil predicament. The successful places in the future will be places that have a meaningful relationship with growing food close to home. The crisis in agriculture is looming right now -- with world grain reserves at their lowest level ever recorded in modern times -- and when it really does hit, the harvestmen of famine and death will be in the front ranks of it."

The Houston article links to the long presentation by Duany about the topic, via YouTube - although I haven't had a spare two hours to check it out yet... anyone will to summarize, let me know.

For some related content, one must delve into the interesting concept of CPULs.  Also check out the project 'Garden Block' project by Daniel Nairn, which has garnered praise for it's plausibility from Smart Growth advocates like Kaid Benfield ('Agricultural Urbanism that actually is urban') who have been critical of some urban agriculture proposals.  As an object of defined spatial arrangement incorporating density and agriculture - it seems to work for this block (one that would attract some, but not all urban agrarians).  I expect and desire more models, both the practical to the sublime, from NU/LU/EU and other 'U's - investigating codified solutions and abstract indeterministic ones - giving plenty of fodder for discussion on the future of food in the city.

:: image via Grist

The question of this not just as a site or district image, but as it relates to the overall structure of how we plan and shape cities - is a much larger question indeed.  Looking at utopian precedents, and site specific examples, we have opportunities for not just the physical integration of agriculture into cities, but a clear picture, good and bad, of what some of the consequences may be. 

New York City's Amphibious Heritage

Via the always interesting Strange Maps, a utopian proposal from the early 20th Century for New York City with current parallels of either the practical Dutch examples of land reclamation or the ridiculous Dubai examples of artificial islands.  Immediately making me think of Robert Grosvenor proposal for 'Floating Manhattan' - This 1911 proposal by Dr. T. Kennard Thompson entitled 'A Really Greater New York' poses a large scale land reclamation of New York and the surrounding areas - adding 50 square miles of land to the metropolitan area.

:: image via Strange Maps

Some additional explanation:

"...proposed to expand New York into its adjacent waters for a grand total of 50 square miles. Thomson was neither a lightweight nor a crackpot. As a consulting engineer and urban planner for the City of New York, he had been involved in the construction of numerous bridges and over 20 of New York's early skyscrapers, specialising in their foundations, designing pneumatic caissons. It was the versatility of these caissons that would lead Dr Thomson to envisage a much wider application for them. In August of 1916, he wrote an article in Popular Science, advocating 'A Really Greater New York'."

For a full picture of the concept, check out the full post, but in a nutshell, my favorite part was the new proboscis attached to the end of Manhattan ('New Manhattan') - retaining a New York/New Jersey split.  Think of the cost-benefit of this (ecosystem health and environmental impact aside) were it built 100 years ago.

:: image via Strange Maps

This isn't to say that Manhattan, and many other cities around the world haven't expanded their footprint in less dramatic ways through landfilling, edging slowly into the adjacent lands.  Is it such a crazy proposition, thinking of the value of land in Manhattan and other densely developed (and land-locked) cities, is it such as strange idea?  Boston is a great example of a city built on fill, not by spreading inland,  but by capturing significant amounts of land within the Charles River basin and Harbor areas.

:: image via Crusoe Graphics

Or instead of giving this over to building, how about restoration of the areas where we've destroyed the margins through industrialization.  We could add, through land-filling, wide vegetated buffers for open space and restoration of coastal ecosystems engineered specifically for recreation, habitat, and riparian health - strips for phytoremediation between city and river - buffers for us and to remedy or ills.  While difficult to generate using existing built up edge conditions, this new process of reclamation of riparian corridors, although artificial (a la P-REX), would be a hybrid ecology that may work versus a traditional, reactive, natural methodology.

:: image via Als Dream Journal

Island Life

Greetings from sunny, partly cloudy Friday Harbor, where we are taking some late summer refuge from the urban areas of Portland.



Life on the San Juan Islands gives one an opportunity to relax and live a more confined life -because you are literally confined with access either via plane, boat, or car (via ferry)... the preferred choice of the island hopper.



The cycles become less about mass transit and 9 to 5 than the lead time to queue for the ferries heading to the mainland or other islands. The concept of hurry up and wait is no more evident in these cycles of escape. The lifeline becomes a schedule (and in our time of modern technological wizardry), the simple web ferry cam to give you an 'oh, not a problem' to a 'we're screwed' reaction, even before arrival. The open lanes mean freedom, but also a wait after the car is firmly planted in the lineup and you have an hour or two to kill.



While anywhere new, but especially in something more isolated, the origins of how a place came to be are often at the forefront. What drew folks to these islands, aside from solitude? A quick history lesson in this case reveals the obvious, fishing, at the forefront of industry. Still practiced (as seen from the purse seiner below pulling record numbers of King Salmon this season). This has alas become more of a secondary industry now.



Much like the canneries that were the major industry (along with Limestone quarries and lime kilns, and farming, which seems productive if indicative of the weekly farmer's market and the San Juan Islands Agricultural Guild). Some are still persistent but mostly idle, either post-industrial remnants or transformed into post-modern shopping experiences or interpretive exhibits. This view from our rental across a lagoon is stunning and remote enough to be less tourist-friendly... working now as a boat launch and fishing beach.



The main industry now being tourism, as seen on a idyllic coastal downtown (right up from the ferry terminal) which has that neo-traditional charm of a CNU wet-dream with a number of seasonal shops and restaurants that I imagine rely heavily on the holiday and weekend droves of tourists coming for escape.



Is it about new experiences or quiet. Perhaps both, and things that take you away from the typical cycles of life. A chance to learn about the infamous 'Pig War' of 1859' in sharp contrast to 'War Pigs' from 1970, dine on hyper-local seafood you may have seen being caught, or just to sit on a deck overlooking a not-so distant view of Canada.



:: War Pigs - image via Wikipedia

Alas, even seeing a breaching Orca from 150 yards quickly shifts from high-drama to 'wow, another whale' after a couple of hours. Amazing how we must continually look for greater and great stimulation to tantalize... perhaps our fascinating, as we've all commented this weekend, on electronic gizmos to entertain.



On this whale watching trip, no fewer than half of the passengers sat starting at blackberries, sleeping, or shooting rapidfire with overly expensive cameras, versus just soaking it in. All this as we zoomed through an amazing history lesson akin to the Island of Dr. Moreau (or more likely a precursor to the modern Jurassic Park) on Spieden Island (now owned by the owner of Oakley), where in the island was stocked with wildlife for big-game hunting Safari. Via the Seattle Times:

"It's a modern tale that began in 1969, when a group of investors bought this uninhabited 556-acre, three-mile-long island and stocked it with hundreds of grazing animals and nearly 2,000 game birds from around the world and renamed it "Safari Island." Hunters paid to visit and shoot everything from Asian fallow deer to African guinea fowl... Several species of exotic animals have thrived in the 22 years since hunting was stopped. Today, the more than 500 European Sika deer, Asian Fallow deer and Corsican Big Horn sheep are part of what makes the island special."

Spotting them on our island drive by was perhaps more interesting than the Orcas - although not to the majority of our fellow travelers, who had tunnel vision on seeing one thing and could care less for the journey.


:: Moufflon Sheep - image via Five Star Whale Watching

In the spirit of the fallow deer and corsican big horns, we always seem to adapt to whatever is put in front of us - maybe because we aren't staring at a screen or from behind a lens as life moves past? Perhaps, as I chill on a lazy Sunday, it's time to reconnect with the slow life... and not worry about catching that ferry or check that email. It's about as anti-urban as you can possibly get and perfect timing. Back here soon with more posts... cheers.


(all images (c) Jason King - unless otherwise noted)

Working the Line

My current (re)fascination with the Center for Land Use Interpretation involves getting up to date on their latest events (as well as tearing through their bookstore and grabbing some gems to dig through - reviews/info coming soon). A recent announcement caught my eye.



The ideas of margins and borders is constantly fascinating, along with the markings we do to delineate these in physical space, so one I wish I could travel for is from 'independent interpreter'... "David Taylor's project "Working the Line" documents 276 obelisks, installed between the years 1892 and 1895, that mark the U.S./Mexico boundary from El Paso/Juarez to San Diego/ Tijuana"

Those in proximity should check it out...

Urban Topographies

From Urban Omnibus, Linda Pollak's simple 'Cuts & Patches' explores remnant disturbances within the urban environment as 'topographies' (which more often than not tend to be coal chute covers from a long-gone infrastructure). Check out the great photos and interview.


:: image via Urban Omnibus

"As traces, these cuts and patches allow us to perceive physical and social dynamics of an urban site over time. Looking at them together, they are like a kind of archaeology without physical excavation: they register different eras of construction and settlement, the movement of water, the movement of pedestrians."

:: image via Urban Omnibus

Cartographic Rectification

A recent post at the Fresh Kills Park Blog showed the beauty and function of the process of map rectification in GIS, where a map and image can be combined by matching ground control points in the mapping system to points in the image. As it may be well known, I'm constantly fascinated by historic maps as a tool for understanding and creating modern moves in cities, and recently I expressed a desire to do this with a series of Portland maps.


:: image via Fresh Kills Park Blog

These maps aren't 100% accurate, as they rely on consistent base points to align common map features, and often lack in accuracy - but do provide a great overview of layers of history. An indication of the product is shown on the FKP site - a rectified map of the landfill site (above): "A 1907 map of the Fresh Kills area helped us understand a little more clearly the extent of filling in creeks and wetlands, and also the sense of private ownership that this land did, in fact, enjoy prior to the start of landfill operations–the entire site was entirely carved up into privately owned parcels."

In this case, it isn't a particularly unattainable venture, thanks to the New York Public Library beta version of their map rectifying tool (aka Warper) online: "...that allows users to digitally align or “rectify” historical maps from the NYPL collection with today’s maps and aerial photos. You can browse previously rectified maps or sign-up for an account to align your own and add it to the browse-able archive"

Check out a short video of the tool:


These processes bring to mind of course the wonderful Mannahatta Project by Eric Sanderson, which used rectified historical maps to provide a . I just finished devouring the book, so look for a post soon.

Floating Manhattan

Via Ptak Science Books, a proposal to float Manhattan into the adjacent Hudson River and seemingly into the Atlantic. "Robert Grosvenor had a delectable and memorable idea for a project in 1975: testing the sea-worthiness of Manhattan island. Grosvenor (b. 1937) was a well-known kinetic sculptor in Manhattan by the time of his detaching-Manhattan idea... "


:: image via Ptak

The project is somewhat satirical, and shown in some of the graphic play to reinforce the specifics of the proposal. More from Ptak: "I do though like the simplicity of the presentation of the project, right down to the "Step 2" of preparation, which was the umbilical snipping of the bedrock of Manhattan and the attachment of the "flotation collar", which, I guess, would allow it to be moved around so long as flotation devices were attached. "


:: image via Ptak

The project comes from what sounds like a fascinating book Unbuilt America, by Alison Sky and Michelle Stone -shows plans of buildings and monuments, that were planned but never built, throughout the first two centuries of the history of the United States. Thanks to @SpaceSyntaxGirl for the heads up on this one!

Historic Depave Portland

As previously mentioned, the main drag along the Willamette was formerly a multi-lane highway named Harbor Drive, which was removed in the mid-1970's to make way for the current resident along the river, Tom McCall Waterfront Park.


:: image via Portland Mercury


:: image via Flickr - William200549

Text, from the article 'The Dead Freeway Society' in the Portland Mercury, outlines this paradigm shift in a decade from planning massive expansion to promotion of removal:

"The first freeway to dissolve was Harbor Drive. Built in 1942, the wide slab of asphalt ran over what is today Tom McCall Waterfront Park, now where tourists and idyllic children roam with ice cream, Barack Obama spoke, and once a year the Oregon Symphony shoots live cannons in a performance of the 1812 Overture. In the '50s and '60s, the freeway, streaming with big-finned cars, was featured on postcards promoting a modern Portland. By 1975, it was gone.

"There was a shift in local government in the late-'60s. It went from a good-old-boy network to a much younger generation of politicians," explains Ballestrem. Urban planning historian Gregory L. Thompson wrote that when one young politician arrived in Portland in 1973, the politico noted that everyone had a copy of anti-freeway handbook Rites of Way tucked into their hip pocket.

When the state began buying up land next to Harbor Drive to widen the waterfront freeway in 1968, a citizen alliance against the expansion found open ears at city hall and the governor's office. Old-school traffic engineers said closing the freeway would be a disaster, but Governor Tom McCall, Mayor Neil Goldschmidt, and County Commissioner Don Clark heard the citizens' opinion that most car traffic could be rerouted to the city's newly built freeways, like the I-5. Throughout the summer of '69, Portlanders organized "consciousness-raising picnics" to rally people against Harbor Drive. Three years later, a governor's task force declared that the low-traffic, 30-year-old road should be ripped out and replaced with a park."

While not one of the stellar park spaces in town, the park really acts as a front yard to downtown, and is also a major pedestrian throughfare, as well as a consistent field for festivals throughout the summer.


:: image via Friends for our Riverfront


:: image via Portland Ground


:: image via uyau

The results aren't half-bad for a former highway.

Ghost Highway: Mount Hood Freeway

It's fascinating to dig into some of the historical legacies that have existed throughout planning over time. Some seem like missed opportunities - while others show that perhaps sometimes cooler heads will prevail, and we think of the awfulness of what might have been. Nowhere in Portland's planning history is this more evident than the thankfully unbuilt Mount Hood Freeway, which would have literally chopped to bits the inner east side in the mid 1960s with a network of high capacity roadways.



It's also interesting to see the genesis of this idea, from none other than the infamous Robert Moses. From the Permatopia site on Dead Highways: "This map from the Portland Planning Division's 1966 development plan illustrates Robert Moses' vision for a city girdled by freeways. Red indicates existing freeways; green indicates freeways that were never built."


:: image via Willamette Week

From some older coverage on the WW site: "The story of the freeway's demise is a tale of urban America after World War II and a lesson in what distinguishes Portland from other West Coast cities. It gave us strong neighborhoods, proud schools and MAX. It cemented the region's commitment to ecology and the reputation of a brilliant political leader. The murder not only saved 1,750 households in Southeast Portland from the wrecking ball, it also established Portland's philosophy of urban livability-the idea that cities are for people, not just for commerce and cars."

It may be difficult to comprehend, but the slice of the Mount Hood Freeway would have edge along was is currently Clinton Street, one of the hip neighborhood commercial pocket in southeast. An portion of a map shows the dashed line slicing down this street.


:: image via Permatopia

And a view down current Clinton Street @ 26th:


:: image via Portlandize

Taking a cue from the planning wisdom at the time, Moses planned Portland for auto-dominated greatness. From the Portland Mercury:

"Sixty-six Septembers ago, a Portland city commissioner invited the powerful (and, these days, infamous) transportation planner Robert Moses to come to Rose City and write its road construction plan. Moses, a freeway mogul whose most lasting legacy is the massive byways slicing apart New York's boroughs, brought a team of men and holed up for two months in a downtown hotel. After exploring the city and crunching numbers, the men whipped up an 86-page blueprint for Portland's future.

It was in this plan that Portland was first divided by the inky lines that would eventually become I-205, I-84, I-5, I-405, and Highway 26. It was Moses' men who first drew the Fremont Bridge onto a photo of Portland. In white ink, they imagined the freeway to be a suspension bridge running across the river and down into the current Overlook neighborhood. But they also imagined a lot more.

To modernize and meet the demands of a growing economy and expanding population, back in 1943 Moses argued that Portland must surround itself with freeways—an inner ring carrying traffic through the city with another freeway ring encircling its outer limits."

The other part of the legacy that is visible is the dead end off- and on-ramps that show up along many of the stems of this future highway system... a reminder of what might have been.


:: image via Portland Mercury

More of this legacy: "People can drive past on Division or Clinton streets every day and never know it’s there. Indeed, it wouldn’t be there at all, if supporters of the Mount Hood Freeway had had their way. The diminutive Piccolo Park (Southeast 28th Avenue between Division and Clinton streets, 503-823-7529) cuts a grassy swath through a residential block. The land was acquired by the state in the 1970s for a freeway, which would have roared through this historic neighborhood, but the freeway planning faltered and in 1989 the parcel was turned into a charming city park."

If the benefits aren't obvious, a video from Streetfilms highlights the result, in a study on the neighborhood left behind, versus that which was destroyed through freeway expansions. "Clarence Eckerson Jr., takes us to Portland to see the results and posits that his own neighborhood in Brooklyn might have benefited from similar forethought during the planning phase of the Robert Moses-designed Brooklyn-Queens Expressway."

Historic Portland Maps: 1866 Portland Map

The last in this particular era of maps, this survey map highlights the tracing of ‘disappeared streams’ throughout the urban area, which requires research and layering of a number of historical maps onto the modern urban form. One map that has some interesting waterways is a Map of the City of Portland, Surveyed and drawn by order of the Common Council, By C.W. Burrage, City Surveyor, 1866.



This map traces a detailed route of Tanner Creek, the waterway that meandered through modern-day Downtown and Pearl District, through the Northwest Industrial area that was occupied by Couch Lake. The ‘lake’ which was mostly a fen, or wetland, is located in a parcel (marked J.H. Couch), but the boundaries are not delineated. There are some other maps that exist showing the boundaries, which will be layered in as well.



Another interesting waterway is along the east bank, originating in at the intersection of B & C Streets, at 5th Street. The modern location of this would be around the outfall of Sullivan’s Gulch (around the I-84/I-5 connection)… the forked creek meanders through the Central Eastside area, outletting at the Water Street at ‘J’ Street (presently Water at Oak – along the Eastbank Esplanade).



The other interesting feature was the location of the Lunatic Asylum Grounds in Southeast Portland. The location of this facility is somewhere between Ladd’s Addition and the Central Eastside Industrial District… showing that SE has always been the locus of the ‘Keep Portland Wierd’ idea.

Historic Portland Maps: 1852 Cadastral Maps

Probably the most detailed and broad ranging of these early maps are from the collection from the Public Land Survey System (or Cadastral Maps). These were generated throughout the 1850s in the Portland metro region, with the main portion of Portland encompassed in two maps, which were obviously the base material for the 1852 Survey Map, as it contains much of the same data.





Zooming in a bit on the area of current downtown Portland, we see the nascent grid forming along 'The Clearing', and see the edge of the Tualatin Mountains (West Hills) to the west, even a trail leading toward Beaverton through a slot in the Canyon where Highway 26 west (Sunset Highway) runs. On the east side of the river is the lowland marsh and streams that were subsequently filled to create the Central Eastside Industrial area. Within the Willamette River to the south, Ross Island is intact, well before the constant sand and gravel mining operations left it a ribbon of it's former self.



The detail is pretty awesome, as you really get a feel for some of the drainages that existed, still in visible dendritic forms making sub-watersheds. This section also shows the routing of a 'road' that connected to Milwaukie and Tualatin to the south.



The northern section captures the upper reaches of Downtown, as well as the current Pearl district and Northwest Industrial Zone. Closer to downtown, the original routing of Tanner Creek is made evident by it's headwaters at the 'Tannery' adjacent to the road to the Tualatin Plains. This fed Couch Lake, a wetland adjacent to the Willamette that is currently the location of Tanner Springs Park, a metaphorical daylighting of this lowland. Finally, in the pre-bridge era, the location of ferry crossings connecting east and west are shown



Another notable items on the upper west includes Guilds Lake, a significant water body that was the site of the 1905 Lewis and Clark Exposition, designed by Frederick Law Olmsted - which was later filled to create flat industrial land as it exists today.


:: image via Portland History

Taking a closer look at the northernmost section you see the level of detail shown in the marshy edge of the Columbia River called on the map 'Columbia Bayou' and some of the earliest low-density riverfront inhabitation.



I really love this map for many reasons, but the fact that it is referenced to the township, section, range mapping convention, making it easy to use as an underlayment for modern mapping to show a pre-development (or at least early development snapshot of Portland context). It also shows a relatively wide span of the region, making it useful beyond the boundaries of Portland.

I have created a few of these maps over the years which I will post when I get a chance). My ultimate goal is to reconcile these into a graphical layer in GIS that can be used for mapping analyses... any grad students out there want a project? (Find many of these maps from this post and the previous ones at the great City of Portland Publications and Maps Page)

Historic Portland Maps: 1852 Downtown Survey

A focused companion in the same vintage as the 1852 Survey Map (which includes the entire city area) comes from the early Portland 1852 Downtown Survey, a more detailed account encompassing the downtown area adjacent to the Willamette River (oriented with north to the right). One interesting pattern is the street grid running right into the waterfront – as the river was the hub of commerce and building hung right over the water. As the city evolved this interface with the river lefts some interesting patterns which became a highway, and eventually the current Waterfront Park.



A couple of early creek corridors are shown on the south portion of downtown, originating at SW Jefferson Street and winding down SW Columbia to 3rd. There’s another stream originating from Mill Street and continuing southward. I've been mesmerized for years with the idea of these 'disappeared streams' that were later buried under the developed downtown grid.



And the form that continues through of the park blocks, in this form continuing from SW Clay to SW Stark. This is a pattern of park blocks that continues north and south as shown in the 1866 Map (look for this in an upcoming post). I’m curious where in the development pattern the North and South Park blocks were severed.