Portland's Local Favorites

Walter Powell, a retired painting contractor, opened a used bookstore in 1971 after working a summer at his son Michael's Chicago shop. In 1979, Walter lost his lease; within a year, Michael joined him in Portland and they found the current location. It's 68,000 square feet—1.6 acres—of new and used books mixed together across nine color-coded rooms. Customers navigate with maps. The Gold Room has the rare books. Now run by Emily Powell, Michael's daughter. The world's largest independent bookstore, where people get lost on purpose.

Professor Takuma Tono designed this garden with five distinct styles spanning Japanese garden history—unusual, since most Japanese gardens follow a single tradition. Construction began in 1963, opened to the public in 1967. In 1988, Ambassador Matsunaga called it "the most beautiful and authentic Japanese garden in the world outside of Japan." The walk up through Washington Park earns the admission price before you even arrive.

Over 5,200 acres of urban forest—one of the largest within U.S. city limits. The Wildwood Trail runs 30 miles through it. Old-growth Douglas firs tower over fern understory. You can be deep in the woods within 10 minutes of downtown gridlock, which makes Portland's property values and existential smugness slightly more defensible.

Oregon's tallest waterfall at 620 feet, 30 miles east of Portland. Over 2 million annual visitors make it the Pacific Northwest's most-visited natural site. The 1914 Benson Bridge—a 45-foot reinforced-concrete arch built by Simon Benson's Pacific Bridge Company—crosses 105 feet above the lower cascade. Lewis and Clark noted it in 1805. Benson developed the area in the 1920s with a lodge, pathways, and the iconic bridge. The hike to the top is 1.2 miles of switchbacks. Go early or accept the crowds.

Sixty-five artisans from Suzhou lived in Portland for nine months in 1999-2000, building this Ming Dynasty-style garden by hand. They shipped 500 tons of stone and taihu rock from China. Cost $12.8 million. Opened September 14, 2000, as a sister-city project with Suzhou. The name means "Garden of Awakening Orchids." The teahouse serves traditional Chinese tea overlooking rockwork that took centuries to weather into the proper shapes.

A corridor that embodies Portland's gentrification better than any think piece ever could. Once a refuge for Black families displaced by 1948 flooding, this neighborhood saw its Black population drop from 60% in 1990 to under 10% by 2020. Now it's boutiques, coffee shops, and $8 toast. The independent businesses are genuinely good. The history is genuinely uncomfortable. Both things are true.

Portland's underground tunnel system connecting basements to the Willamette waterfront, allegedly used to kidnap drunk men and press them into naval service—"shanghaiing." How much is true? Unclear. Old Town Pizza operates above part of the network and offers tours. The tunnels existed for legitimate freight movement. The shanghaiing stories might be exaggerated folklore. Either way, the basement is legitimately creepy, the pizza is solid, and the ghost tour leans hard into the mythology.

America's oldest tofu shop, opened 1911 by the Ota brothers from Okayama, Japan. During WWII, co-owner Saizo Ohta was sent to Minidoka internment camp in Idaho, where he died at 61 from hypertension complications. His landlord kept the equipment for his widow. Shina Ohta returned in summer 1945 and reopened the shop. It still makes tofu by hand daily, now run by the Ogata family. You can buy fresh blocks for $3-5 and pretend the century-old tragedy doesn't make the simplicity devastating.

The only dedicated hat museum in America, housed in the 1910 Ladd-Reingold House—originally owned by a Russian-trained milliner. Over 2,300 hats on display (thousands more in storage): vintage collections, men's fedoras, novelty pieces, international specimens, designer works by Otto Lucas and Lilly Dache. Started by Portland author Alyce Selby in 2005, now run by her friend LuAnn Trotebas. Book weeks ahead. The appointment-only model ensures you get a guided tour from someone who genuinely cares about crown construction and brim angles.

A 30,000-square-foot temple to architectural salvage occupying the 1921 Cromwell Tailors building. Owners Steven Miller and Stephen Oppenheim dismantled 72 houses in a single summer. Light fixtures from the demolished Portland Hotel. Toilets from old City Hall. Doorknobs from the Central Library. And everywhere—hundreds of hippopotamus figurines, because why not. Chuck Palahniuk called it an icon. The exterior columns wear togas. It's the fancy junk store Portland deserves.

Botanist Lilla Leach and her pharmacist husband John bought 4 acres on Johnson Creek in 1932 and called it "Sleepy Hollow." Over nine summers exploring the Siskiyou Mountains, Lilla discovered five plant species unknown to western science—including Kalmiopsis leachiana, which grows only in serpentine soil and later convinced the Forest Service to create a wilderness area. She won the first Eloise Payne Luquer medal in 1950. The Leaches donated their 17-acre garden to Portland in 1980. Now it has an aerial tree walk and pollinator gardens, quietly excellent, far from downtown.