I had to go to the Japanese Gardens in Portland, Oregon. This little bit of unfinished business from my last trip here thirty years ago was the one item firmly established on my agenda for this trip. But there is no easy way to get there; this is probably why I never made it on the last trip.

Given my planned departure time, the Portland public transit Web site recommends that I take the light rail and then walk somewhere to connect to a bus that runs only once an hour. A bit more research on this Web site reveals that I could leave later, walk a little farther south downtown, and with careful time coordination hop the bus to begin with, thereby avoiding the transfer.

The return is a bit trickier because the bus will wind all through the very large Washington Park and take half an hour longer to get back downtown than it took coming out. Also, I again have to worry about the timing. Or perhaps I could walk from the Japanese Gardens to the light rail station on the other side of the park. This doesn’t look close, but it’s hard to tell from the map on the transit Web site just how far it is and what would be involved. I decide to deal with the return trip later. I time my departure so that after only a short wait I board the bus for Washington Park.

The Japanese Gardens are truly wonderful (see my previous blog post). As I leave, I ask the admissions attendant whether it’s possible to walk from there to the light rail station. Yes, she answers, sounding a bit surprised. This is apparently not a common question. There’s a dirt hiking trail, she tells me. It starts right by their driveway and winds for two miles through the woods, ending near the station. She offers me a trail map.

Two miles! Alone in the woods! And clearly these are very rough and hilly woods at that. I’m not sure about this, but I thank her and take the map. While visiting the Rose Gardens down the hill, I mull over my options. Even at this time of year, many of the roses are in bloom. They are very pretty, but visiting this garden doesn’t take much time.

Return trip decision time is now at hand. I climb up as far as the bus stop. The next bus should come by in just ten or twelve minutes. But, having gone to all the trouble to get here, it seems a shame to leave so quickly, so… definitively.

I opt for the two-mile hike.

I climb back up to the Japanese garden and find the start of the trail. Five minutes into the walk I begin to worry. Should I be afraid of encountering strangers along the way? I have no idea whether this park is infamous for muggings and worse, or not. Or should I be afraid of *not* encountering anyone? What if I slip and fall, all alone? What if I get lost?

It takes another five minutes to dismiss these considerations. The woods are beautiful. I am competent. A few people do come by, just a few, and they are as friendly as other Oregonians have been. I relax into the rhythm of walking. The trail is well marked. Not only am I not lost but I can actually follow my progress on the trail map.

Forty minutes into my hike the territory that has come to feel familiar to me explodes into surprise: Here is a trail branching off that is not on the map! And just down the trail, a sign: I have entered an arboretum! The sign recommends visiting the “Maple Grove” in autumn, and so I do.

I sketch the maple grove onto its blank area on my trail map, and I draw in the trails through the arboretum as well.

In the maple grove, two women are coming up the trail toward me. “Excuse me,” one of them asks, “is this the way toward the Japanese Gardens?”

I am pleased to be able to tell them that it is, and exactly which trails and turns they should follow, and how long it will take. I have been transformed into an expert.

In less than ten minutes, I reach the light rail station. I am a different person than the one who set out this morning. I have become a competent old-hand solo Washington-Park hiker.