Author Archives: kelsey, etc.

Project Life 2026: April ephemera

Here are the scraps of ephemera I saved in April.

A 6-inch by 8-inch page protector divided into 12 two-inch by two-inch pockets. Each pocket hold a piece of ephemera from my life in April 2026, as enumerated in the bulleted lists in the body of the post.

Top row

  • Piece of postcard advertising PIPEX 2026
  • Red Robin sticker from a takeout order
  • “WAR IS NOT THE ANSWER” sticker found in the street

Second row

  • Flower found on the sidewalk during a walk
  • Items found on the sidewalk during different walks
  • Street sticker found on the sidewalk during a walk
Back of a 6-inch by 8-inch page protector divided into 12 two-inch by two-inch pockets. Each pocket hold a piece of ephemera from my life in April 2026, as enumerated in the bulleted lists in the body of the post.

Third row

Bottom row

  • Scraps from a current work in progress
  • Label from a photo order for another work in progress
  • Corner from the box of Artemis II launch-day doughnuts from Krispy Kreme

What I’m working on: April 2026

As always, I have approximately one billion projects in various states of progress going on over here, and at least thrice as many ideas and plans and concepts of plans ricocheting around in my head. Four things I’m working on (and excited about!) right now:

PDX Correspondence Cooperative “stamps”

The PDX Correspondence Cooperative meets once a month at one of my favorite stores in Portland. Last month, I attended for the first time. I was nervous to go, and I’m glad I did. I met so many creative, crafty people; it was a lot of fun. Once you attend two meetups, you’re eligible to receive a handmade “passport.” At the end of each month’s meetup, attendees trades “stamps” to adhere in their “passport.” The “stamps” can be anything—stickers, little drawings, pressed flowers sealed between strips of tape, actual stamps, etc. For my first “stamp,” which I’ll hand out at the April meetup tomorrow evening (!), I used a postage stamp-shaped paper punch to make “stamps” of security envelope patterns from duplicates in my collection. I love them so much.

Pinback buttons

During the great pinback button blitz of 2026, I decided I wanted to make my own pinback buttons. After some quick googling and youtubing, I learned (1) it’s a very easy process, and (2) there are two places in town that have the required equipment and materials, available to the public for use: the Beaverton Library’s Makerspace, and the IPRC. Because I am impatient and the IPRC is much closer to me than is the Beaverton Library, I used their button maker. I love how all my test buttons turned out and have been completely captured by this new crafty hyperfixation. More to follow in a future post.

Project Life 2026

For the first time in several years, I’ve begun my yearly Project Life album in January (!!) and’ve stayed current with it (!!). Two miracles. I plan to share some of my pages documenting January through March in the next week or two—whenever the sun comes out during the right part of the day and for long enough for me to take some decent photos of said pages.

A spread in my 2026 Project Life album featuring flowers, a dressing room selfie, the book "The Road to Tender Hearts," a screenshot of the map I made showing all the photo booths in Portland, a package I sent to my kids for Valentine's Day, a screenshot of an email from Etsy congratulating me on my first sale, a photo of me from behind, hanging on the rig, with my back muscles poppin', and a journaling card that details some of the photos in the spread.

Project Life 101

I’ve been working on a “what is Project Life and what do I need to get started?” post and it’s finally almost ready to share. Project Life is my favorite way to document my life. It makes me sad that so many brands and shops that made and sold Project Life supplies have closed, and that so many people have either drastically cut back on using this memorykeeping approach or altogether stopped using it. I’m excited to share my post about this hobby that I love so dearly; I hope it inspires even just one person to give it a go.

Swedish death cleaning

Back in November, Pinterest successfully influenced me into Swedish death cleaning several decades early by placing in my feed a single pin related to the practice at exactly the time I began outlining a plan for a hypothetical move that I might be able to make in two to three years. Perfect timing! Why not turn a traditionally end-of-life decluttering practice into a mid-life, possible pre-move decluttering project? And why not get as much decluttering done as I could before the new year and start 2026 extra light and fresh? Four-ish months later, I’m finally and officially done (“done”).

I don’t own a ton of stuff to begin with (visual busyness and clutter easily overwhelm me (autism)), and I’m a pretty organized person by nature (also autism), so the project didn’t feel daunting to me. Still, my son and I definitely had extra stuff, and a few things would benefit from improved organization. The project took me longer to complete than I would’ve liked, mostly because (1) I didn’t have many spoons or much space to go through things; leaving things out to go through them here and there wasn’t an option because of how dysregulating visual busyness and clutter are to my nervous system, and because of how small my apartment is; and (2) I was committed to how I got rid of things.

To start, I made a list in my phone of the stuff I wanted to get rid of. Then, I organized the list by items that could be rehomed, those that could be recycled, and those that had to be thrown out.

Anything that could be rehomed, I either gifted to friends or my daughter, set out in free boxes, or donated to places and organizations that redistribute items directly to people who need them for free (as a rule, I will not donate to organizations that turn around and sell donations). For example, I donated clothing and small household items to the Portland Free Store; I donated books and unused stationery and paper items (planners, notebooks, greeting cards, etc.) to various Little Free Libraries in my neighborhood; I donated old magazines and various memorykeeping and craft supplies that I’ve had in my collection forever and won’t ever use to SCRAP PDX; I donated extra hygiene items to the mutual aid lockers at Always Here Bookstore; and I donated food that we wouldn’t eat before it’s sell/best by date to my neighbors and various free pantries in my neighborhood.

Photo of the mutual aid lockers at Always Here Bookstore in Portland, Oregon. There are lockers holding various items free to anyone in need, including hygiene items, COVID tests and masks, menstrual products, safer sex and contraceptive products, cosmetics, and socks and underwear.

Anything that could be recycled, I recycled rather than threw out. For example, I recycled old electronics and cords, pens, ink cartridges, etc., at Staples through their recycling service; I recycled stained or otherwise damaged clothing, bedding, and other textiles via Just Porch It; and I recycled old paint through my county’s hazardous waste disposal program. Thankfully, all of these programs are free where I live.

I had three items that weren’t free to recycle: two laptops and one very old and very slow 27″ iMac, which I loved and was sad to let go of. Because these items had personal data on them, I took them to an electronics recycler who removed all three hard drives, destroyed two of them, and, at my request, gave me back the other one. All in all, it cost me $37. I also paid about $5 to have a huge stack of papers shredded at Staples.

An in-progress photo of the hard drive being removed from my old 27" iMac and given back to me before the rest of the components were recycled.

I do realize that paring down possessions years before a possible move is a little…ambitious. Consider: Starting now affords me time to think about what I want to do with items I’m undecided about without feeling rushed into a decision it’s more likely than un- that I’ll regret (I say this from experience, as someone who has moved long distances several times).

In addition to paring down my possessions, I used this project as an opportunity to better organize some of my paper items, and some of the stuff we keep in storage. For example, I better organized my product manuals, which I keep in plastic sleeves in a binder, by grouping them by room instead of by type; I went through a stack of things my kids have made for me and organized them by child and approximate year; and I bought a large zippered bag (with handles!!) to store all the signs and posters from art builds, rallies, protests, and other direct actions I’ve participated in.

Photo of a very large mesh bag full of protest signs of various sizes.

Initially, I considered buying a large, flat box with a lid that opens up (like this) for these items since for now I store them under my bed. Then I learned how much large, flat boxes with a lid that opens up cost (hello???) and decided to look for other options. I’m happy with this one. It achieves my original goal—it easily stores under my bed—and has the added bonuses of being much more affordable, much easier to carry than a giant box, and, unlike a cardboard box, rain-resistant, which could come in handy during a move.

In general, I don’t like to store stuff. I don’t even like having my kitchen cabinets or the sections of my TV stand (etc.) full (or anything under my bed!). It stresses me out when every space in a home is crammed with stuff, even when it’s behind a closed door or in a drawer (or under a bed!). For better or worse, “out of sight, out of mind” is not a thing for me.

Ideally, I’d keep only seasonal and occasionally used items in storage. Christmas decorations, suitcases, painting supplies, things of that nature. Because my apartment isn’t big enough for all of my books, or to display most of the memorykeeping albums I’ve made over the years, many of those items are in storage until I move into a larger living space, along with our seasonal items. Thankfully, my rent includes a small storage space in the basement of my building.

I also used this project as an opportunity to better organize the items we do keep in our little basement storage space, and, to no one’s surprise, made a spreadsheet to inventory it all. Whenever we do end up moving, I’ll already know exactly what’s in which storage container, and where each container is located. This information will also be helpful when having to figure out how big of a moving truck or pod we’ll need.

Screenshot of the spreadsheet I made to inventory the items in each storage container and catalog where each storage container is located.

One of the highlights of this project was finding the only three items in my possession that I’ve not been able to place for years. I knew each of these items were somewhere in my apartment, I just didn’t know where. Turns out, they’d fallen into the very bottom of a box—as in: under the bottom flaps inside the box—while moving boxes around when my son moved in with me. It’s kind of a miracle I found them, which happened only because I lifted up the flaps to break down the box for recycling and saw them.

The photo strip is from my first time in a photo booth, the summer I turned twenty-one. RIP to true old school film photo booths.

The concert ticket stub is from the Warped Inside Tour lineup that New Found Glory headlined at the Roseland Theater a billion years ago. The venue itself is upstairs. That night, during one of the opening band’s sets, the floor began to buckle and break and the venue evacuated the building. After what felt like forever we were allowed back inside and the show continued, with New Found Glory playing their set on the ground floor. My friends and I ended up right up front, directly in front of the stage, and I left the show with a set list, given to me by Chad himself.

New Found Glory's set list from their November 2001 Portland, Oregon show: Better Off Dead, All About Her, That Thing You Do, Sincerely, 3rd and Long, Eyesore, Dressed to Kill, Passing Time, Sucker, Vegas, 2s and 3s, Broken Sound, Boy Crazy, Glory of Love, Ballad, Hit or Miss

For the last several years it has been my life’s mission to find this ticket stub so I can have it framed alongside the set list, a photo I took (on a film camera!!) that night, and a sticker I bought from the band’s merch booth. These few things are some of the only physical items remaining from my youth and for that reason alone are some of my most prized possessions. I screamt an actual scream when I found the ticket stub.

I bought the brass crane embroidery scissors at Cargo in 2020 simply because I think they’re pretty—I have no practical purpose for them; I don’t think I’ve ever actually used them—and have missed looking at them since misplacing them a few months after I bought them. I’m happy to have them back at my desk.

Another highlight of this project was looking through and inventorying my newspaper collection. More about that in a future post.

Photo of a bunch of newspapers in a large storage container, and a large stack in a large H&M bag.

If you’re interested in adopting or adapting Swedish death cleaning as your own pre-move or spring cleaning approach, my main suggestions are:

  • Store items in a way that makes sense for you (and your family, if relevant). For me, this means storing like items with like items, and using durable storage containers, most of them clear, that will double as already-packed moving boxes when the time comes.
  • Create an inventory of the items you store. Include information like what containers you’re using, what’s in each container, each container’s dimensions and volume, the location of each container, how full each container is, etc. You might also keep a list of any empty containers you end up with, to help avoid accidentally buying new containers that you don’t need because you forgot you have empty ones waiting to be used. I recommend doing this in a spreadsheet.
  • Label your storage containers, especially your non-clear containers. If keeping a spreadsheet, you might also print each container’s inventory and affix it to the top of the container’s lid or place it inside the container.
  • However long you think the project will take, budget at least twice that amount of time.
  • Dedicate a container to items you’re not sure about. The point isn’t to get rid of everything. The point is to make considered decisions about what to get rid of. It can take time to make those decisions.
  • Store personal keepsakes—anything you don’t want others going through, ever, even after you die (journals, photos, letters, etc.)—in the same container(s) and label the container(s) very clearly as, for example, “personal items, do not go through, throw away without opening when I die.”
  • If you’re interested in rehoming and recycling items similar to how I did, research rehoming and recycling options in your area before you break ground on the project.
  • Also before you break ground on the project: choose a “yay, you did it!” reward to gift to yourself when you complete the project. My reward: supplies for a new craft project.

Project Life 2026: March ephemera

Here are the scraps of ephemera I saved in March.

A 6-inch by 8-inch page protector divided into 12 two-inch by two-inch pockets. Each pocket hold a piece of ephemera from my life in March 2026, as enumerated in the bulleted lists in the body of the post.

Top row

  • Migraine medication blister pack
  • Magpie Vintage business card
  • Rafael stamp, a souvenir from a mail art meetup

Second row

  • Coins and confetti found on the ground throughout the month
  • Portland Art Museum sticker
  • My name written on a scrap of paper by the dance store employee who helped me choose a pair of ballet slippers for the adult beginner ballet class I signed up to take (!!)

Third row

  • Tag from one of the pinback buttons I thrifted in March
  • Dried flowers found during my first evening walk through the neighborhood of the season
  • Packaging from Trader Joe’s Protein Pancake Mix

Bottom row

  • Oil change sticker
  • EKG lead and scrap of Coban wrap from a mid-month trip to the ER (everything’s fine)
  • Two quarters with designs on the back I’d never seen before
Back of a 6-inch by 8-inch page protector divided into 12 two-inch by two-inch pockets. Each pocket hold a piece of ephemera from my life in March 2026, as enumerated in the bulleted lists in the body of the post.

For the love of pinback buttons

Whenever I visit a thrift store, antique shop, or other secondhand marketplace, I always (always!) search every (every!) nook and cranny for pinback buttons. I love them so much. In the early years of the pandemic, I found the best buttons at Monticello. There was a vendor who had a suitcase and glass display case full of vintage ones, and I would spend as long as it took to sift through every single button each time I visited.

Vintage suitcase filled to the brim with vintage pin-back buttons in a variety of colors and sizes, with a variety of phrases on them—not just just political ones!

I officially began my collection for about $10 in September 2021 with a few buttons, all carefully selected from the suitcase pictured above.

Three vintage pin-back buttons in the palm of my hand: a large yellow one with CHEERFULLY CHEAP printed in black text; a regular-sized orange one with I'M A BIGTOY printed in plum text; and a regular-sized white one with I HAVEN'T MADE MY QUOTA printed in green text.

My collection is mostly thrifted, slowish-growing, and still relatively small—only (“only”) 49 buttons. This is partly because, to date, I’ve bought only buttons that I find in person (I’m a tactile shopper) and the vendor who sold the best buttons—and had the largest offering—is no longer selling (sad!). It’s also partly because I venture out specifically with the intent to find new buttons only once or twice a year. As much as I enjoy long and expensive walks through any varietal of secondhand marketplace, they’re social and sensory overload for my brain (and are not in this economy compatible with my bank account), so I don’t visit often.

Yes, being both a tactile shopper and easily overwhelmed by shopping is a frustrating combination. Such is my autistic life. And anyway, visiting such marketplaces for such a specific purpose so infrequently works out fine because the selection of buttons at any one place doesn’t change often.

29 thrifted pinback buttons of various sizes.

The newest additions to my collection, all thrifted locally this past week from Antique Alley, Artifact, Magpie, Memory Den, Monticello, Telephone Vintage, and Tip Top Vintage:

An assortment of 15 thrifted pinback buttons of various sizes.
Three thrifted pinback buttons of two different sizes that read: "THE HIDING PLACE," "WIN," and "DOES IT TICKLE?"

During The Great Pinback Button Blitz of 2026 last week, which nearly doubled my collection overnight (well, over two nights), I also visited Hollywood Vintage, House of Vintage, and Really Good Stuff, all without luck this time. So it goes. The thrill of the hunt is a big part of the draw for me, even as the sensory and social experiences of shopping are absolutely not.

Also in my collection are two buttons I didn’t thrift. I acquired them before I began intentionally collecting them: a “KEEP ABORTION LEGAL” button that I received at a rally/protest I attended at the Supreme Court in 2019, and a souvenir button from the “Spirited Republic: Alcohol in America” exhibition at the National Archives Museum in 2016 (I miss DC so bad!!!).

Two pinback buttons in the palm of my hand that read: "WE WANT BEER" and "KEEP ABORTION LEGAL"

Another reason I love pinback buttons: they make fun magnets. Years before I began collecting vintage ones, I began buying new ones specifically to turn into magnets. All you need is a pair of pliers to remove the wire fastening mechanism, strong glue, and small magnets. I use this glue and these magnets. The magnets are pretty strong, each holding several (literally seven) sheets of (8.5″ x 11″) paper without slippage or slow sliding.

Top half of the front of my fridge filled with pinback buttons I turned into magnets, other novelty magnets, and multiple photo booth photo strips from over the years.

Other magnets in the above photo that I could find links for:

The “i’m autistic please leave me alone” sticker was a freebie included in an order from this shop.

For now, my vintage buttons live in a thrifted bowl on one of my bookshelves. I’d like to eventually display them on a hanging pin organizer—something like this, or this—that I make myself. Until then, I leave you with these fun stamps commemorating the pinback button, the pinback button museum (so fun), and the only button I’ve come across that I really wanted to buy and, sadly, wasn’t for sale.

Large pinback button with a blue background and white text that reads "GOD Does NOT Make Junk!"

For the curious, buttons I have in my collection that are also in the Busy Beaver Button Museum’s collection:

Six pinback buttons that are in both my collection and that of the Busy Beaver Button Museum's.
My entire collection of 49 pinback buttons arranged on a dark grey background.

Project Life 2026: February ephemera

Here are the scraps of ephemera I saved in February.

A 6-inch by 8-inch page protector divided into 12 two-inch by two-inch pockets. Each pocket hold a piece of ephemera from my life in February 2026, as enumerated in the bulleted lists in the body of the post.

Top row

  • Packaging from G2 pen ink refills.
  • Packaging from a Hostess cupcake, a favorite childhood snack.
  • Scrap from a “puzzle history sheet” from the puzzle exchange I’m launching at my gym.

Second row

  • A coin and sticker I found on the floor.
  • Tag from a stuffed animal I gifted one of my kids for Valentine’s Day.
  • Packaging from a favorite Crystal Light flavor.

Third row

  • Price tag from A Room of One’s Own, which I bought in 2017 and (finally) read for the first time in February.
  • Packaging from my weekly Rice Krispie Treat.
  • Label for a new medication.

Bottom row

  • Packaging from another favorite childhood snack (the good news: I finally found a place that sells the individually boxed version; the less good news: they cost $3.69 a piece!!!).
  • Piece of cardboard from a puzzle I had made of a photo I took years ago.
  • Image sheet from a puzzle in my collection. I have no idea why it’s so small. I’ve never seen a puzzle come with an image sheet this small. It’s pretty useless.
Back of a 6-inch by 8-inch page protector divided into 12 two-inch by two-inch pockets. Each pocket hold a piece of ephemera from my life in February 2026, as enumerated in the bulleted lists in the body of the post.

Currently: February 2026

COMPLETING, ever so slowly, a puzzle I had made from a photo I took a decade ago at the county fair. It’s harder than I thought it was going to be!!

A white poster board, seen from above, with a partially puzzled puzzle of a wall of balloons at the fair.

CONSIDERING buying a DVD player and a membership to my local video rental store, and replacing streaming with DVDs.

COUNTING down the days (60!) till the Michael Jackson biopic premiere, the return of gym flowers, and warmer weather and spending hours each day outside under the sun.

ENJOYING an episode (or half of one) of The West Wing each evening after dinner and charmed by how funny it is (I’m actually laughing out loud), and surprised by how much of Hollywood was on this show, either as regulars or guest stars.

FEELING vindicated as hell, along with all my fellow lifelong conspiracy theorists.

Screenshot of a tweet that reads, "Reparations, but for conspiracy theorists."

LISTENING to nervous system regulating music while either reading or doing word searches for an hour before dinner each evening instead of scrolling, watching TV, or listening to a podcast. Big recommend.

LOOKING, still—endlessly!—for a new therapist.

LOVING the first signs of spring in the Trader Joe’s flower department.

KEEPING a spreadsheet of words I encounter in books I read that I don’t know, that I’ve forgotten the definition to, or that I can use properly in a sentence but can’t articulate a clear definition to. (I’ve been doing this since I was teenager, writing each word’s definition in the margins. Since I now read only library books (finances, the economy, cost of living, etc.), I’ve started keeping a spreadsheet of these words, a change in approach inspired by this tweet.)

MAPPING out potential summer 2026 hikes.

PREPARING to launch a monthly puzzle exchange at my gym. I’m so excited!

READING through the Epstein Files via jmail dot world, a brilliant project that began as a way for people to read every released Epstein email as if you’re logged into his gmail account, and that has since expanded into a suite of cloned apps.

Screenshot of a tweet with an image made up of four smaller images in a 2-by-2 grid of actors in well-known scenes of movies with stressed out and resigned looks on their faces, with text overlaid reading, "staying informed in 2026"

SHOPPING for new bikini bottoms and finding it impossible to find cuts and patterns that I like.

USING the shit out of my library card (I’ve read 10 (!) books so far this month!).

WONDERING if other languages that use the Latin alphabet and Arabic numerals routinely refer to a number (0) as a letter (O), for example when speaking a phone number (five-oh-three v. five-zero-three) or time (six-oh-seven v. six-zero-seven). Is this just an English thing? Do languages that use different alphabets and/or numerals have a similar practice?

WORKING my way through this word search puzzle book.

Three new-to-me blogs

One of the benefits of being terminally online in this godforsaken era is that, every so often, I stumble upon corners of the internet untouched by AI slop or Epstein et al., and that remind me of how cool and fun the internet once was and still can be. What “cool and fun” means will differ depending on who you are. As someone who has been oversharing online since before social media, I’m partial to the personal blog. The less niche and more all-encompassing, the better. Today, I’m sharing three personal blogs I’ve recently learned about—all via Twitter—and that I’m enjoying reading.

Chris Aldrich – boffosocko.com

Screenshot of the homepage for Christ Aldrich's personal blog, featuring a page from an illuminated manuscript and his tagline, "Musings of a Modern Day Cyberneticist"

What I like about Chris’s blog:

  • Illuminated manuscript header image
  • Packed full of so much stuff
  • A lot of nerdy posts about vintage typewriters

* * *

Manuel Moreale – manuelmoreale.com

Screenshot of the homepage for Manuel Moreale's personal blog, designed to look like a table of contents.

What I like about Manuel’s blog:

* * *

Nick Momrik – nick.blog

Screenshot of the homepage for Nick Momrik's personal blog, featuring his tagline, "asparagus is gross"

What I like about Nick’s blog:

* * *

What I like about all three of these blogs:

  • None of them look or feel over-engineered
  • They’re not bogged down with ads, excessive popups, or trendy features (“features”)
  • Cohesive design
  • Well-organized
  • They’re not niched-down—there’s a little bit of everything

Project Life 2026: January ephemera

The first ephemera grid of the year is in the books. Here are the scraps of ephemera I saved in January.

A 6-inch by 8-inch page protector divided into 12 two-inch by two-inch pockets. Each pocket hold a piece of ephemera from my life in January 2026, as enumerated in the bulleted lists in the body of the post.

Top row

  • Packaging from the bread crumbs I use to make my daily lunch and dinner of crispy breaded chicken breast (it’s just store brand).
  • Portion of an old hard drive I had destroyed.
  • Packaging from a box of M&Ms that my son gifted me for Christmas, and that I finished in January.

Second row

  • Wrapper from an Andes “after dinner” mint. (When the kids were much younger, we each had an Andes after dinner every night. Early in the pandemic when we became split between households and then states, the nightly tradition died out. In January, I decided to buy a box and began having one each evening before bed.)
  • Packaging from an electrolyte sample.
  • Tag from a new gym t-shirt.

Third row

  • Tamper-proof seal from one of my supplements.
  • Portion of packaging from a natural toothbrush that I tried.
  • Tag from a new pair of gym leggings.

Bottom row

  • Receipt from a library hold.
  • Lifting tape from a workout.
  • Flower I found on the ground.
Back of a 6-inch by 8-inch page protector divided into 12 two-inch by two-inch pockets. Each pocket hold a piece of ephemera from my life in January 2026, as enumerated in the bulleted lists in the body of the post.

Hiking Dog Mountain

Back in November (yes, this is a very late post), I went on a rare non-warm-weather hike. I hiked Dog Mountain, a six-and-a-halfish-mile out-and-back on the Washington side of the Gorge. I was skeptical it’d be “worth it.” Famously, along with being considered one of the more strenuous hikes in the area, Dog Mountain is, for a few weeks each year, one of the more beautiful hikes in the area (wildflowers). Having done this hike before, and therefore having some experience with it specifically and the terrain and scenery in the Columbia River Gorge generally, I wasn’t sure what to expect scenery-wise outside of summer. Honestly, I thought it’d be a visual bust—just bare branches and soggy, brown leaves—in addition to being a physical and mental slog. I was wrong.

Vibrant fall foliage along Dog Mountain Trail.

Per usual, I arrived at the lot just as the sun began to rise.

And per usual, I was on the trail about 20 minutes later—all I had to do first was lace up my boots, decide which attire to actually wear (jackets, in this case), eat a few snacks, triple-check my pack had everything it needed (which I also checked a thousand times before leaving home), pee (twice), and quadruple-check my America the Beautiful pass satisfied the site’s day-use fee (it did).

A sign nailed to a tree directing hikers to one of two routes: "difficult" and "more difficult."

I first hiked this trail three and a half years ago—in much warmer weather, a few weeks before peak wildflower season—and the impression of it I had then remains the same: it’s all lungs and legs, and it’s windy (and COLD!) as fuck at the top. There’s about 3,000 feet of elevation gain, and the ascent is immediate. It does not matter which route you choose. You will feel it going up and coming back down. If you’re like me on this day and (1) have to pee so incredibly badly but don’t dare step off trail to do so because there are more people than you expect and no clear cover to conceal yourself, and (2) forgot to trim your toenails, the descent will suck even more than the ascent—every steeply downhill step will stress test your dysfunctional bladder and pelvic floor, and have your slightly too-long toenails slamming into the toe box of your boots.

A sign directing hikers toward the Dog Mountain summit, 1 mile away.
Thin fog as seen through tall tree lining Dog Mountain trail.
Vibrant fall foliage—orange and yellow and green and rusty red—covering Dog Mountain trail.

I was pleasantly surprised by how scenic much of the hike was, considering it was November. The fall foliage was gorgeous. Much more vibrant than it looks in my photos.

For much of the ascent, the sun came out in bursts, with a few quick sprinkles here and there. Yes, it was pretty cold and windy on the stretches of trail that had no tree cover. It’s also true that the weather could’ve been a lot less pleasant. I’m grateful it was a mild morning.

A false-summit selfie of me, with the Columbia River in the background.
The sun rising over the Columbia River Gorge, as seen from a stretch of Dog Mountain Trail.

I summited shortly before 9:00 am, just less than two hours after I began. It was so cold and windy and foggy up there! While waiting for the clouds to clear, I celebrated with my favorite summit snack: a pack of strawberry frosted Pop-Tarts.

For reference, here’s the view from the same spot pictured above when it’s not obscured by clouds/fog. (I took this photo back in May 2022.)

View of the Columbia River Gorge from the summit of Dog Mountain on a partly cloudy day in May 2022.

I will never not be charmed and in awe when one section of sky looks so totally different from another. I wish my phone camera captured how magical it felt up there.

Do you see that small, shiny area in the bottom left of the clip? That’s the trail!

I’m glad I stuck around till the sky cleared. A snow-covered Mount St. Helens was visible in the distance—and was much more striking in person than it is in this photo.

A perfectly clear and bright blue sky, and a snow-covered Mount St. Helens in the far distance, as seen from the summit of Dog Mountain.

I spent a little over an hour at the summit, which is for sure a record for me. Usually, I stick around just long enough to get a few photos, refuel, and rehydrate, and then I’m on my way. On this day, I took a little more time.

Late-morning view of the Columbia River through trees near the beginning of Dog Mountain Trail. The sun is shining above low-lying clouds.

Overall, a decent hike. Sure, it took much more of my day than I anticipated it would (partly because I spent so much time at the summit, and partly because of the needing-to-pee and slightly-too-long-toenails situations), and it felt WAY worse to me than did Mount Defiance during the summer, which sucked. It’s also true that it was about as perfect weather as you could ask for during fall in the Gorge, and the scenery was beautiful. I’m glad I went. I’d love to see it—even just once—during peak wildflower season. Maybe this’ll be the year.