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Let me take you to the West Hills. Here you鈥檒l find million-dollar houses with billion-dollar views and some of Portland鈥檚 wealthiest citizens. This is the other side of the 鈥淜eep Portland Weird鈥� coin.

Southwest Fairmont Boulevard and Council Crest Park, to me, are the epitome of the West Hills.

In my earliest memory, I am at my grandparents鈥� old house on Fairmont, swimming in their pool, when I get water up my nose.聽 My father comforts me and tells me how to make the unpleasant feeling go away. I have never quite been able to decide what the memory foreshadows.

As a child, I took my first steps on the pavement of Fairmont. As an adult, I have spent more hours than I can count running the winding 3.5-mile loop.

I learned to drive on this street. I remember taking my car to Fairmont late on a Friday night during my junior year of high school, driving too fast around the loop, listening to Bruce Springsteen鈥檚 鈥淏adlands鈥� 鈥� 鈥淔or the ones who had a notion, and a notion deep inside, that it ain鈥檛 no sin to be glad you鈥檙e alive鈥� 鈥� and thinking that life couldn鈥檛 get any better.

I found myself driving around Fairmont yet again on a recent Thursday afternoon. This time, though, even as I relived my memories of the street, I saw the area with the new eyes of a journalist covering the local building industry. I noticed the architecture of the houses flanking both sides of the street and marveled at how ultra-modern the structures look, in spite of the fact that many were built decades ago.

The loop has no sidewalk, not even a shoulder to speak of, but traffic is light enough that the street is always filled with runners, walkers and bicyclists. I drove it so effortlessly, accelerating and braking by instinct, that I almost believed I could do it with my eyes closed.

When I had completed the loop, I turned right on Southwest Bertha Avenue, and then turned left onto Southwest Council Crest Drive. Another left turn found me on Southwest Greenway Avenue. I followed the street up and up, until I had reached Council Crest Park.

At 1,073 feet above sea level, Council Crest Park is thought to be the highest point in the city. According to legend, it got its name because it was where Native Americans held meetings and built signal fires.

There is another theory that it got its name in 1898 by delegates to the National Council of Congregational Churches, who met at the top, but I like the Native American legend much better. For me, Council Crest has always been one of those places in Portland that is brimming with magic.

After parking my car on the side of the road, I walked up to the lookout point. As I took in my surroundings, I wished I could paint what I saw with words, the way C茅zanne painted landscapes with oils.

If I were to try, I would write about the tall trees with their leaf-covered branches stretching up toward the clear blue sky.

I would write about the massive expanse of evergreens to the south, sprawling like an ocean as far as I could see. I would write about how I could not look at them without wondering whether they would still be there in another 50 years, or if they would be replaced with houses and buildings.

I would write about the view to the north, a gorgeous panorama of multicolored buildings rising from the streets of Portland鈥檚 downtown.

I would write about how, beyond the skyscrapers, I could see the tower at the Portland International Airport; and beyond that, the Columbia River; and beyond that, Washington.

Even as I marveled at the landscape, I realized that if I really wanted to try to create a picture in words that would feel like a painting by C茅zanne, I would need to do one more thing.

I have seen many sunsets from atop Council Crest. Each one鈥攑urples and pinks splashed across the sky behind a blood-orange sphere of the sun鈥攚ill stay with me always. But I have never seen a sunrise.

I knew then that in order to make my word painting complete, I would need to travel to Fairmont Boulevard and Council Crest Park again soon. It was time to start making new memories.

Stephen Alexander covers real estate and development for the Daily Journal of Commerce. He can be reached at [email protected] or at 503-802-7240.