In all, Metro oversees a diverse geographic region occupied by more than a million citizens. They live everywhere from country-club estates to inner-city housing projects, from squeaky-clean suburbs to one-main-street towns originally laid out by pioneers. Despite their geographic diversity, these residents share a willingness to speak up when asked what they want their community to look like in years to come. As Metro has worked to draft a vision statement called Region 2040 to guide growth over the next half-century, "Thousands of citizens, local governments, neighborhoods, businesses and interest groups became involved," says Metro Executive Officer Mike Burton.

Pockets of open space within this diverse region "offer places where you can find a slower pace of life, a refuge in the heart of a major urban area," says Bowen Blair Jr., who directs the Oregon office of the Trust for Public Land. That kind of breathing room will become ever more important as Portland attempts to shoehorn future growth within existing urban boundaries.

Few doubt that growth is imminent for Portland. The only question is: How fast? Recent studies project the region's population will nearly double over the next 40 years. And because of Oregon's "hold-the-line" attitude toward growth, those additional million residents will have to find homes within existing urban areas. As the Portland region becomes more densely populated, urban green spaces "will keep people connected to the natural world," says Klein.

Adds Blair: "You can't create more dense cities unless you also have open space where people can escape to the outdoors." He believes it's no accident that one of Portland's most populated neighborhoods-Nob Hill, a hustling area packed with historic homes, galleries and restaurants-sits literally in the shadow of tranquil Forest Park.

Although the state's tradition of stewardship dates back much earlier, Oregon signed on to land-use planning as the official law of the land in the 1970s. By designating urban-growth boundaries around existing cities, and protecting outlying areas as farmland and forests, lawmakers made Oregon the first state in the U.S. to legally rein in the runaway sprawl that has altered the character of so many cities.

That bold step grew naturally out of what Klein calls "the Oregonian mindset." In this state, the entire Pacific coast is accessible to the public. Recycling is practiced with missionary zeal by Oregonians who are proud that their state passed the nation's first bottle-recycling bill. Portland civic leaders have repeatedly made national headlines for decisions that might seem eccentric to outsiders: turning a busy commuter highway into a grassy swath called Waterfront Park, or offering bus riders free transportation in the downtown corridor to encourage mass transit, or transforming a prime block of downtown real estate into a people-oriented, brick-lined plaza called Pioneer Courthouse Square.

Over the years, outsiders have come to see the wisdom in Portland's way of doing things. "A vibrant downtown, the sidewalks full of purposeful-looking citizens, clean, well-cared-for buildings, electric trolleys, water fountains that work, cops on bikes, greenery everywhere--could this be America?" asks James Howard Kunstler, author of The Geography of Nowhere. Portland feels so good, he adds, it's "like a city in another country."

Back in 1903, when Portland was on the cusp of an earlier population boom, landscape architect John Olmstead took stock of the community's spectacular geography. From a forested hillside on the west of the city, he savored the view that Portlanders continue to share with visitors whenever skies are clear: the Willamette and Columbia rivers sparkling in the foreground, with Mount Hood and Mount St. Helens  gracing the horizon. Rather than drawing up plans for one grand park (as his father, Frederick, did with New York's Central Park), the younger Olmstead suggested that Portland link its natural features with a network of trails and green ways.

The Olmstead plan was never entirely completed, but the idea of "interconnected natural features" has shaped Portland's destiny, believes Klein. Today, hikers can traverse miles of trails within the 5,000 acres of Forest Park, the nation's largest urban wilderness preserve. Canoeists can paddle in close to shore for views of great-blue-heron rookeries along the Willamette River, which runs through downtown. Cyclists can explore the community along an ever-expanding network of bike lanes. And strollers can still share the same expansive view that Olmstead once enjoyed from the paths that hug tree-lined Terwilliger Boulevard.

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