What I Learned About Humanity as an Airbnb Owner
And it ain’t pretty
Mt. Hood, measuring over 11,000 feet, is about 60 miles from Portland, Oregon in the Cascade Mountain Range. With a ski lift conveying adventurers up a steep glacier, it’s the only mountain in the U.S. with year-round skiing. In mid-July, a visitor to iconic Timberline Lodge can walk the trails, dotted with lupine, in flip flops and make out snowboarders 1,000 feet up gliding down a glacier. (Visitors may also shiver when gazing at the exterior of Timberline Lodge; it served as a set for Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining.)
My family owns a log cabin 20 minutes away on the edge of Mt. Hood National Forest that we call Hummingbird Lodge. It’s a modest home with three bedrooms that sits on several forested acres of Douglas fir, giant cedar, and hemlock with an understory of huckleberry, rhododendron, and wild rose.
Having never owned a vacation rental, I embarked on this a new revenue stream as a neophyte. I installed a giant swing, hammocks, and Adirondack chairs, inviting visitors to absorb the peacefulness of nature. Guests come to hike or fish in the summer and engage in snow sports or sledding in the winter, grilling food or soaking in the hot tub afterward.
After more than three years of hosting, I’ve noticed fascinating patterns of human behavior.
