Speaking of magnificent Norwegian fishing shacks, here in Oregon, I found some of my own character splendor. One morning, I went on a scavenger hunt for an old house I had seen photographed. I ended up at a museum in a town that seemed way too small to even have a museum and got directions to its whereabouts. I've been there several times since because I love it. It sits in the middle of a field, has an amazing view of Mount Hood, and is in, what I consider, the perfect state of disrepair. I always feel a bit intrusive when I'm there, and, no, not because of the "No Trespassing' sign.