I got an email this week from a woman who wanted to talk to me about contracting with her organization to help with a new project. I emailed her back to let her know that my company was not well-suited for the project (we aren’t) . She asked me for ideas for others who might be and I shared some recommendations.

It wasn’t the first time I’ve done this; it’s reflective of the way I do business. I’ve worked for others in the past who have told me to lie about our bandwidth or capabilities and, in addition to being unethical, I don’t think it’s a smart long-term strategy. You might make a quick buck, but that’s all it’s going be. Clients — like lovers — leave when they discover you’re pretending to be something you’re not.

(And, in both cases, there’s a strong likelihood they’re going to talk shit about you.)

A couple of weeks ago I decided I needed to get away. I have a project I need to give more attention to and I thought holing up — away from the distractions of home and routine — would be a wise move. I wanted to go somewhere relatively close by, so my first thought was to drive down to Portland (a 3.5 to 4 hour drive) because there were a couple of hotels in the city on my list to check out. It seemed like an excellent opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

When I visited the website of The Society Hotel in Portland (one of the spots on my list) I noted that they had opened a second location in Bingen WA, which seemed like an even better option — free from the potential distractions of a city. Bingen is on the very southern border of Washington State, across the Columbia River (via a truly terrifying bridge) from the hippie town of Hood River, Oregon and smack dab in the middle of the Columbia River Gorge. It seemed like a perfect spot to hide out, emerging only to eat or to take a hike on one of the many nearby trails.

There are three types of accommodations at The Society in Bingen: bunk rooms, private suites, and cabins. The first two do not have private bathrooms (deal breaker), so I decided I should go with a cabin. However, before I booked online, I called the hotel to let them know my plans — specifically, my desire for quiet — to see if they thought a cabin would be an acceptable solution. I was assured that, although the cabins circle a central communal area, I would be okay.

I booked the cabin.

My first impressions of The Society were great. I was excited when I pulled into the parking lot after my long drive. While it feels incongruously situated in what is essentially a small town with a prominently placed pot shop, it’s cute. It was originally a school, a fact that explains the school gym adjacent to the main building, as well as much of the themed decor (a theme that does not carry over to the cabins).

After I had checked in, I was walked to my cabin by Magnus, who was sweet and helpful and gracious and who — he shared — had moved to Bingen to work for the hotel. It was also Magnus who pointed out the ear plugs by the side of my bed, an effort by the hotel to help guests drown out the noise from the train.

The train. The TRAINS.

Honestly, it was comical. (Literally, I laughed.) On my first night (I booked two nights), I was awakened by the sound of the train because it sounded like it had jumped the tracks (two blocks away) and was heading right for me. And they kept coming. I tried to count, but there were periods when there were only minutes between trains — first the air horn announcing its arrival and then the cars rumbling loudly along the tracks.

It was like a scene out of movie.

The thing is, I’m generally not bothered by noises like trains or cars or sirens. It’s voices — or other evidence of humans like snoring and televisions — that I can’t help but allow to distract me. But this train…these TRAINS.

The Society Hotel had opened two weeks — to the day — before my arrival. I presume they will wrap up some of the remaining construction, work on ensuring they have adequate staffing at the front desk, expand their dining options, and increase the amount of information about the hotel and the surrounding area on the website and on site as well.

But they’re not going to get rid of those trains, or the noise that they create. So they should ask potential guests who explicitly state that they are looking for quiet if those trains will bother them. Those guests might say no and book a bunk or a suite or a cabin. They might not, but they may be back the next time — when quiet isn’t a requirement — because they appreciate the honesty.

It really is the best policy.

My Stays: June 7-9, 2019; the future (when I don’t need quiet)