Bly, Oregon

Historic Archives

Build Log — Dec 30 to Jan 4

Notes on how blyoregon.org came together during the first intensive build sprint.

Context

I’m Quentin Nichols. I’ve always been interested in Bly’s history. My great-grandfather, Bill Nixon (Howard William Nixon), worked for Weyerhaeuser and shared countless stories with me. We spent many hours driving around the area, seeing places, and visiting with people—many of whom are mentioned on this site and are no longer with us including my grandpa bill who passed away when I was 12. Those experiences shaped how I understand Bly and why its history matters to me.

Bly once had a website that held pieces of this history, but it’s no longer available. This is my attempt to bring that back—preserved, expanded, and made more accessible. I hope others come to value it as much as I do.

I recently started using Visual Studio Code. At first, I was just experimenting—building small websites, learning how things worked, breaking them, fixing them. Out of that tinkering came the idea to build blyoregon.org.

I originally planned to take New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day, and the weekend mostly off. I expected to use Wednesday through Sunday to work on TikTok and try to generate income.

That plan didn’t hold.

Instead, almost unintentionally, I spent that entire stretch building the website. I wasn’t following a plan. I was pulled forward by momentum. Each solved problem revealed another possibility, and the process itself became exciting.

Time Recorded

Between December 30 and January 4, I spent 50 hours and 13 minutes working almost entirely on the website.

Daily breakdown:

This time was not planned. It accumulated through momentum rather than intention.

How the time was spent (estimated)

There was almost no recreational use.

Result

By the end of this period, the site had a strong foundation. The core architecture was built. Adding features now feels smooth instead of fragile.

For the first time since buying my coding books in 2019, I built a fully self-designed website that I understand end-to-end. The site is personally hosted, costs nothing beyond the domain, and includes advanced functionality—such as searchable Community Action Team meeting minutes that instantly reference an entire dataset by keyword.

Cost

By Sunday, I was drained. I spent very little time outside. I didn’t exercise. I was mentally exhausted and ended up missing work the following day because I had nothing left. This wasn’t intentional, and it didn’t feel good. It felt like a mistake.

Current state (Monday, Jan 5 — 10:37 AM)

I’m now dealing with a technical limitation. GitHub restricts uploads to 1/10 GB, and a two-hour MP3 interview exceeds that. I temporarily hosted the file on Google Drive and linked to it, but it’s not an appropriate or clean solution. It doesn’t look right, and it doesn’t feel right.

I’m actively researching external storage options (including Amazon and other providers) because GitHub’s large file system doesn’t support direct MP3 playback the way I need.

These are real hurdles—ones that only appear once the foundation exists. From the outside, they can look like wasted time.

Outlook

I feel worn out and don’t want to look at my computer, yet I still have logging history data ready to upload. Realistically, I may not accomplish other goals I set for today and will likely continue working on the website instead.

Despite the cost, this feels like a real foundation—both for the site and for the skills behind it. I can see how these skills could one day be used in a profitable way. For now, the site exists as something built carefully, for the community, and with intention—even though the process took more out of me than I expected.