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Later on, as I was looking at the treehouse and wondering what to do next, "airplane" simply flew into my mind! The 30-feet (9-meters) wreck came from an air salvage yard. At about $300, it's the only addition I ever had to pay real money for.

A few months after the plane had evolved into a bedroom, I found an abandoned ski boat behind a friend's warehouse. He offered it to me, and not wanting to offend, I took it. It became a very pleasant summer bedroom.

In the of spring of 2000, the same friend and I were out together when I noticed a nautical craft sitting in front of a marine supplier. It looked like a shabby submarine with a collapsed conning tower. I discovered it was a prop built for a 1960s Elvis movie.

After sinking another four railroad crossties, I attached the sub to the north end, per pendicular to the airplane, where it is being converted into a shower and bathroom. Each extension is situated at a slightly different elevation; none obstructs the view of the others. I like to think this lends balance to the imbalance.

I never use new materials when salvage is available. Every "adopted child" of this treehouse brings its own biography. The result is a unique and quite amazing multistory structure.

OUTLAW HIDEAWAY

Paul Reed My friend Scotty, William Scott Scurlock, used to live in a three-story treehouse deep in the woods of Thurston County, Washington. He earned his living from occasional carpentry jobs, and later from a series of bank robberies around Seattle. A master strategist, he also earned the name "Hollywood" because of his many disguises. What he did with the stolen money is not fully known.

I first knew Scotty when we were students around 1980 at the progressive Evergreen State College in Olympia. When I later returned to Olympia as a lawyer, I used to drop by his treehouse occasionally or bump into him at a downtown restaurant.

In October 1992, I contacted Scotty and asked to "borrow" his treehouse for a romantic interlude. Sensing the house would not last forever, I took photographs to preserve it in my memory. Sure enough, within five years Scotty was dead, and his treehouse put up for sale. Police cornered Scotty on Thanksgiving Day 1996, after his final heist, and he died by his own hand.

Scotty and a friend, Mickey Morris, built the treehouse at the back of a densely wooded 20-acre (8-hectare) property. Supported by stands of Douglas fir and cedar, it appeared to grow up from the forest floor (as its construction evolved, the house indeed did keep growing). Starting with a simple platform in the trees, they used donated wood (probably stolen lumber, too) and hand tools to create a structure, which eventually became Scotty's permanent residence.

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