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The Trip to Prospect
I know I've written about Southern Oregon in the last few years and on this trip I will be visiting several of the same places that Jeffi, Sheila and I went in the Fall of 2003. But we never manage to see everything and things change. Also, this time I was traveling with a different friend, Fred. Fred lived in the Rogue Valley until high school and knows all the back roads and swimming holes. Fred and I always respect each other and usually amuse each other, so I don't think the trip will bore me. Or you. As always, if you want off the
list, just let me know.
Fred and I have been buddies for about 30 years. When I was a baby lobbyist, he was a baby lawyer with Oregon's Legislative Counsel -- the staff arm of the Legislature that drafts measures and provides legal research and other legal services. After we each got some experience we ended up working together at the League of Oregon Cities for a few years. And then later, when I was contracting to help with the Oregon Voters' Pamphlet, Fred was a senior official in the Elections Division. His retirement from that position prompted our trip. Partly because we now both had time to travel together (and we had some mighty fine times touring Oregon when we worked for the League), but also because Fred is a thoughtful person and this was my reward for working myself into a coma on his two (count them, two!) full scale retirement parties--one in Salem and one in Portland. I would not have given a bent Roosevelt dime to go on a trip with Fred right after them, but it's been 6 weeks and now I love him again.
We took off on a Sunday in early October, in the middle of one of the best Indian summers we've had in Oregon. Probably due to global warming and probably we're not allowed to call them that anymore and maybe that's not the right term because we're just barely past the solstice. Oh well, it's been delightful anyway.
We decided to skip the freeway as much as we could and travel on 99E. We drove south through the nurseries of Clackamas County, past rows and rows of 3' juniper, cedar, spruce, holly, laurel, arbor vitae, etc. Then rows of 3' to 6' lilac, maple, elm, all things deciduous. Oregon does a lot of trees as row crops and this is a good time of year to see them, undistracted by the vegetable fields and summer flowers. The first stop was Aurora, antique-land on the outskirts of the Portland metropolitan area. There are at least four dozen antique shops in this little community of about 700 pop., but we only did one -- an antique hardware and farm equipment shop. There are all manner of rusted cast iron tools, floor vents in many sizes and shapes, old doors and windows, a bit of jewelry, a little leather, a few dishes and pots (Fred bought a saucer) and several unique items, like an old child's coffin ($150). We were not tempted by this.
Then, since we were almost there, we stopped in to visit a friend of Fred's in Woodburn, and raid her garden for omelette vegetables and get a lunch recommendation. Woodburn is one of our truly bilingual communities (many Hispanics here to work the crops and nurseries). All of the school signs and community center notices, most church reader boards and many business signs, are in both Spanish and English. (But, unfortunately, not the city web site.) The recommended restaurant, Le Pepita (I think), was very much like a restaurant in tourist Mexico, the English translations on the menu were a little strange, some of the meats and sweets on display looked a little strange, too, and our young waitress spoke no English. Fortunately Fred is pretty good in Spanish. And I, myself, am pretty good at "Pacifico, por favor." Fred ordered the rest, a wonderful make-your-own tacos platter for two with chicken, pork and beef, refried beans, lettuce, tomato and guacamole and a dozen little corn tortillas for $12. Very good, except the guac, which was tasty, but frozen. In Mexico once I was served powdered, reconstituted beans, so this was a small sin. It was also served on south-of-the-border time, probably because the guac wasn't thawed yet, so it took a long time. By the time we left we'd been on the road for 3 hours and were only 30 miles from home.
So after lunch, no more fooling around, it was on down the highway, through the vegetable fields, only pumpkins left unharvested, then to the freeway, and finally, after another 2 hours, up over the Cascades via Highway 58 out of Eugene into the high desert forest of western Central Oregon. This is a lodge pole pine forest and not much else. On the edges of the desert, though, there are mushrooms and moss and signs for mushroom buyers were posted. But it's not really time for mushrooms yet, there hadn't been any moisture and the fire danger was still high in most of the area, so our dreams of inexpensive chanterelles and maybe even some pine truffles to add to the fresh zucchini were not to come true. Instead we stopped at a grocery store and then on to the Prospect area where we would be staying. It's a nice drive after you get through the lodge pole flats. We didn't stop to visit the Desert Forest Journey's Infostop, maybe next time, if only to see how they explain the phrase "desert forest." Here's a picture, though, so you can understand the look if not the life-cycle.  Then on into the Ponderosa forest with the occasional large-leaf maple and the short fern-like bracken in their fall golden colors. It's strange country, a lot of the land is pumice, either beige or red. Here's a nice  picture of a pumice bank along the road.
Prospect is a small community up the Rogue River from Grants Pass, which is about 40 miles from the California border. Just downriver from it is Lost Creek Lake, really a reservoir created by a dam. (When did they rename all these reservoirs and declare them to be lakes? Must have been in some Republican administration. A joke--kind of--apologies to my Republican friends. But I'm thinkin' maybe Nixon). The point of this little geographic exercise is that Fred and I were staying at his brother Larry's place on the north side of the lake, on Lewis Road after it turns to gravel if anyone is following along on the map. The summer place is a *very* nice one with central heating and real furniture and a lovely herb garden etc so can't really be called a cabin. But the lots are large, you can't even see the neighbors or the marina development and there's BLM land all the way down to the lake, so it feels a little remote. It's very comfortable and we were tired so we just made a salad and turned in.
Tomorrow, exploring the Rogue River.
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