Oregontown: Lumber Heaven
I really didn’t know what to expect when I headed toward Oregontown this morning. I had never actually been to that sector of MY Town because it always seems to be plagued by either forest fires, street riots, or crazy militia groups occupying wildlife refuges and having standoffs with federal agents. I tend to stay away from those things.
Today, however, I ignored my self-preservation instincts and rode my bike over to the west coast of MY Town. I mean, I’ve written about most of the other Cycle365 neighborhoods, so I felt like I OWED it to Scooter & Rocky and Mr. Grumby to at least pay a short visit to Oregontown. I didn’t want our Oregon friends to feel left out. (Assuming Scooter and Rocky still consider Oregon to be their home base in between all their other travels.)
As I said, I didn’t know what to expect. Would there be all of the natural beauty that the real Oregon has? Or would there just be the fires, the riots, and the gun nuts? Would there be any “collections?” Would there be anything at all worth photographing?
I didn’t know the answer to any of those questions so, just in case, I packed up a few Oregon-related props. I didn’t want to come home with NOTHING.
The bad news is that I had to break out those props early because I just wasn’t finding anything.
I don’t know if it was the effects of the Oregon beer’s alcohol, or the hallucinatory effects of the Oregon cheese, but after my break I started seeing all kinds of Oregonian stuff. Most of it seemed to be related to trees (AKA viewblockers) and wood products. Maybe part of it might also have been that I was reminded of Kesey’s other great novel Sometimes A Great Notion, which concerns the Oregon lumber industry.
When I got home I filed my own Bigfoot report right here, right now. Unlike most bigfoot photos, the one I took in Oregontown isn’t grainy and unfocussed. There he is — clear as can be. Proof positive.
gregblood
Hi. My name is Greg and I ride my bike a lot. That is to say, I ride my bike almost every day. I go on long rides and short rides. Sunny rides, cloudy rides, and rainy rides. I like commuting, errand-running, day-tripping, overnighting, and touring on my bike. I ride on city streets, highways, gravel, single track, and snow with equal enthusiasm. Sometimes I ride fast and sometimes I ride slow. I try to keep my feet on the pedals at stop lights and I do not dismount when I hop up on a curb. I have a roadie bike, a mountain bike and a touring bike. I try to accept any challenge a bike ride can throw at me without complaint. But I don't like bugs.
7 response to "Oregontown: Lumber Heaven"
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Of course we still consider Oregon home! Home is where your other two bikes are stashed, as the old saying goes. I especially appreciated your collection of four of my favorite local brands: Oregon, Kesey, Tillamook cheese, and craft beer. Coincidentally, Rachael brought me home a 6-pack of exactly this beer tonight.
It reminds me of a little shared personal fact: before Rocky and I met up, for several years I lived five or six blocks from the Oregon State Hospital, where One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest was filmed. Many mornings I would get up early in the morning and run through the hospital grounds with my dog, Molly – back in those long ago days when my knees still permitted running. One of the saddest memories of my life is of running back from the hospital on Xmas morning, and seeing Molly killed by a car right in front of me.
And a second little shared personal fact this reminds me of. I read Kesey’s book for the first time (it bore rereading) in the winter of 1969, while in basic training at Fort Lewis waiting to see if I was going to GBO shipped out to the jungles of Viet Nam. I found the novel easy to relate to, and likened Nurse Ratched to my drill Sargent, Sergeant Crowder. Unit Alpha-4-2: “Every Man a Tiger”, we roared every morning before mess call, and then growled fiercely (or else hit the floor for as many push-ups as we could manage). Our ferocious brand was reinforced by tiger paws painted on the latrine floor in front of the toilet seats. Fun time, fond memories.
Thanks for sharing those great stories. Very interesting and entertaining — except for the part about Molly getting hit by a car. That was sad.
Every man a Tiger! ROOAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHRRRRR!
With all those trees and lumbering, there must be considerable intersection between Oregontown and Vermontisota.
Good job of representing Oregon. But where are the protestors!
To both Rocky and Nancy: In my irrational fear of riots, I avoided the protestors even though I knew full well that 99.9% of them are peaceful. I feel like an idiot.
Lumber, trees, cheese and beer. You captured Oregon. Except, as Rocky points out — no protestors.