Tags
barns, Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, Columbia River Gorge, Moonies, Mt. Hood, Oregon, photography, secondary roads, travel
It’s been a brutal summer in the western United States. Lightning-sparked fires gobbled up tinder-dry and insect-riddled forests and clouds of ash-tinged smoke-stained the sky the color of tobacco skin. I leapt at the chance to escape to the Oregon coast where my friends had rented a beach house for the month of August.
Never content to drive directly to a destination, my journey must be worthy of the gas consumption. Yeah, go figure, I know it doesn’t make sense. I plotted a general course through central Oregon, determined to avoid the forest fires that dotted the map. These trips on secondary roads are the life blood of my existence. If I can’t screech to a stop for spontaneous photos, there’s too much traffic, so I look for thirdary roads.
Crazy stuff catches my eye: barns, doors, signs, old relics, evidence of lives lived and abandoned. One expects hopes and dreams to be constructed in areas of beauty. But what of the ones tucked into a depression of dry scrub brush, with no trees, no mountains, no claim to the aesthetic? What twisted dream chose a site like that? And why? Was it the only affordable choice? Perhaps the dreamer was so worn down by the time he got there that he threw up his hands and proclaimed, “Here we will stay!”
Driving through dilapidated Antelope, Oregon, an abandoned, early 20th century school house loomed on a rise at the end of time—a faded lime-green relic of happier days. During the early 1980’s this sleepy village became the chosen site for a commune of Rajneeshees, followers of Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh. Renaming the town to Rajneeshpuram did sit well with the disorganized and baffled ranchers and town folk. For a few years, the town was the talk of the west as images filtered out to the news media of orange cloaked, hippy-look-alikes lined up to meet and greet their infamous Rajneesh as he rolled by in one of his too many Rolls Royces. After five years of perplexing turmoil, the Rajneeshees evaporated just about as mysteriously as they had appeared. I drove the dusty streets looking in vain for evidence of the Moonies among the 50 or so remaining residents.
The scenery morphed from lovely and quaint ranches tucked into mountain meadows, to miles of mostly flat, dry grass and brush country. Occasional geological features conjure the long view__a history of cataclysmic weather events to make contemporary global warming pale in comparison: hoodoos; steep canyons, cut through basalt rock; long dead volcanic cones poking out of the prairie. Approaching Maupin, the familiar Columbia River Gorge flora began to appear and just around a bend in the road, lay White River Falls State Park, the site of an abandoned dam. As I struggled to capture the enchantment of the falls below the observation area, I was captured by a photographer for the Salem newspaper. Oh joy. He wanted my name so he could use images with me in the foreground. Rat’s I should have gotten some of him in my foreground!
Doubling back toward Maupin, the Old Barlow Road roughly follows a slice of the Oregon Trail on the bench land south of the Gorge, I slept on a picnic table at the completely empty Rock Creek Reservoir campground, hoping to catch some Persoids between trees supplicating to heaven. But I slept too well.
Leaving the campground the next morning, a narrow, paved road that pointing towards Mt. Hood distracted me. The main road lay in the opposite direction, but I am programed to discover what is around the next bend. I drove for about five miles through dense forest that was trying to reclaim the road. I expected to see deer or elk as the sun crested the horizon behind me. But the loping black bear that dashed into view in front of me woke me up. I kept driving, waiting for the aha moment—the view, the connection to something else, the destination. But wait, this is western Oregon. You can crest all sorts of summits and never see beyond the trees in front of you. Road 4820 ended at its intersection with gravel 4811. That was enough! If I only had a map! How did those explorers every get anywhere in this tangle of green? It turns out this area is heavily used by ORVs. The beauty of mid-week travel!
Onward, toward coffee and breakfast. After sneaking up on Mt. Hood, I headed toward Portland on Highway 35 and stopped in a little wide spot called Rhododendron. Still Creek Inn looked closed but said it was open. This huge place probably serves mountains of food during the ski season, but I was the only customer that morning. The lone waitress poured me a cup of coffee and disappeared at about the same time the chef wandered out of the kitchen. An enormous man with a big scar on his oddly-shaped, bald pate, he bragged of his ability “to remember eight orders without writing them down—but that was before the accident.” Hmmm. There was a weird vibe to this place. He convinced me to order the special: German sausage and mushrooms scrambled into eggs, and the special part, which substituted huckleberry cakes for toast. I was prepared for saucer-sized cakes. Instead, I got two platter-sized cakes so full of hucks, I could barely find the cake. I hardly made a dent in all this food. This $12.95 meal carried me through the day
Next stop, the Pacific Ocean!
What a lovely adventure. :3 It sounds like fun to roll down those old dusty roads.
My family got lost down a couple of gravel roads trying to find our destination in Alabama. There was even a cow standing right there in the middle of the road! I bet a black bear is much more surprising though.
Oregon sure is breathtaking sometimes, eh?
Mmmm, those cakes look delicious! ❤
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Wow! You must have read this 30 seconds after I hit “post!” Thanks for your comments. I’ve been lost a number of times. I always manage to find myself, though. 😉
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Wow! There is nothing about this post that I don’t absolutely love. Your pictures – even the road rising up ahead of you – are all spectacular. Your descriptions are so vivid I am tasting the huckleberry cakes, and the special addition of meeting friends is grand. Can’t wait for more.
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Coming from you, Renee, that makes my heart sing! Glad you enjoyed it. I’ve been so buried I haven’t had much time to pull my wits together.
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You’ve given me a great taste of what my wife and I might discover over the next week or so in Oregon. Great pics and descriptions, Linda. Someday you just become a..a..a..a..writer or something, Huh? I took particular interest in Antelope…where Rajneesh at one time drove his 96 Rolls Royce’s around the surrounding hills.Often wanted to see where my daughter and one of my stepdaughters hung out together for a while one summer and met the mighty man.
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If you get there, I suspect you’ll be underwhelmed! Thanks. And enjoy some moisture!
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Amazing post, Linda. Love the photos too. But why is there a… um… stuffed person (or dog..) sitting at the counter of the Still Creek Inn?
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Well, like I said, Val, there was a weird vibe… 🙂 Good eye. I wondered how many people would notice that detail.
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You sure have a way with words. I loved “thirdary”, it was long overdue to be created. Your travel descriptions are so lively that all I want to follow in your footsteps. I would try to avoid the newspaper guy though.
Looking forward to the next instalment!
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You are so sweet. The ever present editor in me arm-wrestled over that word. Now I’m glad I won. Yeah, the newspaper dude. Geez, he even recorded my voice. Yikes.
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Thanks for the little excursion to the prairie and forest. Cooled me down just a bit! Loved the tree in the middle of the road. Enjoyed riding along with you!
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Glad to provide some cheap thrills! Thanks for sticking it out through all those words!
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What a great post, Rangewriter! Just the way to travel. And congrats on getting out of the smoke. A most excellent idea, indeed. Very nice photo. Will have to get together and find out how you do it. Dean
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Thanks, Dean. Yes, trading smoke for fog was really nice. Um, how I do what? My photo technique is simple. Point & pray!
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Enormously enjoyable! I adore these small towns and hate that most of the time, I’m just passing through them. They deserve attention. They are more than the gas stations that one stops to refuel at.
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Thanks, SDS. This one was a bit too wordy, so I take my hat off to you for sticking with it. Yeah, these little towns look so sad. At least most of them do. Some of them don’t even have a gas station anymore. I don’t think Antelope had one.
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Man, I lived in Oregon back in the Dark Ages and have been hankering to revisit. This didn’t help quench my hankering.
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Really, John? Hmmm. Interesting. There’s more to come for you, my friend. 😉 Drop by next week.
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Still marvelling at you sleeping on a picnic table. What an adventurous soul you are.
I have family in Oregon and will be hinting that I’d love to visit some of the places you have shown me.
Wonderful photos.
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Hey, I’d never tried a picnic table before but it was great. Up above the bugs and the moisture.
Hey, if you get to Oregon, you won’t be far from Idaho either! Give me a shout out. 😉
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Will do !
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Linda, every one of your photographs seems to tell a story of its own. I could just look at the pictures and get a lot out of your posts — but then I’d miss your wonderful writing.
I remember the Rajneeshees, and have always wondered if many of the original residents bothered to return to their town.
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Ah, Charles, you make my heart sing. I looked at the population of the town before/after the Moonies (as we always called them). It looked about the same. I don’t believe the census ever counted the Moonies…they weren’t there long enough. The town was never large, maybe 250 people at its peak. I think it suffers the same woes as most rural small towns do. One glaring problem is that small, independent farms and ranches have been larger replaced by agribusiness.
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I am really confused now wondering which photo is my favorite in this post. Starting from the first one to the last, each one is unique and just beautiful. I am always close to nature and it seems like my kind of places.
When I read that the town was renamed to Rajneeshpuran, I thought how some place could end with “Puram” in US. If I am not wrong then, Puram is a word from a local language in India in tamil and it means exterior.
But after visiting the link I could know the history of this place. 🙂 And let me tell you, Bhagwan in our language means God.
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Yes, Arindam, this guy who was behind Rajneeshpuran considered himself to be a bit of a god. He started this cult and requested his followers to divest all their money into his care. Then he went out and bought a fleet of maybe 100 Rolls Royce cars. Why do people believe charlatans like this?
Anyway, thanks for your commpliments. I’m glad you enjoyed the photos.
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Needless to say I love all the words. My favorites in this post?
“One expects hopes and dreams to be constructed in areas of beauty. But what of the ones tucked into a depression of dry scrub brush, with no trees, no mountains, no claim to the aesthetic? What twisted dream chose a site like that?”
This inspires me to take the long way next I travel. As soon as I get a reliable car that is!
And the photo of the blue door with BOOKS above it captured me. I love it.
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And I felt bad about foisting all those words on you! Thank you for easing my conscience. Glad you liked the BOOKS. I had to go back for that shot. It was one of those delayed reactions… I thought I also had a great shot of the school house but somewhere in all my technological toys, I must have deleted it.
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Excellent post love it 🙂
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Thanks, Jake!
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Wonderful and unique combination of excellent pictures and interesting prose – and No, Linda, not too many words! And I also loved your “twisted dream” passage! Looking forward to more!
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Thank you my dear, for your kind encouragement! More will follow. 😉
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Hi Linda: I’d trying posting a comment earlier but it rejected me! So I’ll try again. I was saying how much I love your pics and how they make me want to go back to Oregon. It’s been a long while since I last visited. Am heading to CA later this month for some chocolate tasting, so at least I’ll get pretty close!
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Thanks for letting me know about the posting problem. I haven’t heard from anyone else having that problem, but I’ve been pretty inundated lately. Who knows.
Enjoy your trip to California.
If I ever pull myself out of the hole I’ve landed in, I’d like to finally read Chocolatour and maybe screw up my nerve to take it into one of the Chocolate shops here in town. Who knows, maybe they’d just love to have a few copies on their shelf to sell or add to gift boxes or something. 😉
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That is a wonderful idea, Linda. There is a chocolate shop here in Manitoba that will be doing that: including a copy of Chocolatour in their gift baskets. Because it is soft copy and not too bulky, it fits amazingly well in gift baskets with wine, chocolate and other delicacies. Cheers!
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What a crook! Bhagwan Shree Horseshit, if you ask me.
Look, I’ll not be shy… I have a favorite image here, and I don’t mind sayin’ so.
You know I’ve checked out a lot of your images (browsing flickr and what not), and it seems like you’ve tried some new ideas in some of these shots. 🙂
I like your work. Always do.
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Thank you for bringing us along on this road trip. It was fun and really beautiful. I have only been occasionally to Oregon, but the nature is so breathtaking and diverse there, something you have capture in these lovely images. It’s wonderful that you take those old back roads, all too often we don’t take the time – and thus miss most of the landscape.
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Thanks. Oregon is easy to photograph. I appreciate your encouragement, too.
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