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Blue Basin- artists rendition.

"Let us go," was the rallying cry I heard during last week's trip to eastern Oregon with my eighteen-year-old grandson. "Though one hundred percent of rural voters may vote against a proposed change to the Constitution, I repeatedly heard, "our concerns are ignored by legislators and city folk who  outvote us with their progressive blue-state laws." They complained about family values, faith, gun control, wolves decimating cattle herds, mask mandates, and self-reliance.  Would they be better off joining conservative Idaho? 

Though I listened to what was  said, I don't see their views as good for the eighty-four percent of the population residing  in cities. Yet they must be doing something right. The people I met were friendlier, more helpful, less angry, and less frantic than their urban counterparts. It would be a shame if they succeded from the state.  Oregonians would be giving up a lot.

Pioneer wagon tracks remain visible near Baker City where  settlers stopped after overcoming rough mountain passes, deep gorges, and fast-flowing rivers that often capsizde their belongings. These hearty sould faced  mountain lions, black bears, coyotes, and rattlesnakes, and overcame illness, thirst, and an inadequate food supplyon their search for fertile fields. They didn't have time to dwell on the state's beauty. Traveling through a wilderness thick with mammoth trees and uncertain weather was not easy.

In Pendelton I listened to tales of speakeasies, brothels, underground stores, and hovels for the 2000 Chinese who helped build the railroad. An underground tour was a good introduction to a western frontier town and wondered how I would have responded to an invitation to a hanging.

Nestled at 4500 feet in the Wallawa Mountains is the city of Joseph, remining me of the Alps. To get there we passed ranches with grazing pastures that supported hundreds of cattle.  Their cowboys would ride horses to town when hungry for a working mans breakfast. Mounds of pancakes, french toast, and omelets filled bellies and ranch talk was the norm. The chatter was lively as they downed cups of hot coffee. 

Wilson Hunt directed John Astor's Overland party in the early 1800s and was deceived into thinking the Madd River (today called the Snake) would lead to the Columbia. Bare of edible game, and over 8,000 feet deep it places, the canyon is not a place to spend the winter. When his party separated, some men died of starvation and others were left behind while Hunt continued to search for a way out. The Madd River he canoed on didn't connect with the Columbia as he had hoped. But he finally found  a way through the mountains that future  wagon trains followed.

Our next stop was The John Day Fossil Beds in east-central Oregon. Among the most dramatic  sites in the state, they are my favorite place to visit.  Our journedtook us back fifty million years to a time when the oceanended at the present border of Idaho. The water receded when repeated volcanic eruptions spread ash and rock to build the mountains, clifts, and high desert lands seen today. The marshes that once supported a semi-tropical paradise for plants and animals left fossil traces in the rocks for visitors to explore. As the eruptions continued, the mountains grew taller, with the Cascades the last to be formed. The ten feet of annual rainfall that supported a jungle-like habitat, dimished to a drizzle. Entire species disappeared with their bones and leaves covered by ash. Today, the high desert (approximately 2,300 feet above seawater) receives between 10 and 16 inches of rain annually. The remnants of what once was is recorded in the rocks. Paleontologists have uncovered fossils of banana trees, palms, chestnut trees, and towering oaks disappeared. The remains of tortoises, crocodiles, tiny three-toed horses, camels, and rhinos are on display at the Clarno Paleo Center.

Three miles from the center is a hiking trail through the Blue Basinthat shows this  journey through time. The creek that runs through, turns bright blue-green in the spring. Unfortunately, it was dry at the end of May when we were there.

Continuing east are the Painted Hills, a soothing place to meditate on creation and evolution.

To the north, we stoped in Fossil where budding paleontologists dig for treasure behind the high school. If you look carefully at the rock below,you will see if you can find the image of a two-inch leaf. 

 What would a trip out west be without a ghost town? Shaniko, once a thriving sheep herding area, succumbed to the marketplace when Lycra and other synthetics replaced wool. Imagine what it was like when the town was thriving with a train running through it. The owner of the historic Sheniko Hotel is fixing it up with plans to be in business again before fall.  Thankfully, a cafe serving sandwhiches and ice cream already opened on the ground floor.

  A short distance from Fossil you can walk through time at the base of basalt colonnades.

The drive  over Mount Hood was the perfect way to end our journey. The afternoon was warm and sunny; the snowboarders by Timberline Lodge had packed it up for the day. But my grandson and I had a wonderful tiime sloshing through the snow and  freezing our hands molding snowballs. 

Oregon has it all, oceans, mountains, lush valleys, tall trees, and desert dunes. Approximately fifty-three percent of its 61 million acres is on federal land managed by BLM, the Forest Service, and Parks. State and local governments care for another three percent. Crater Lake, Mount Hood, and the John Day Fossil Beds are all National Parks.

By now you might understand why I don't want an inch of Oregon to go to Idaho. But what can be done when city and country folk don't agree on the way forward? Perhaps it's time to stop thinking that one size fits all  and pass laws that give rural communities greater leeway to self-regulate. I might be willing to bend a little as long as there they have a willingness  to acknowledge diversity, recognize that guns are a city problem that has to be solved, and preservation of  the environmentis important to future generations.  Pendleton sets an examplee of what could be. For years the city has  acknowledged its support of the LGBTQ. They have a Proud Together Pride Parade that  is complete with drag queens in full flamboyant attire. Way to go Eastern Oregon!

Please  share your opinons below. Should we let sisty percent of the state succeed from the state?

Art is always for sale. For information about Blue Basin contact me at [email protected]

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