Return to Central Oregon, or, Why The Hell Did We Leave This Place?

On a clear, cold, blue Saturday afternoon, local Prineville kids are running and playing around the bon fire they built in their front yard. Their faces show signs of joy and insanity as they throw old wood scraps into the raging blaze. At such a sight, the thought that we are not in Portland jumps to the forefront of my mind. Since moving from Central Oregon to Portland in October of 2005, we had been back to the area three times, but this time, nearly 5 months after leaving, I feel that it has been long enough to notice the variety the area offers, to ponder reasons why we left, and why it truly is a great place to live.

The drive from Portland takes you through old growth trees, serene creeks and free grazing cattle. On the descent off of Mt Hood, the pine trees turn very suddenly to juniper trees, welcoming you to a whole new area, one of dry, hot summers, bitterly cold winters, and strikingly different attitudes about life and leisure. Not only are the Cascade mountains a division of climate and elevation, but they also divide Oregon’s people in many ways.

I think an underlying feeling of the 3 years we spent in the area is the amount of freedom we felt. Not only free in the sense of wide open views, and huge spaces of un-populated areas, but in the spiritual sense of freedom. Things that spring to mind are of peeing anywhere and anytime outside (non man made structures only) without the threat of being seen, face to the sky, no need to aim, and just letting loose. This is a huge freedom for men, one that has no constraints of aiming at a bowl or needing to flush. Knowing that you live in an area that is nearly police-free is also in the same sense, something of great relief. Not that we were stealing livestock or thieving from Wal-Mart, but just knowing that police or authority were usually not around when we were hopping “No Trespassing” fences to get up Barnes Butte, or walking across a neighbor’s field to get a closer shot (the photo kind, of course) of that deer.

One amazing experience we had was when a friend invited us out for a BBQ in Ashwood, Oregon. Ashwood is a former mining town that is now inhabited by around 20 people, in fact the party we went to, the entire school was there (all ten kids). One road leads to the town and the nearest police are 50 miles west. A BBQ in Ashwood is unlike any BBQ we had ever been to. In the course of the evening, a cannon shot a 4” diameter cylinder through a truck, a bonfire fueled by hundreds of pallets and gallons of gasoline was lit, kids ran wild, go-carts were ridden, copious amounts of Black Butte Porter were consumed, dogs had attacked each other, and many loud, obnoxious rednecks mixed with innocent city boys that felt the whole scene to be overly surreal. All these people with widely different backgrounds, mingling together, yet we felt completely welcomed and accepted to this extraordinary scene. Without getting into the differences between country and city, the Ashwood BBQ is something that certainly would not go on in any town over the population of 20 with any type of authoritive figure in residence. It was great!! At no other time in my life had I felt so free to do whatever the hell I wanted, to be as loud, to drink as much, and to be amongst that many people and be whatever I wanted to be.

Stimulation in Central Oregon is much the same as in small towns everywhere. Nights are short and days are spent working on the house or being outside. There are no good bars around, no bands playing to check out, no theater, movie or otherwise. It took awhile to get used to, and by three years here we were naturals at having the PJ’s on by 8 and settling down for a movie. It was hard when visitors came out: “What do you want to do tonight?” was soon followed by “scrabble and Mirror Pond IPA, it is.” I think that the romanticism surrounding life in the country is exactly this circumstance, of having seemingly so much more free time to spend with family or doing hobbies or whatever. Being back in the city these last few months has brought this to realization. In Portland we have cable internet, movie theaters, access to amazing DVD collections, and our life seems hectic and convoluted even though we have chosen to surround ourselves with these things. It is certainly avoidable but you are almost forced to avoid it in the countryside where dial up internet means no constantly checking the computer to see if that download of March of Penguins has finished. It’s exhausting keeping up with all the stimuli but at the same time that is an attraction for us of the city---to do anything and as much as we want at anytime of day or night.

Before we decided to stay in the area, we would hear how in small towns the feeling of community was unavoidable. Well, it is true. We weren’t part of any clubs or organizations or Toastmasters or anything like that, but by the time we left, to no avail we would run into somebody at the yoghurt and milk section of Fred Meyers. It’s a comforting feeling knowing that the local crazy guy isn’t really that crazy or that the bag guy at Sentry’s will bust out a rhyme every time you see him, and knowing that by going to Sentry’s you are guaranteed a rhyme because that guy is always there. People are genuinely friendly because if they aren’t, you will go to that other feed store down the road to buy your duck pellets. We say hi to strangers and give the forefinger to passing drivers out of habit. We look people in the eye and say hello as we open the door for them. I still do these things in the city but people do not seem as receptive. I suppose it is because it’s just too much work when there are 7 people behind the guy you just opened the door for and to hold the door for all of them and to look them in the eye and say hi to all of them, well it’s just too much.

Being outdoors is huge for us and we are lucky that, even though Portland is a large metropolitan city, there are plenty of green spaces and parks around and walking is very enjoyable. The climate difference that the Cascades make on Central Oregon is huge. A normal wet day in Portland, in Bend you’ll have clear skies and sunshine. This makes outdoor opportunities plentiful and we rarely had to think about the weather when planning the next days hike—it was hardly disagreeable, except in those extreme months of January and August—too damn cold and way too damn hot. It was great having the outdoors so accessible too, and I find that sad when thinking of our move away. It sure doesn’t take much to get away from people in a place like Terrebonne, where we lived for 2 years. There is nothing like a quiet, meandering walk past deer, horses, flocks of flying geese, cattle, and crazy barking dogs, all surrounded by mountains and sagebrush and juniper. The smells and the feel of a spring day at Smith Rocks are indescribable. Oh and the stars! Those clear days bring a diamond filled sky that never fails to make you feel insignificant.

So why the hell did we leave this place?

Simple—we need culture in our lives. The culture of Central Oregon is interesting, but after 3 years, there isn’t much more culture we could squeeze out of the place. We went to rodeos, learned to irrigate, shopped at Big R, had blizzards at Dairy Queen, chain sawed our fire wood in the forest, rode in the back of pickups, BBQ’d like crazy, fished, swam in the reservoir (not drunk though!), dug fence posts, played on a softball team, and corralled cows that escaped from our field. Of course, there’s a few things we didn’t do like go shootin’ and water ski, but we did most of everything and learned as much as possible.

The lack of culture certainly wasn’t the only reason that we left, but was high on our list of importance for us. We could work dead-end jobs anywhere, but we might as well do it somewhere where there is more variety on offer. Traveling and free time are passions for us, and in our situation of work and mortgage, it was very suffocating in that respect. We had very “adult” responsibilities of work and home, and at this point in our lives Central Oregon was not a place for use. We are young, energetic, and a city or country that offers travel prospects and culture beyond John Day and Kayo’s Roadhouse seems important right now. And after 5 months of being away, I feel that we have made a good decision. I love and will forever love Central Oregon, but right now we are striving for goals of travel and fun…and progressing towards them is easier in a city where there is opportunity and risks can be taken with greater ease.

Our time in Central Oregon was valuable, and if anything it helped us focus on the most important things in our lives—treat everyone with respect, to be as free as possible, live as simple as possible, and have as much fun as possible.