Jump. Fly. Land.

The Stories of This Vagabond

The Beauty in the West

Hi Gram!

Sorry I haven’t written as often lately. I’ve been taking in so many wonderful sites and experiences with friends, and the internet connection was often slow or non-existent at times. The drive down from Portland was fun with songs blasting from the radio, hills and trees in the background, and clouds making every shape imaginable up above.

My friend Orion and his girlfriend Robin lived in San Francisco up until last year before moving to Oregon. They got tired of the hustle and bustle and city crowds, and they really went to the opposite extreme! Their closest neighbors now are bears, mountain lions, and birds. Cell phone service drops out completely about half an hour away, and they suggest you download the map to your phone before you leave the interstate. The two-lane road winds and curves up the mountain, sometimes cut from rock on either side of the road, sometimes hugging the hill on one side and dropping hundreds of feet on the other with no guard rail. Logging roads shoot off every now and then up into the forest, forming long intricate veins through the trees. Their owners come back every 35-40 years to repair the roads, clear cut a section of the hillside, plant a new forest of saplings to grow, and leave the roads to wait another few decades for those saplings to mature into hearty lumber.

I was headed there to spend some time with a friend that I’ve barely seen in years, and take a few days to hopefully take in some of the fresh air and disconnect from the digital world. I turned off the road onto what looked like a gravel driveway, where the map told me I should find my friends. They came out to meet me with intentional, powerful hugs, and welcomed me to their new home, the Lucky Stars Ranch. I’ve seen places as majestic as this in the movies, but never in real life. A few cabins/ sheds scattered around, a steel container to keep the bears away, and a campfire in the middle of it all for the cool winter nights. I unloaded my bags and changed into my Carhartt jacket so I’d be ready for a walk in the woods. We sat around and chatted for a bit while they told me some of their history and I drank down some water, then Orion and I headed into the woods. We had a few objectives on this little hike; he wanted to show me the size of the property, show off some of its features such as the fresh spring they would be getting their water from, get an idea of how he planned to lay out some of the landscaping, and hunt for mushrooms.

The woods of western Oregon are damp, cool, shaded, and have a very diverse biome in the underbrush beneath the trees, making it a prime spot for all kinds of mushrooms. Many are poisonous or just taste awful, but there are a few varieties that are prized by chefs and delicious to add to soups, garnish your dishes, or thicken a stew. Orion and Robin have been educating themselves about all the different varieties, growing seasons, where to find them, how to identify the good ones, and how to discern between the true good ones and those that are just cheap copycats.

I haven’t had that kind of fun since I was a kid! We were climbing hills, rummaging through the underbrush, finding unusual sticks and tree stumps. Orion would get excited to spot a mushroom he hadn’t seen before and drop to his knees to dig out the dirt around it and expose this latest find for pictures. I would point at a mushroom I’d spotted and ask him about it, only to find out that it was past its prime or poisonous. That didn’t stop me from looking, though, and I could feel myself getting “the fever” as they call it, hoping to find the next great treasure. Orion was looking at the base of a tree stump, and got excited when he found chunks of what looked like a giant mushroom. I walked over to see what he was excited about and got there just in time for him to stand up and see the source of these chunks. It was a “chicken of the woods” and was probably as big as five of his hands. It was a little slimy, indicating that we’d missed the prime by a few days, but we got pictures and he noted where we found it, planning to be ready for it next year when it sprouts again.

Surrounding their land are hundreds or thousands of acres owned by logging companies or the wildlife service. They all grant permission to anyone to go on their land for hiking, mushroom hunting, minimal camping, and game hunting. There are strict rules, such as no fires, no trash, leave the earth as you found it, and for the most part people respect the land. Every now and then, we found an old beer can that had probably been there for months or years, but otherwise the land was pristine. We each carried a can of bear spray, and I saw why. We found bear tracks big and small, not to mention some from deer, mountain lions, and smaller fauna. Bear spray is basically really powerful pepper spray, intended to make the bear think “nevermind them, I can find dinner that doesn’t hurt so much somewhere else!” We didn’t come across any bears on my visit, but they showed me some video of a bear up in a tree not far from their storage container. He didn’t look like he had a care in the world, just climbing trees looking for some fruit or whatever food he could find.

After an hour or so, we made our way back to the cabin and started a fire. Robin had a pork roast going in the slow cooker that smelled great and made us hungry for dinner that wasn’t going to be ready just yet. We passed the time with stories and memories and passed around a bottle of champagne they’d been saving for the next friend to visit. We took turns feeding the fire, although they were both much more skilled at making a good fire than I was. It felt great to sit around and laugh with friends, no phone calls or text messages to interrupt us. The sky was mostly clear and the stars shown brighter than they do back home, although the trees obscured much of our view. Eventually, dinner was ready and we headed inside to a fantastic meal. The pulled pork was tender and juicy, the beets provided a nice contrast, and we feasted like triumphant warriors and shared more stories well into the night. My eyelids started to get heavier and heavier after such an exciting day, so they showed me where I’d be sleeping and I quickly passed out.

Orion and I woke in the morning, got heaters going in the kitchen and a fire going in the wood burning stove, then got some hot water going for some coffee and tea. We talked about the day ahead while Robin rustled from her slumber, and we were presented with a mystery. There were red spots in a few places that looked like drops of blood. We both checked our hands and arms to see if we’d been cut and hadn’t noticed. Orion checked the windows and door to make sure an animal couldn’t have gotten in. We were trying to figure it out for a few minutes when Orion’s face lit up. “We had beets last night!” The red drops were just juice from last night’s dinner. We laughed about that and told Robin the story when she joined us later. Eager to see some of their other mushroom spots and logging roads, Orion fired up the truck and we went for a little drive. I got to see their favorite swimming hole, a spot in the nearby river where a log had fallen and blocked the other driftwood and left a deep spot just past it for jumping into. We drove up a logging road that seemed to go on forever until we were at a clearing that showed the hillsides off in the distance with brown clear cut squares where it looked like the hill had been shaven to get ready for surgery.

We saw workers planting the new saplings that would eventually grown to mighty trees. We went walking through a few areas looking for mushrooms, especially looking for White Oregon Truffles. Truffles are hard to find because they grow entirely underground, barely under the surface. You have to find a tree within a certain age range, with the right amount of duff – the springy spongy undergrowth – and the right conditions. People have trained dogs and pigs to sniff them out, but we only had Orion’s knowledge and determination to dig through the dirt with hopes of a reward. We didn’t find any that day, but we did see some white corral around the area and a few other species that I was coming to learn about. Empty-handed, we headed back to the estate to meet up with Robin and plan our day.

Robin cooked up some eggs and sausage while the three of us discussed a few of the options we’d come up with the night before. We decided to head over to the coast to see the ocean and a few attractions they hadn’t been to yet. After we polished off our delicious proteins and had our fill of coffee and tea, they fired up the bigger truck and let it warm while we went around and made sure everything was shut down and locked up. Our first stop was to be a natural cave where sea lions nest. The thing about driving from a remote spot in the woods to a gigantic cave on the ocean is that the only route between them is through stunning scenery. We drove past trees that were furry with moss and lichen, around huge hills wearing coats of evergreen conifers, and along a winding watercourse which narrowed from a stream near their ranch into a wide river carrying fishing boats and barges. The road looped back and forth, following the river, rising above and away, then finding its way back down to race alongside it.

We started to see signs of civilization with shops and marinas as we got closer to the coast until we came upon the sea lion cave. The area around the cave has been owned by the same family for decades. Researchers and scientists come to study the habits of a few species of lions, who take turns using the caves at different times of the year. They have a little gift shop up top where you pay admission and buy fudge, trinkets and t-shirts. This leads to a trail that winds down the cliff overlooking the ocean with stops along the way to look through binoculars, take pictures of the lighthouse in the distance, and feel the energy of the waves crashing against the shore. The trail brought us to an elevator that descends twenty stories to the cave below. Years ago, the only way to get down there was a winding, harrowing boardwalk that looped back and forth down the cliff, then down a ladder to the cave entrance. The elevator opened up the possibility for many more people to get to the cave and view the sea lions in their natural habitat. We walked out of the elevator into an open area with signs describing the different types of sea lions, and a fence from floor to ceiling where you could view the cave below. There were probably a hundred or more sea lions on the rocks and up the ledges down there. Some of them were just sunning themselves near the entrance, there were moms nursing their young while dad postured and protected them, and young and old play-fighting and rolling in the waters enjoying themselves. Waves would roll in and out, and every now and then a big wave would come crashing in, covering everyone that was lying lower on the rocks. We got some pictures, then headed up a crack in the rock that led up to another vantage point looking out on the sea. The nice thing about going to these spots in the winter is that they’re not crowded with kids and tourists on their summer vacation. We saw maybe a dozen other people the whole time we were down there, and everyone was friendly and polite. We worked our way back up to the gift shop, where we were suckered into buying fudge and souvenirs before we left.

We headed down the coast a little to the dunes national park. Orion parked the truck and we started our trek up a trail of sand leading up a hill. Cresting the top of the hill, the ocean and miles of sandy beaches stretched out in front of us. The tide was out, so we made our way down to the beach and walked along the water’s edge. The water lapped in and out to approximately the same spot for the most part, but every minute or so, a larger wave would wash in and chase us back up the beach. It made for a fun game, where we’d be looking at our feet for shells and driftwood when one of us would yell “here comes the water!” and we’d all look up to see it and start running away. There were thousands of shells, most of them broken and discolored. Each of us would pick one up that looked promising, then discard it when a piece was broken off or we found a hole in the middle. When we found good specimen, it would get passed around and admired, then discarded back to the beach. The driftwood came in all shapes and sizes. I collected a couple pieces that were two or three hands long, but we saw long skinny pieces that could hold up a tent and enormous tree trunks longer than a semi trailer and thicker than a Buick. I would love to take home one of those gigantic pieces and carve some furniture from it, but it would crush my car, not to mention I don’t even know how we’d get it over the dune back to the truck.

With the sun starting to set, we found our way back to parking lot and headed into town nearby. The road was lined with restaurants and shops, with each eatery displaying their menu in the front window. We bounced from place to place, deciding between the choices and ended up at a fancy restaurant. We sat at the bar, chatting with the bartender and recounting our day. Dinner was a delicious assortment of pasta dishes, rabbit, and seafood. We all saved room for dessert, having seen the mouth watering cakes on display when we walked in. Unable to decide between them, we each ordered a slice of a different cake, then passed them back and forth comparing our favorites and ultimately boxing up the leftovers since our eyes were bigger than our stomachs. We walked down to the docks to see the historic bridge above, then made our way inland back to their private getaway.

Thursday morning, we took our time in the morning, enjoying the moderate weather and beautiful surroundings. We stopped by a few other of their spots to see if any mushrooms had sprouted. The first spot didn’t provide anything, not even any hints of what was to come or any fungi beyond their prime. It was fun crawling around through the brush and low hanging branches like I did as a kid, but eventually we headed back to the truck and moved on to the next spot. This one wasn’t as dense, with more mature trees spaced further apart, more like walking through a farmer’s grove than through an overgrown jungle. We saw that other people had been there recently, ranking aside the top layer looking for truffles. I don’t know if they found any, but I could tell they had poor etiquette. It’s widely understood that if you pull dirt and underbrush aside in your search, make sure it’s pushed back so the different biomes and systems can continue to thrive. These guys had raked away the material and just left it piled to the side. Orion pointed out fields of white coral and other fungi, most either too young or too old, but we found a few handfuls to bring home and cook up. This was prime territory for truffles, though, and that’s where his concentration was focused. Scanning the trees and earth before him, he’d look for trees that were the right age and diameter, with a soft tuft built up around them, facing the right direction. He’d find a target and drop to his knees, digging through the top few inches. Not entirely sure about what he was looking for, but with a general idea, he’d dig something up and roll it around in his fingers before throwing it to the side or, in rare instances, get a grin and big eyes as he placed it in the bag. Once he’d find a gem near one tree, it seems like he found three or four more right away before petering out and having to replace the duff and move on to the next tree. He kept telling me we should get back to Robin, then decide to check “just one more tree.” He definitely caught the fever that day and we found probably 30 or more little white-ish eggs that could be truffles. Seeing the time, we made our way back to the truck and headed back to the homestead. He ran in excitedly to show Robin what he’d found and they got out the book for comparison and took some pictures to send to their group asking for opinions of the more experienced hunters in their tribe. Unfortunately, there are a few mushrooms that are imposters, and most of the haul were those imitators. One large and one small sample were genuine white Oregon truffles, which we set aside to cook up later.

With that excitement behind us, we decided to load up the truck and head into Eugene to show me around town and try out a few of their favorite local establishments. We ran a couple errands first, then made our way to a tiny pub where it seemed everybody in there knew the two of them. I had a delicious sandwich and a couple pints of a local berry cider while we alternated between the bar and the patio out back, meeting their friends and playing with a dog. From there, we headed to a whiskey bar where a friend of theirs was working. It was cool community with a few bars and restaurants sharing the same roof. We sat and chatted with their bartender friend, occasionally having food delivered from a neighboring diner as old friends and new acquaintances shuffled in and out. I really enjoyed the laid back environment all day and got to meet some great people. Tired from the past few days, we headed home where I was fast asleep. I knew I would be getting up early to head down the coast a little further, so I didn’t fight my eyelids as they got heavier and heavier. The next morning, I got up early and packed the car while Robin and Orion sliced up the truffles and cooked them up with some scrambled eggs. I finished my visit with a feast that made me feel like a king, hugged each of them goodbye, then headed down the coast.


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