Why here? My husband and I moved to this small Eastern Oregon town 3 1/2 years ago. It was almost a cliché. He came home from a motorcycle adventure, the Hells Canyon Motorcycle Rally, and announced, “You have to see this place”. Our friends, who had also been on the trip, were already searching for property. I had driven by on the gritty, truck rutted I-84 a few times, often late at night and usually commented how beautiful the snow capped mountain scenery appeared.
It never occurred to me we would seriously uproot and move within a few months. Particularly, as after 20 years of marriage we had just completed my dream kitchen remodel complete with real Hickory cabinets and starry night black granite countertops with copper flecks and an arty dangle light over the expansive cooking surface and wine sipping area. Especially, as my husband was known to hate moving and treated his home purchased 34 years before as his man cave and sanctuary. You could have made a Las Vegas bet with odds of a million to one, that he would never move. Really. Just ask his best friends and relatives.
Why here. To some eyes, it’ s a small town with few job prospects, no mall, big diesel trucks with unleashed dogs in the back, and dodgy looking fella’s squinting in the bright sun ,occupying sidewalk corners, staring as the outsiders BMW convertible zips past on Main street. Throw in the occasional hoarder’s contraption filled yard (a metal scrap man’s dream) and you can see why a person barely passing through with big city eyes might keep on passing.
Here is where I nearly fell out of my sandals laughing the first several times someone actually stopped so I could cross the street; no crosswalk light required. And then the teenaged kid revving his truck loudly rolled down his window and apologized, saying it kept dying on him and he was just trying to get it home. And the people passing by on a riverside walk looked me in the eye, smiled, and said Good Morning. I actually existed.
Here is where I found a coffee shop, with people interested in who was new in town, and where you had traveled and what you might want to see next. The coffee was terrific, and yes, they could make a non-fat no foam Latte. Here is where the bookstore has an amazing collection of history and mystery and new best sellers and old timer’s memoirs. The library is modern and beautiful and striving to serve every community member.
It turns out that most of the fella’s on the corner were squinting because it was sunny that day and they don’t own fancy Oakley shades, and were leery of stepping boldly out in front of the tourist who didn’t know it was only polite to let pedestrians cross the street even if you had a green light. The dog in the truck was likely either Mr. Jones well mannered farm dog, or one of the future assistance dogs being trained in town. The dress shop and the gift stores have more than enough beautiful pretties to satisfy all but a shopaholics cravings. The jewelry stores have stunning and original pieces, as well as the tasteful and affordable. The groceries are stocking locally grown and organic produce next to favorite staples. The constable may even give a newcomer a pass at the confusing cross lanes on 10th and Hughes Lane. The first time.
Here is where 20 minutes gets you to Huckleberry bushes and pristine reservoirs. Here, a heron rookery, bluebird trail, and peregrine nests are common but no less awe inspiring. If you name all the bird and wildlife you see in a day here, the “ditchsiders” are likely to think you are lying. Here, the man with the junk in his yard, is very likely to offer to find you just the right part for that old lawnmower you need.
Here is where your neighbor will come over and help you tear off the old leaky gutters on your house; before you fall off the ladder. They offer to pick up your newspaper and feed your cat when you have to leave town. No charge, although a cup of coffee would be welcome.
Here is where your kids can still ride their bikes and play in the park. Here the historic Movie theatre, named after the original owners's wife (but spelled backwards we explain), still has Sugar Babies and Whoppers. Here, an inspiring arts community allows anyone to try their hand at crafting, Or you can just admire and it’s no big deal to rub shoulders with a painter and a potter. And the 360 degree view of snow capped mountains are beautiful.
Here is not Utopia. Things happen. Bad people are still bad people. Here people do have different strong opinions. But here, it is still your right to be your own person, be respected, and the coffee to be hot and the conversation to be lively. Stop in. You might even pack up and move here.
