Failure is where we learn the most.
Faith Dickey (professional highliner)
My friend Maralyn is a friend from Seattle. I first met her as a freshman in Colorado College. This happened, shall we say, over 50 years ago. She is as I describe, a poor starving artist who is one of the most delightful people you could ever meet. She has gone to this little hotel in Frenchglen, Oregon for over 40 years as a little retreat. This year she invited us and we made the time available, mid to end September. I checked for reservations and alas very full, and this was May_June. Geez who thinks that far ahead? But got them and on waiting list for Friday night, which was successful two weeks prior to our arrival.
Then, one of my cousins, while visiting this summer said we needed to come visit, enticing us with a baseball game at Wrigley Field, in Chicago. I have been to one- half of a game in St, Louis. OK-it seemed we could tack it on to the Frenchglen trip. Then there is the “family cabin which my cousin Tom has in mid Wisconsin, not too far. Well the trip has ballooned into a huge visiting people. to be revealed. Jeanne flew into San Francisco, rented a car, and drove to a friends house to visit in Gilroy, the garlic capital of the world. Then to friends near Yosemite National Park where she worked and lived for 4 years. Two days there and on to another friend who used to live in Alaska and now is a campground host.
Jeanne picked me up in Reno, Nevada Thursday night. Friday we drove to Frenchglen, a small unincorporated town in southern Oregon. It is near the Malheur Wildlife refuge. A drive of about 380 miles(611 kilometer) made in about 6 1/2 hours, stopping Winnemucca, Nevada to visit more friends. Driving north, I recognized the area as a desert. It was transitioning into high desert, similar to Southern Idaho where I spent grades 1-8 going to school there.


Frenchglen hotel
I did learn that it is not really what I called a high desert – sagebrush, cold winters, hot summers, very dry. It is not a desert which by definition is very little precipitation. Frenchglen gets about 15” (38cm) of precipitation a year, similar to(slightly less) than Anchorage, Salt Lake City. Seattle gets about 40″ (101cm). It snows a lot in the winter in Frenchglen and the Steens Mtn. scenic loop does not open until late May or later, due to snow. Turns out sagebrush requires too much water to live in a desert. Thus the area is actually called a shrub steppe. Whoopee.
We stayed at the Frenchglen hotel, registered on the National Historic register since 1924. A delightful place, although as with old wooden hotels, one wants to check the fire escapes when you move in. Meals are family style, which leads to wonderful conversations, with what I would call an eclectic group. There were several artists. They worked in oils, watercolors, and wood. A couple worked in environmental areas. They also occasionally worked in theatre as performers and directors. A seismologist, a geologist, and an architect were also present. One lady had worked in Los Angeles as an accountant. She tired of being inside, and her family was in Oregon. She quit her job, became a truck driver, and moved near Astoria, Oregon. A variety of people and delightful conversations.

The last morning, Maralyn and I were watching the sunrise from the front porch when a pickup truck pulled up. An apparent local then came in, and Maralyn and I hit him up before the front door was closed. Delightful character answering our numerous questions concerning ranching in the area. His job for the day was transporting 3 truckloads of hay to a ranch farther north. The big round rolls of hay. We learned a huge amount about hay and bailing it up, transporting for the winter. The coffee finally finished, and we all had to precede with our day.
But driving there one looks out and goes “there is nothing here, what have I signed up for” But I knew it is a “desert”, and what there is there, is definitely hiding and one has to look to see. Deserts are full of life. You just have to open up. Look as if you were in the desert, not as a human. Fascinating places but these areas require a change of attitude to see the glories.
The first day everyone proceeded to their own destinations. First I queried the geologist on the local geology. Geologists are generally incredibly passionate about geology, and almost always are willing to share their knowledge. This one very much so. I got a quick and dirty semi advanced geology lesson of lava flows, basalts, and such.
Jeanne and I drove the Center Patrol Road (CPR) sort of down the middle of Blitzen River Valley. Stopping to view turkey vultures, ranches, the river, drainage ditches, and efforts to control invasive critters and weeds.
Then came the visitor center at Malheur wildlife refuge. the visitor center was closed, not for lack of visitors or any known reason. But the book store and nature center was open and the volunteer there was delightful and informative.
We proceeded to the narrows between some ponds and viewed all sorts of birds. I am not much at identifying birds, but it is fascinating watching them. We hoped to see the western grebes dancing across the top of the water. Unfortunately, they just wanted to run about the water. Stopped at Diamond Craters Outstanding Natural Areas too view volcanic result
Sunday, Maralyn and Mary, who attended Colorado College with me and have maintained close contact ever since, along with Jeanne, drove the Steens Mountain Loop. The road is a 60 mile (100 k) loop. It goes from Frenchglen, which is at 4200 feet elevation (1280 meters), and rises to 9500 feet (2895 meters). Several canyons originate near the summit ridge. The aspen trees were beginning to change colors. But the best part was to spend a wondrous day with these three ladies.



Boxed Lunchs

Monday, most people were departing, making room for a new set of visitors. Jeanne and I headed south. We went off course once to visit the Alvord Desert. It’s below Steens Mountain on the opposite side from Frenchglen. Stopped at Fields at the one store and got a milk shake. A repeat of the drive up, a long 6 hour drive to Reno. We visited Neva, who had come up to visit this summer. We delivered a photo book and video of her trip to Alaska this past summer. She is 13 years old and had spent 10 days with us.
It was a long day. I fell asleep early and long. Now in Carson City, Nevada visiting another good friend.