Oregon!

We made it!! We are in Oregon, staying at Emigrant Springs State Park which has been our home base for exploring northeast Oregon for the last four days.

We have not, however, made it to the end of the Oregon Trail. The end of the trail – the destination of the emigrants – was the Willamette Valley, which is another 300 miles west of here.

This part of Oregon was not settled until the discovery of gold in the 1860s and is relatively sparsely populated today. The emigrants were just passing through here on their way west; no different really than present-day Nebraska, Wyoming or Idaho.

As the name implies the park encompasses a spring that was a favorite resting spot for the emigrants. The pine trees and cooler air of the Blue Mountains marked the end of the long trek across the desert that had essentially begun all the way back at Scottsbluff, Nebraska.

President Warren G. Harding came here in July, 1923 to dedicate a plaque honoring “the intrepid pioneers” that “saved the Oregon country to the United States.”

Saved? That’s an interesting way to characterize what was in fact a bald-faced theft of land in territory claimed by another country. 

When they crossed the continental divide back in present-day Wyoming the emigrants left the territory that the United States had even the slightest legitimate claim to.

What they did back then would not be unlike today having several hundred thousand Chinese suddenly “emigrate” to Guam, or American Samoa or Puerto Rico and establish farms and communities and then, a few years later, decide to make it a province of their country. Or imagine that the Russians had “emigrated” in mass to Alaska in the 1950s, before it became a state.We probably would not think of them as "pioneers"; yet, how would they be any different than the Oregon Trail emigrants?

In recent days Betsy has been astutely asking; why Oregon? Why did they pack up and travel 2,000 miles from Missouri to steal land from the Indians here when there was a lot of land much closer to Missouri that could have been “emigrated”?

We have not yet heard a crystal clear, concise answer to that question but part of the answer appears to be hype. Ever since Lewis and Clark reported on the broad, flat, fertile lands and temperate climate of the Willamette Valley – reports that were bolstered by subsequent trappers and explorers – the area gained an almost mythic status. When the bank panic of 1837 and subsequent recession/depression made life in the states more difficult - and the wagon route west became better defined – the rush began. While the U.S. government did not play an explicit role in promoting this migration there is no doubt that it did nothing to discourage the movement into the territory claimed by Britain.

This was justified, many had come to believe, because it was America’s "manifest destiny" - a term attributed to a New York newspaper editorial - to expand to the Pacific Ocean.

Betsy has closely bonded with several emigrant families on the Trail.

It will be a week or so before we get to the “official” end of the Oregon Trail in Oregon City (now suburban Portland), and another week after that before we get to the Pacific Ocean, but we have been planning the celebration. We’ve gotten kind of attached to these hardy emigrants and the difficult journey they made. We’ve also come to appreciate the effort that has gone into helping us understand and follow the trail.

That effort was begun in the early 20^th century by Ezra Meeker who came west on the trail with his parents and later spearheaded efforts to mark the trail. One of his early efforts resulted in the placement of a roadside marker here at Emigrant Springs. Thanks Ezra!

Really? These ruts were created by wagons 150 years ago and not by a Jeep last month? Hmmm.

Even though we had just arrived in Oregon we set our sights on looking back at Idaho across the Snake River at Hells Canyon. So we drove up a beautiful valley in the Wallowa Mountains to the artsy, laid-back town of Joseph, named for the Nez Perce chief that assisted early settlers and later tried, unsuccessfully, to stand up for his people when the U.S. reneged on a treaty because gold was discovered on the Indian's land.

Because of the distance and winding roads we decided to leave the trailer at Emigrant Springs and stay in a motel in Joseph. That allowed us time to do some hiking along the Imnaha River and check out some of the local breweries.

Betsy at the Blue Hole on the Imnaha River.

Dave does a double-take at the Hells Canyon Overlook.

Relaxing in downtown Joseph.

We also found time to take a tour of Valley Bronze, one of the country’s foremost producers of bronze art works.

It was fascinating to learn about this very complex, time-consuming process. I can’t say I fully understand all of the steps but the essential elements involve taking an art work – say something made out of clay – and then creating a hallow replica of that art work in a material that can be filled with 2,000-degree molten bronze. Larger pieces are done in sections which are then welded together.

Valley Bronze, for instance, did most of the bronze work for the WWII memorial in Washington and the Berlin Wall sculpture at the entrance to the Bush Museum in College Station. They specialize in animals and do many of the art works that you see at a Cabela’s or Bass Pro Shop. They employ about 50 people. 

After the tour we could better understand why some of the stuff in their retail store costs more than our truck. However, we limited our purchase to the $15 leaf pictured below. 

Our tour guide explains the complex process of creating bronze sculpture.

On our final day in this part of the state we descended back down into the desert on the other side (north) of the Blues to the town Pendleton, which is known for the woolen fabrics of the same name. 

We took a tour of the mill that was not nearly as well-done as Valley Bronze. It was interesting though to see the clattering looms.

We also drove out in the desert to a remote site to look at more wagon ruts, these were perhaps more believable than any of the others.

OK, OK. Maybe.

(Western) Idaho State Fair

It probably says something about this fair that our favorite part was the Oregon Visitors booth. Certainly we will arrive in Oregon today with our expectations for our five week stay sky high.

We are not sure exactly why Idaho has an eastern fair and a western fair...but I'll speculate.

My impression is that Idaho is divided into three population pods, none of which have much in common with the other and are separated by long distances, few roads and minimal air service.

The total population of the state is just over 1.5 million, which is less than Bexar County; and it has been stagnant for several years. More than one-third of Idahoans live here in Ada County (Boise) and an adjoining county to the west. There is a similar, but smaller, concentration in the southeast part of the state around Pocatello.

The northern panhandle portion of the state is even more isolated from Boise than the southeast and is in a different time zone. Generally, I think, the people in the north that want to go to a large city go to Spokane; the people in the southeast go to Salt Lake City and most of those that live in the southwest part of the state live in Boise. It's almost like three separate places that have little interaction with one another.

One thing Idahoans do have in common is race. Less than one percent are Black and about 11 percent are Hispanic. There are, however, lots of Mormons. Idaho has the second largest percentage of Mormons of any state; behind, of course, Utah. One in four Idahoans are Mormons and they are heavily concentrated in the southeast part of the state.

Whoops, I go sidetracked. Back to the (Western) Idaho State Fair.

It wasn't great, but it wasn't bad. If you looked really hard you could find an Idaho beer and an Idaho baked potato; both a real potato and ice cream made to look like a baked potato. Boise State had a huge presence and Betsy was able to score a nice 2010 Fiesta Bowl polo shirt for $5.

The real thing.

Ice cream.

The kids tractor pull.

Remembering Hank.

Betsy shows off her $5 Boise State shirt.

If this had cost $5 we might have bought it too.

Winning egg plant.

A whole lot of shakin.

Texans of a feather...

Speaking of feathers...a chicken washing demonstration.

 
 

Boise

White pelicans summer on the Snake River. Who knew?

Dave celebrates Manifest Destiny.

 

We had a full and interesting  Thursday, traversing the 200 miles or so from Massacre Rocks State Park to Boise on a hot, and increasingly smoky, day (a forest fire has been burning northeast of Boise for several days).

The remains of the Minidoka interment camp.

Our first stop along the way, the Minidoka National Historic Site, is not easy to find; especially when pulling a trailer. After some odd detours we eventually made it to the site of the largest forced relocation in U.S. history, where Japanese-Americans were placed in detention during World War II.

From there we went to the Hagerman Fossil Beds NM where the bones of the now-extinct horse-like creature known as the Hagerman Horse are found in great abundance. 

Something we did not expect to find is that this park has a nice road that leads to a high bluff where the Oregon Trail route and some ruts can be seen. Because it’s a national park Betsy says that I am supposed to believe that these really are Oregon Trail ruts and not just somebody’s overactive imagination.

150 years later Oregon Trail ruts, really?

Finally we made it to Boise and, even thought it was about 6 p.m. when we finally got settled into our slot in a KOA-like RV park, we somehow found time to:

1. Visit the state capitol.
2. Give directions to Lewis & Clark
3. Enjoy a great meal washed down with some great Idaho beers at a downtown tap house.
4. Watch the final outs of the (low) Class A Boise Hawks minor league victory over the Eugene Emeralds.

Don't listen to that Indian; the Pacific Ocean is that way! Also, why are you wearing a mini-skirt?

On a whim we stopped in for the (free) ninth inning and a photo with Humphrey the Hawk.

This is only the second time I have been to Boise but I am very impressed. This is a nice city of 200,000. The capitol is beautiful, the downtown is hopping, there are at least two local breweries, it’s clean and easy to get around, and it has two Costcos. 

I could live here.

Idaho

After a comfortable night (temps into the mid-40s) in Rock Springs at the KOA next to the huge gasoline holding tanks that served as our buffer from busy Interstate 80; we proceeded west toward Idaho on U.S. 30, the Lincoln Highway that was the first in the U.S. to connect the East and West Coasts (New York to San Francisco).

We stopped in at Fossil Butte National Monument, home to one of the world’s premier sites for fish fossils.

We soon re-joined the Oregon Trail (apparently the emigrants saw no reason to detour to Rock Springs) and, with the help of our guide book, continued to learn about the Trail.

The photo is of Big Hill, which many emigrants described as the steepest they had so far encountered. The ruts from where they locked the wheels on the wagons and slid down the hill are still visible in some places. Using binoculars, we think we saw them.

U.S. 30 closely follows the Trail as it winds through the mountains of southeastern Idaho toward the Snake River Valley. Just like the emigrants we will follow this valley toward Boise and, soon after that, Oregon!

Although the valley is relatively flat and there is plenty of water in the river this was a difficult segment for the emigrants because the valley is a desert and they typically reached this area in mid-summer and the water is often inaccessible because of the high, steep cliffs. 

Furthermore, when the water was accessible that often meant there would be a difficult crossing. We are puzzled why they didn’t use Interstate 84 to cross the desert like we plan to do?

By the time we reached the delightfully-named Massacre Rocks State Park in mid-afternoon the temperature was in the mid-90s, the hottest we’ve experienced since the first days of the trip.

The park gets its name from an incident in which Shoshone Indians and/or white bandits dressed as Indians attacked and killed 10 emigrants. These attacks were not that common but they got a lot of attention when they did occur. The biggest killer of emigrants was, by far, was cholera.

Even though the park is hard by I-86 it is also bordered by the beautiful Snake River and we snagged a nice camping spot on a high bluff with a great view of the river (and the interstate and the windmill farm beyond). 

We had enough time to hike through the tumbleweeds to a spot that (supposedly) still has traces of the ruts from the emigrant wagons.

The sunset, the stars at night, the sunrise this morning were all beautiful and the temperature dropped quickly in the dry air for a very pleasant evening. Without a doubt this is our best camping stop so far on the Oregon Trail.