Oregon - Coming Home

Thompson Pass - Willamette National Forest

Dear Friends,

I have to go back a couple days. I spent Sunday night in some Idaho motel and by Monday evening I was cruising through downtown Bend, Oregon, a city of 80,000 - with perfect old brick turn of the last century buildings, trendy shops, art galleries and exotic restaurants, tucked into a very healthy looking city center - covering several blocks - with shade trees and a river running through it. Beautiful. It was after six when I arrived, and I wasn't hungry, and didn't want to stay in a motel. If I had I would have had trouble deciding what great looking restaurant to eat at. I did go to awonderful Whole Foods/type market - which was smaller but much nicer than Whole Foods. Made me want to buy all sorts of food I didn't need. Heading West and about twenty miles into the forest is a town called Sisters - it reminded me of Taos, but different. Taos was all adobe. Sisters looked like a designer town - perfectly laid out with only frontier buildings - all nestled in the pines. The perfect tourist town.

I spent Monday night under the tall Ponderosa Pines in the Willamette National Forest, not far from Thompson Pass. The United States is incredibly scenic, and I have passed through some amazing places - it is hard to rate the beauty of Mother Earth. I particularly love the pines. More than anything I love mountain pines and babbling brooks. So I have to say that the most stunningly beautiful place I had been on my whole journey was right there in the Willamette National Forest.

The Willamette National Forest was exactly what I was looking for in the Great Smoky Mountains of North Carolina. I'm sure its there by I never saw it like this. This was the first unobstructed 40 mile drive through pristine forests and rivers I had been on. Remarkably, there were no houses or stores - nothing by National Forest campgrounds and trails. Wooden bridges placed here and there went half-way over the river - just for the tourist's enjoyment of looking down. Plenty of places to stop and take pictures. In fact, once I got down to the bottom of mountain I wanted to turn around and go back up. The only reason I didn't was because my camera died - and of course there was no store to buy batteries. Some places just soothe the soul - and this was one of those places for me.

It's mid-September. The campground was empty. It was just me and the trees and the incredible silence. There isn't anything quite like being high in the mountains, with a refreshing chill in the air - cooking fried potatoes, eggs and toast - a blue cup of fresh brewed coffee in hand. Ahh. I think it would only have been better if I had a loved one to share the ahhh with.

After breakfast, I drove two hours to Corvallis, Oregon, where I graduated from High School in 1965. Which at this moment seems impossible from my current perspective. 45 years! On my way there I wondered why I had never been to Willamette National Forest, or even Albany which is only 11miles away. Then I remembered. I didn't have a car in high school. I could borrow my parents Cadillac or VW to go to the store or cruise some weekends - but take a road trip? No way. When I first came to Corvallis in 1962 I wanted to meet people, so in August I tried out for the football team. I had never played football in my life - and suddenly this 120 pound sophomore kid was being bowled over by 200 pound Senior linebackers. "Get up, Allison! Be a man!" Shit - what was wrong with being a boy?

After a week or so I couldn't get up. Literally. That was the end of my football career. In my Senior year one of the boys actually died in football practice - but I guess it was worth it - they were No.1 in the state of Oregon that year. The coach was a Nazi - but he did give me A's in PE all through High School - wondering why I didn't stick to it. He thought I had potential, even though I was trying out for running back next to his son - who ended up being All-State and college All-American. Anyway - unlike my visit to my Junior High in Columbus, Ohio - which looked just like I remembered it 50 years before - they recently mowed down the historic Corvallis High School - which was at least 50 years old in 1965 - and replaced it with a modern version. Below is the incarnation of the same place where I was almost died.

From Corvallis I went to McMinnville, where my Grandfather started a business called Pacific Reflex Signs back in 1949. Five brothers inherited it when he died in 1962 - and since they were remote owners, all sorts of shenanigans took place - manager after manager who invented ways to report income, if you know what I mean. Long story - but amazing that they are still in business 61 years later. Now the cousins, sons and daughters of the four brothers (one of the five did time as a manager) are inheriting the struggling business. I hadn't been there in about 40 years when I walked in the door yesterday and introduced myself as one of the Allison's. I told them that as an artist I had been thinking of ideas for the business for 30 years - but my father didn't want to hear it. Unfortunately. By the time I left, the gals working there offered me an office, all the computers and graphic equipment I wanted - to help them save the business and their jobs. I may just do that.

Tomorrow I'll write about my night in the Poor House - and my return to Seattle.

With love and blessings, David Dakan Allison