Places with Faces

I wouldn’t have missed Mitchell, Oregon for the world although it's so small, I almost did. We are in the high desert. Ponderosa Pines and hot bright air. Mitchell is one of those broken down little towns that exist as a pit stop on the way to somewhere else. Pop.190. It’s got the crazy charm of a town that tries to entertain without putting on airs. (No cell phone coverage here. They’re a little apologetic about that.) A bear named Henry lives in a cage next to the gas station with era 1960 gas pumps. Everyone in Mitchell has a story because no one would choose to live here unless circumstances prevailed. I spent quite a while with Judy who is busy selling off the artifacts of the town. She was raised on one of the biggest sheep ranches in the United States. First husband didn’t work out so good. She met her second husband when she was waitressing and spilled two drinks in his lap. They’ve been married for 18 years. I bought a doorknob. It was the only thing I could afford.

We are camping in the city park for free with 4 or so other bikers. While we were finishing up dinner, a woman (we found out later her name was Doris) came to the park with her dog. He would jump straight up in the air and grab a mouth full of leaves. If he chomped onto a branch strong enough he would dangle from the tree by his mouth, tying to wrestle the branch out of the tree. We have pictures. She was reading a old worn copy of Jane Eyre so I knew she was a kindred spirit and we chatted like old friends.

For those of you who might be worried about me going another night without a shower, I do have a way to wash up that is quite satisfactory. It involves a large plastic tote, a bucket, and about 3 gallons of rinse water and a plastic cup. Not quite the same as a hot shower but it works in a pinch.

The high desert is quite beautiful. I can’t believe all the variety of climates in Oregon. They have something for everyone.

Peace,
Mary