November 8, 2009

Contest winner shares her history dream trip

By Debra Holbrook
For The Chronicle

     Editor’s note: Debra Holbrook of Shaniko won a week on the Oregon Statehood Wagon Train in a contest publicized in The Dalles Chronicle this summer. Here is an abridged account of her travels through the wilds of central Oregon. The second winner of the contest suffered an injury just days prior to the event and was unable to participate. The Chronicle extends its thanks to the anonymous sponsor who made this possible.

Sept. 3, Day One
     Two hours of sleep. My mind would not quiet itself and I do not know how much of the two hours I actually slept. Got up at 3 a.m. With five cumbersome items and strong coffee, my husband, Hugh, drove me away into the dark at 3:30. For me it was driving into the unknown. It was happening!
     So much was still unsettled in my mind, probably much like in days of old. I wondered if “all my worldly goods” were going to be enough? I knew I hadn’t asked enough questions. One very important one, once we got to Condon was, “Where is the wagon train?”
     The town was a little bigger than I remembered, having only visited once. It was dark, not one business open, not one person to ask. Driving around, we found the fairgrounds and wee morning activity due to an event taking place, thus also finding a sleeping wagon train.
     Quietly, we drove up and stopped. Moments later we met Bill Vixie. He was expecting me and it was 5:30. I was right on time. A few minutes later people were about feeding the animals in the corrals of the rodeo arena. The morning routine had begun - one I had yet to learn.
     I learned that the horse trailer (a support vehicle) would carry our belongings from camp to camp. I kept a small carry-on with items (camera and journal etc.) needed for the day.
     During the morning activity we met Steve Palmquist from Wisconsin. He told us about Kelly who had “rode in front of the runaway stagecoach that nearly knocked his horse down.”
     Kelly Collins is from the John Day area and is point man, the rider out in front of the wagons.
     I learned that the job of loading our things was one Cindy, Steve’s wife, liked to do. So, feeling he could help me no more, my husband bid me farewell.
The air was very cool and I knew I was going to miss my old faithful down-filled coat if I was going to be up before the sun every day of the next seven.
     Breakfast was a delicious trail version of an egg McMuffin. The meal was prepared by train participants as the camp cook was late from a home visit. For a time I observed and made journal notes — fitting for my chosen character, a photojournalist!
     I formally met Cindy at breakfast, along with Sharon McNarmara from Maryland. Amazing to me that the states Wisconsin and Maryland would be represented on an Oregon statehood-themed wagon train. To me they would represent those coming west for the first time to a new land and a new life.
     The late arrival to breakfast was Charlotte Hopkins. She looked as she did on the YouTube video clip I saw when the train was at Antone. Her little dog was named Rusty (male). My little Rusty (female) had just left with my husband. They were the same Chihuahua breed, different coloring. We had our first bond.
     She said dressing in 1859 fashion took long to get in. I helped her get her things to the trailer so she could come and eat. I learned Charlotte was in the stagecoach when it ran away.
     This day an article was coming out about the wagon train in the Oregonian. I had contacted a friend about getting the article for me. The train had just learned about it and was getting several copies in town before we left. Maybe I’d get to read it sooner!
     I was assigned to the third wagon. It was about a hundred years old. Emma and Dinah were the mules that would pull it along. I climbed aboard having gotten some advice as to how to get in. Wow, it was high. I think adrenaline got me up.      I checked out the inside of my new ride. The seat was fitted on the wagon sides by brackets. The leaves of the springs were to give some cushion, comfort.      Comfort may be the wrong word. I’ll find that out on the 20 or so miles to Fossil today.
     For those here, it would be the second visit to Fossil. The wagon train had come to Condon from Fossil on the Sept. 1 for the school children, a few of which visited camp this morning before going to school.
     Broke camp at 8:30, looking at 20 miles of hard road, literally.
     Bill Vixie, the Wagonmaster, is driving the girls. His GPS machine said they were walking about 3.8 mph. Sitting on the seat was like sitting in a flat-nosed vehicle without a windshield. I knew if I fell asleep I’d fall out the front of the wagon. The seat was narrow and there was no footrest, but the boards of the wagon box. A modern-day cool box did the trick. The wagons were empty with the exception of the Vixie children’s sleeping bags and homework. Today this wagon would be the school one. We passed by some grocery workers.
     With steel shoes hitting the trail, we noisily rolled along. Point man Kelly Collins slowed traffic coming at us and the slow sign on the potty trailer behind us slowed upcoming cars. The paved road travel made me a little nervous. The outriders filed into their positions. Cindy Palmquist rode behind the last wagon, her husband Steve was driving the first wagon today. Cindy was ponying his horse as he usually rode in the middle of the train.
     I learned we would gain a stagecoach in a few days.
     Wind funneled through the canyons and kept wanting to take my hat off.
     The blue wagon and the girls belong to Bill Vixie’s brother, who will join up with us soon. We are about a dozen today. Kelly Collins, Vixie 4, Palmquist 2 and Gary the cook, Charlotte, Sharon and myself, ok eleven.
     We nooned at Mayville. The town was settled in the 1870s and called Clyde, for a local blacksmith. Its official name was changed to Mayville when it received the post office in 1884. In 1885, the still-standing 100F Hall was built after a fire destroyed the first one. Lunch was spent at the old Stinchfield house. The family’s original log cabin stands near and behind the big house. We had a group photo taken by the owner who told us about the place. The cabin was built in the 1860’s and was being restored. We did not get to go in the big house, which had been unoccupied since the 1950’s.
     Every time we stop for any length of time the teams get unhitched. No runaways that way and no one has to hold them.
     I got to visit with Charlotte when we explored the cabin. She said something profound to me. She said old houses seem to have personalities, once people leave, the place falls apart.
     The wagon train has traveled 353 miles by the GPS machine.
     This first day has been an introduction, to the crew, riders and an introduction to the routine. I am settling in to my role well, and look forward to what I learn, investigate and experience. My challenge will be the work. I love to work, but if I only work I will not do my observations and journaling. This could be a problem.
     We arrived at Fossil at 4 p.m. Charlotte wanted an iced tea very badly so we walked to a restaurant a few blocks away. While sipping our drinks outside, local Kelly Riley came by and said she would come over and play some music tonight. The wind is gusting on and off, as Charlotte filled in Kelly about our day.
     Sharon offered me a trip out to the Wilson Ranch Retreat. Seems they offered the last Fossil visit a night for someone. Sharon had gone last time and Charlotte couldn’t because of the dog. I didn’t want to go, as I was not dirty yet and I really didn’t want to leave camp for any reason. I needed to write some. Sharon decided to go back again and pamper herself. She is a nice lady. Can’t wait to visit some more with this lady from across the continent.
     When Gary got back, he started dinner. When I came to help I peeled a few potatoes and cut my finger. The knife was dull, but for me a fork is even a dangerous tool! I went to set up my camp and find the few Band-Aids I packed.
     My tent went up easy, as easy as Hugh had made it look. It was my first set up. I faced my tent door to the east so I could see the moon rise. I need a chair though my trunk provides a good backrest.
     We ate Venison gravy over boiled potatoes. Delicious and I didn’t add salt.      The evening was busy. The evening was busy. The livestock had needs. A German film crew was signing on for tomorrow and two ladies and three girls were also going to ride tomorrow. Turns out Melanie, also a local of Fossil, was one of the ladies and it was a dream of hers to do the ride. Her husband was on hand and he and Kelly Riley played some guitar tunes. Not too many listened, but it was near the cooking and cleaning so they got heard.
     With my stitching half done, it’s time for sleep. The clouds covered the moon, rain maybe?

Day Two
     It was getting light when breakfast was served. Pancakes and black coffee was terrific. Some people were getting tired of pancakes. I sat on my trunk and ate quickly, as I had not packed up all of my stuff before eating and did not know just how soon we would be leaving. Melanie and her friend and the girls made a cute little pioneer huddle, trying to keep warm and eat with their plates on the ground. The film crew had arrived also. I helped get Charlotte’s gear to the trailer. It was a job as it was not very near where we had pitched our tents. But I was glad, as it would ruin pictures and the cool visual of an old wagon camp or should I say encampment?
     This morning I packed two cameras for we were going where I had never been before. We left Fossil about 7:30 a.m. This off-the-highway-road was great, lots of cattle and trees. I was beginning to worry about the way my pictures were going to turn out, as this travel was bumpy. I think I get the meaning of “buckboard”. I thought that I would understand how a child might “enjoy” the trip to Oregon in the 1850’s. With the wagon canvas pulled up the views were spectacular.
     I saw some huge stumps, old growth pine for sure. A small herd of elk loped away in the distance. We stopped to water the stock at 9 a.m. I carried water to them. Water and animal feed come along with us on the trailer with the porta-potties.
     We gained some traffic of local ranchers. Two riders joined us on a palomino and a paint. I fleetingly thought about getting out and walking but not for long. I didn’t want to be left behind if I couldn’t keep up at 3.8 to 4 mph, and if I got too tired I wouldn’t be able to climb in by myself, especially at that speed.
     The boards of the bottom of this wagon are loose and shrunken. I can see the ground. Reminds me of my 102-year-old porch.
     We scrape a fir branch; the scent of it lingers for a long time. Lovely.
Steve from Wisconsin has been on several wagon treks like this, one Cheyenne to Deadwood in 2008. Neat, now I know why he and Cindy are here. They love this stuff. I’m getting it too, kind of a fever for it.
     Midday we stopped to bring passengers and the wagons up a steep hill. Stuff the film crew needed. It was neat to see the four mules hitched up. The horses were brought up unhitched, as they were not stout enough the pull alone. Mules and horses don’t mix I guess.
     The exercise is not only hard on the mules, each trip down the hill is required by the teamster, too! The point man and rider at the rear go each time also.
Twickenham is our next camp.
     We moved on and saw an old cabin losing it’s roof. It was a photo shoot. Also a local landowner told of the 100 people that originally homesteaded here. Most went broke, like the ones that left this cabin. Large ranches were the result, as a 160-acre homestead would not support a living.
     We kept climbing in elevation. Views were spectacular. It was a little breezy, nice through the pine and fir forest.
     This is my last ride in the blue wagon. I’m going to miss it. I like it; it has character and who knows what history took place in it. We will noon at water.
     I figured out the only way to sit in a wagon comfortably is crossways with something in the small of your back. Of course, you only get one side of the view.
     We were still climbing on what we used to call a logging road in the Willamette Valley where I grew up.
     Twickenham was once a logging community. The spotted owl must have moved in here somewhere. Cattle industry now. It is clouding up four or so miles from our evening camp. Today had cooler weather predicted.
     Our nooning was a sight to behold. It was truly a vision of the past. Some sitting some standing, milling about, visiting and our wagon master telling stories to the children. We left at 1:55, still climbing.
     Pavement was not far from us. Without the loud banging from the bumps the harness chains and rings rang more clear. Interesting berry varieties along the rode, purple, deep red and lighter red.
     Evening at the Rockin A Ranch with a beautiful backdrop of hills. The sun is setting at 7 p.m. The film crew got me putting my tent up without a hitch!      Charlotte is leaving us. We were all displaced today in some way with 10 more people. Melanie and her four guests are leaving tonight. She got to go on a great stretch of pioneer road. Kelly put the three girls up on Traveler. What a nice horse. I took pictures and will send them along later.
     The pasture we are camped in looks great but it is a plowed and planted field, clumps of grass. I will be able to adjust my mattress accordingly. My tent is nearest the horses and mules.
     Dinner was very good but very late, well after dark. Bill talked Charlotte into staying. Tomorrow will be as crowded as today. We lost five but are gaining four.
     The group is now at a campfire, singing, but I am not. I smell the smoke; in fact, it is coming in. I think I should be there but I have writing to do and a mattress to finish sewing. Then I hear Annette say, “How ‘bout I ask a couple questions.” Now I am glad I am not there. I hear a harmonica. Nice.
     I faced my tent to the moonrise again. What a beautiful scene tonight. We don’t have to get up real early. Mr. Anderson wants to give his 90-some-year-old mother a ride in his new stagecoach. It has never had a team harnessed to it. It does not sound like we get to ride in it, according to his conversation at dinner.      Bill was not there but Steve thanked him for letting us use it. He said he wasn’t sure yet. I guess $40,000 or so dollars would be hard to entrust to virtual strangers. My heart sank because that was the one part of this trip I needed for my town’s history. I needed a picture of the stage in front of the Shaniko Hotel to go with one I have taken in 1910.
     After all the anxiety I have had over this trip I’m doing so much better than I thought I would. I am so glad I got to do this.
     I hear the sounds of crickets and killdeer on occasion. What an awesome prairie sound to go to sleep too. Prairie lullabies.

Saturday, Day Three

     The picture perfect wagon camp. I got up at 6:30 and took my time getting ready this morning. A rooster nearby and a hurting body woke me amply.
     The sky is teasing rain this morning. It is warm and a little humid.
     The wagon train will be full again. Tonight we will be joined by another wagon. A couple from Vale named Wilcox.
     Today, my family will be celebrating at the Wamic Rendezvous Days, doing gunfights and the parade.
     I saw only a few mosquitoes, which will probably get worse as the John Day River gets closer — or should I say as we get closer to the river! That figures as I put the repellent away in my trunk to lighten my day load.
     Unfortunately, Elizabeth and her dad are not continuing. The film crew is also not going any further. They will take some shots of the stage and be on their busy way.
     The stage issue was resolved somehow and it is going with us. Dave Vixie will leave his blue wagon and drive his mules hitched to the Equis wagon.
     For Mr. Anderson’s mother to ride on top of the stage, they used a forklift bucket to get her up there. Other family members rode inside. They made a trip back to the ranch house as we had all come up to the corrals.
     The Germans got their footage.
     We left the Twickenham camp at 9:30. Charlotte and I got to ride in the stagecoach. What a nice ride, rolling motions. Takes getting used to, but not the fine, cushioned seats. Those take no time at all to adjust to!
     Charlotte is glad she is coming along. Sometimes it takes just the right words to keep us going on something that is more important to do than we know at the time. Bill had those words, even though she didn’t see it quite that way at the time.
     As the road got steeper, I rode in the middle wagon. We made a rest stop and Megan and Cloe got out and picked us some wild, beautiful flowers.
     I do hope the picture of my flower turns out. I put it in the last few pages of my traveling journal. It had hard covers so should press ok. I just have to remember it is there or I will lose it.
     We are leaving the view of the river. We have water, however, the pioneers did not know always where and how far it was to the next water.
     Speaking of water, it first goes to the animals, then to drinking and cooking. If there’s enough and a layover can be made, then bathing and laundry.
     Restrooms in old days, were behind brush and trees or in cases of the absence, women would make curtains with each other’s skirts.
     Feed for the animals, like in this terrain, is very scarce. The health and soundness of the animals was critical to the survival of the people. With only a few minor nicks these animals have remained sound this whole adventure.
     We saw a double rainbow. I was out of film. I only brought one and part of one today. This country I can also drive later. We rolled by Burnt Ranch (www.TheBurntRanch.com) at 4:30. I noticed two boat landings there. Might explain the traffic on this back road on Labor Day weekend! So much for quiet and remote travel.
     The Shaniko blacksmith and his wife were waiting for the train. There were people out here looking for us. He told me there were some big hills yet to go up and over. He had brought more things to add to his shop that would be open for the Shaniko Wool Gathering, my first event after getting off this wagon trip.
     At a water stop we were met by the Wilcoxes and they said that dinner would be waiting for us. We would not get there much before dark. We had cold wind and sprinkles of rain. My slicker was packed.
     One mile from camp and the sun was setting. We crossed many cattle guards today, those without a gate to get around them; Gary had plywood for making a “bridge” crossing. The animals were all troopers.
     When the rain really began none of our things were back. Something must have happened. It was a long way in the dark on several intersections of gravel road. We had gone a long 23 miles today. Charlotte and I tried to sleep in the stage — no way. Charlotte got one of the Vixie wagons and I got to sleep in Ian and Cam’s horse trailer with them and Sharon. I told her that I did snore so I was away from her on a pile of horse blankets. Guess I fell asleep there.
     Ok, we had our rainy bad weather day!! Goodbye day three!