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    Somewhere in Oregon
    Somewhere in Oregon
    Somewhere in Oregon
    Ebook213 pages2 hours

    Somewhere in Oregon

    By Patrick Wilkins

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A series of short stories about Oregon
    Giant Circles of rocks; maybe an ancient Indian astronomical observatory.
    A city literally made out of gold ore. A cowboy kid who outshines adult rodeo stars.
    Believe in Sasquatch or not, we're always on the lookout for him!
    Ralph Nader's Corvair scare debunked at a Corvair Lair.

    Patrick Wilkins is a retired Pacific Northwest TV journalist, and although he has been both a news director and anchor, he is perhaps known best for his many years on the road as feature reporter for the ABC affiliate station KATU in Portland, Oregon. "Kinda like Charles Kuralt with a smaller territory."

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPatrick Wilkins
    Release dateSep 17, 2013
    ISBN9781301708253
    Somewhere in Oregon
    Author

    Patrick Wilkins

    Patrick Wilkins is a retired Pacific Northwest TV journalist, and although he has been both a news director and anchor, he is perhaps known best for his many years on the road as feature reporter for the ABC affiliate station KATU in Portland, Oregon. "Kinda like Charles Kuralt with a smaller territory."

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      Book preview

      Somewhere in Oregon - Patrick Wilkins

      Foreword

      Some years ago columnist Ann Sullivan wrote in The Oregonian Pat Wilkins was called the Charles Kuralt of the Northwest. When Kuralt died in 1997, Wilkins himself noted that any on-the-road reporter compared to Kuralt had to be flattered by the association.

      But, of course, Pat has always been his own self, and his career goes far beyond the celebrity connected with being a top-notch feature reporter.

      My husband, the late Oregon Governor Tom McCall, was an unabashed fan of Pat’s road reports and told him so. But at the same time, gauged on association that stemmed from the early 1950s, Tom knew that Pat is a reporter’s reporter. In the sense that I am a newsman, declared Tom, Pat is a newsman. A high compliment from my husband, meaning that Pat is always capable of covering any story, in any situation.

      In acknowledging Pat’s success reporting on the road, particularly during the last 10 or 15 years of his broadcasting career, it is well to also recognize his earlier accomplishments as news director, anchor, assignment editor, and commentator.

      However, I believe Pat’s forte has always been his ability to tell good news stories with warmth and charm and humor that is absorbing. His motto, in fact, outrageously and intentionally ungrammatical, is telling: Don’t bring me no bad news.

      Even in feature reporting, though, it is not possible to avoid all bad news. And it is there that I’m especially impressed with Pat’s sensitivity, whether it concerns the death of a tree, as in the chapter Lone Pine Dying, or the death of my husband, the chapter titled McCall Was a Friend.

      When Pat Wilkins retired from Portland television station KATU in 1990, a coworker exclaimed, The man’s a poet. That truth is also reflected again and again in the pages of this book.

      Audrey McCall

      Preface

      This book perhaps deserves a subtitle because some of its stories range beyond the current borders of the state of Oregon. Even so, the tales are still well within the confines of the old Oregon Territory, so it’s not all that much of a stretch.

      The Oregon Territory, you’ll remember, spread out from the Pacific Ocean to the Rocky Mountains, and from the California border clear to Canada. Then, as now, the area was known as the great Pacific Northwest. That was my beat.

      The format: introduction (intro)/story/postscript is meant to reflect the anchor lead/reporter story/anchor tag of TV newscasts—a bow to my career.

      The purpose of Somewhere In Oregon (subtitle: On the Road in the Oregon Territory) is the same as was that of the TV reports: to share a tale apart from the hard-life stories, one that makes a person feel lightened up. There’s something good about that.

      Patrick C. Wilkins

      Indian Mystery Rings

      Intro:

      It wasn't just the cold in the predawn sagebrush desert air that made us so alert. We were excited. We were on to something. The summer solstice sunrise could answer the question of whether this giant circle of rocks, stretched out on a barren plateau of sandstone and rimrock, was an ancient astronomical observatory.

      We waited, my friends Frank and Myma Tuning and I, agitated by anticipation that this alignment of rocks, obviously placed by man, must be in the same category as the famous so-called medicine wheels found along the eastern fringe of the Rocky Mountains.

      This spot, though, was far to the west, in a remote area of Oregon’s high desert, practically unknown, and never studied. Its mystery intact, unexplored and unsolved. Then, as the eastern horizon brightened, we became apprehensive. Doubt nagged. It seemed that now, at the last minute, the time of the sunrise might not bear out our optimism of solstice alignment. But we had to be sure; cameras cocked.

      The secrets of the site first enticed me in 1984 when Drewsey, Oregon, rancher Glenn Sitz, on whose rangeland the circle is located, showed me the place. The layout of the stones reminded me of an article I had read years before in National Geographic.

      The working title for the story I did at the time was Indian Medicine Wheels. The title of record is Indian Mystery Rings.

      The Story:

      The mystery is here on a high point, swept by wind and rain; surrounded by sagebrush desert; accented by old, gnarled juniper trees...where we find this giant circle of stones, and other rows of rocks, like spokes leading from hub to rim. All measuring...a guess to be sure...about 40 or 50 feet in diameter.

      It’s like something we’ve read about.

      Some scientists believe wheels such as this were for the purpose of keeping track of direction and time. For example, standing here in the center, my shadow, in an hour from now, will fall on this line pointing to the north.

      It might be one of those mysterious medicine wheels, such as those studied and written about by noted astronomer John Eddy of Boulder, Colorado. Eddy has unlocked the secrets of some. His belief is that they are ancient astronomical observatories.

      Dr. Eddy tells us that, if authentic, the Oregon wheel is the farthest west, the only one known west of the Rockies, and in what archaeologists and anthropologists would call a different culture area.

      Rancher Sitz, who led us to this remote spot, says he first stumbled onto the wheel 50 years or more ago. Evidently, from the chips all around, says Sitz, this was a place where a lot of people gathered. People who got sorta creative. At least that’s how it seems to me.

      There are other rings here. Much smaller, but seemingly significant to the larger. And Sitz describes one even  larger, some miles from here, where sagebrush has grown up through it.

      There are a number of caves here, too. And one imagines the fires that so long ago sooted the walls with black that remains today.

      Obsidian and rock chips indicate this was, indeed, a campsite of considerable size. But here and there is evidence that pot hunters have already been here, although this is an area where no vehicles travel.

      The wheel has survived, it seems, because its only value now is that it remains where it is.

      An observatory, perhaps, and crude, to us. A relic, but evidence that long before us there were human beings who had already figured things out.

      One can almost feel the presence of those early Indians; one can almost see that presence. Almost....

      Postscript:

      Finally, I chose the summer solstice of 1997 to determine if the Oregon mystery ring of rocks would match the plains Indians’ medicine rings studied by John Eddy.

      In the interim between my initial 1984 story and the present, I had learned much more about the Oregon site. I also learned that Dr. Louie Attebery, a professor of English at the Albertson College of Idaho in Caldwell, Idaho, had visited the site years before I did. Attebery says it appears there has been no serious research on the site. He calls it a delightful mystery.

      It is located in the Stinking Water Pass area (high plateau), about 40 miles east of Burns, Oregon—an area of lava upcasts, but with flat spaces that appear to be sandstone washed by water erosion. It is on the open spaces on which little or no vegetation grows that the rock circle was laid out. Or, rather, several rock circles . In 1990, on a second trip with Glenn Sitz to the area, he pointed out other rings. He knew about them, of course, but for me it was discovery. (Sitz died in a fire at his home, January 4, 1991).

      One large ring of rocks, farthest north, is located on one of the almost-flat areas on top of the upthrust sandstone. I estimated it to be maybe 60 feet in diameter. On another flat close by is a small ring, about nine feet in diameter.

      About 200 yards to the south there is another circle (the one that was the subject of my 1984 report, and also our solstice hope) also estimated to be 60 feet in diameter. And lower down, on a gently sloping area, is a smaller ring, perhaps 20 to 30 feet in diameter.

      The first two circles are just that...rings of rocks. But the other two are much different. They both have lines of stones, connecting a smaller center ring to the larger circle. Something like spokes in a wheel.

      And in the case of the large ring, the spokes join the rim at points where there are even smaller circles of rocks, as if to give these connecting points special emphasis.

      This is cattle range, and it seems the animals have occasionally walked through the spoked rings, scattering some of the symmetry. Also, it is evident that harsh winter weather...ice and snow and runoff..has contributed most to deterioration of the layout. In any event, it’s difficult to make an accurate count of the number of spokes. But it seems that at the time of their construction, the larger circle must have had at least 20 spokes; perhaps a dozen were built into the smaller.

      It does seem that very little of the damage to the rings has been caused by men, although as I’ve mentioned, there was evidence in 1984 that someone had been digging and sifting in the area. But not directly in the circles.

      I reasoned that at least the larger circle seemed to have been laid out to conform to the principal points of direction... north/south, east/west. The smaller spoked ring, in a flat sheltered by a curving wall of rock, ranging from about four to ten feet high, might have been similarly oriented. But again, because of the scatter, it would at best be only a guess. And the smaller ring features some rocks much larger than those used in the other construction. A couple of them even suggest an entrance to the ring. They also face directly into the shelter of the wall.

      However, it is unlikely that any of the design had anything to do with tipis (tepees). First of all, the pattern is much too large and detailed. And second, what is known of the Paiute Indians who inhabited the area is that their dwellings were not tipis. Instead they built hogans,

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