Earliest memories of this life are of Oregon, a nine-acre patch of farmland at the base of a hill at the edge of a wooded area and a creek running through it with crawdads. Bean fields, strawberry patches, and hop yards interspersed with potato fields and pasturelands dotted with cattle, sheep, and horses. Small towns along country roads led to snowcapped peaks in whichever direction you pleased. Drive far enough east and find rugged high desert. Drive north to find a magnificent mountain and a mighty river filled with spawning salmon. Go south into the forested mountains to a volcanic caldera filled with ice-cold water in one of the most beautiful settings imaginable. There are bear, deer, pheasant, quail, and spotted owl. Or venture west across mountain ranges to the ragged windswept coast where sea lions gather on rocks in pouring rain. Descendents of native tribes long forgotten but for the names left behind must still be there. Devoted Mennonites quietly make their lives while loving and helping their not-so-devoted neighbors like us.
Yep, you certainly do have a place to go. I don't imagine our friend Dwight has anything to do with your discovery of one of this countryâ??s best-kept secrets?
See you there,
Russell
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