Coos Bay to Ashland OR
The Overland Backwoods Route

July 28th

Leaving Coos Bay, I ventured south towards Gold Beach where I spotted a small but significant connection to the Inland I-5 and Ashland OR. I left by 9:00 am arrived in Gold Beach by 11:00. to a mass of boaters crammed into the mouth of the Rogue river. Just below the bridge entering town was a circulating spectacle of sport fishers, all neatly lined up single file to have their chance at catching the big one. We spend enough of our lives waiting in line to accomplish almost anything and when I think of fishing, I’m taken to some small river with a fly rod and a handful of flies (every time I’ve been fly fishing, maybe 15 times, I get really good at whipping the line overhead and snapping off flies), or it’s in a canoe in the ocean fishing for Rock Fish and if I’m really lucky, it’s aboard a larger boat trolling for salmon (I still haven’t caught one yet). So what is up with fifty boats brushing gunnels and crossing lines just to catch fish?

After a coffee and a bite to eat at the local natural foods store, I began to ask about the route up to Agness and over to Merlin. The looks I received were of shock and concern which made me want to make this trip even more. After consulting with the Forest Service as to the condition of the road, I filled up and made way for the hills. 40 miles to Agness of road that is 93% cornering . What concerned the locals as I mentioned this route was the condition of the single lane road that clings to the contours of the hillside and traverses ridgelines, following the Rogue and Illinois rivers. I couldn’t wait. Rolling into Agness, I was met at the only store in town by a handful of men sipping beer under the shade of a willow tree, the spray of sprinklers on the roof of the store occasionally wetting a passer by. I parked, peeled out of my long underwear and sat down with the friendliest people I had met on my trip so far. Butch and brother Bud had lived in the hills for 82 years and we talked for hours about life away from the city. In my travels seeking sustainable practices and food security, I never thought I would come across a community like this. Most people hunt for their meat and grow veggies for their greens. This is how it’s been since as long as they can remember. This was not about living off the grid in the face of a Peak Oil Crisis, this was about surviving.

I was able to photograph and gather audio so openly that I knew I was going to have to come back and spend a few days here and explore what is at the core of this tiny hillside town. Unfortunately, I was to busy with the audio and film cameras that I didn’t take a single digital picture. You’ll have to wait for the release of my final project for that one. Even now in writing these words, I will never be able to come close at describing the hospitality and warmth I received that day. I thought I should let you know that this is a very important place to me. Conversations about food, portraits of people in their environment, sounds of the space they call home. I feel like I’ve settled into a bit of a routine and that my project is revealing itself.

Leaving Agness, I explored the 50 miles to Merlin over the tops of mountains that in any other part of the world would be considered a horse trail. Yet this was a thin black ribbon of fresh asphalt, spiraling upward toward the clouds. Traveling that stretch of road was nothing short of breathtaking. I’ve been to similar places before in the Kootenay’s yet I was always traveling on ski in the winter or hiking in the summer. It was like some unreasonable Holywood Director pointed to the top of a mountain and said “How ‘bout that spot, let’s build a road up there” and it was done. I have to confess that I did take snapshots with the digi-cam but they are less than impressive. Mid-day light and hard to imagine vistas, I’ll let you be the judge. This was to be remembered in my mind’s eye alone.

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After ascending the ridgeline, the road continued downward towards Merlin. I was met with the multitude of raft guides and speeding trucks, but not before I soaked a while, soaped my dusty skin and filled up my water jug in a small invigorating creek at the side of the road.

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Not thirty seconds later after my soak did I run over a snake sunning in the middle of the road. I returned to see that it was completely dead, prepared to kill it if it was seriously injured but found that I had narrowly missed the head of a sizeable rattlesnake. It took one look at me, let me know who was boss and slowly slithered to the roadside. Having descended the mountain pass, I was once again on the I-5 for a quick hop to Ashland. This town is amazing.

Dave