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Getaways: Willamette Valley
Grape Growing and Sasquatch Hunting in the Willamette Valley
By Tad Sooter, 4-04-06
Sometimes I just need some rain. Not the sporadic wannabe rain of Missoula, but the kind of constant, soothing downpours that can only be found in Oregon. So I spent my spring break at my mom’s house in the southern Willamette Valley where if it’s not raining, it’s drizzling, even when it’s sunny. There were no MTV crews or beach parties, though there was one day of non-stop firewood splitting action in her backyard. But the lush Willamette was the perfect escape after an endlessly gray Missoula winter.
In the Willamette everything is in shades of green: from the Douglas fir trees to the grassy hills, to the moss on the rooftops. Even the bedraggled sheep have a tint of green in their soggy wool after the long wet winter. Nestled between coast and mountains, the valley is often overlooked by visitors eager to find beaches, snow or California. Those who do stop in enjoy same slow-paced lifestyle my mom, aunt and uncle found when they settled just south of Eugene. For my cousins entertainment is fishing for steelhead, salmon and even catfish in the rivers or hunting sasquatch in the hills at night (a lot of beer and patience required.)
In the Pacific Northwest the sasquatch is more than myth, it’s a living part of the culture and a part of that unknown that makes wilderness exciting. The ape of blurry photography fame has been sighted in every state in the U.S. except Hawaii (not good swimmers?) with the majority of sightings concentrated between California and Washington. Oregon alone has had 192 sightings, usually in dense forest, and 12 in my mom’s Lane County. My cousin Ed hopes to add to that list. Ed has spent countless nights roaming the hills in his truck hoping to catch a glimpse of Bigfoot. Just two weeks ago he found what looked like oversized barefoot prints in the mud but his dogs trampled them before he could get a picture.
One night last summer he showed my brother and I a sasquatch calling technique he’d learned off the internet. We were driving through some dense woods in search of an abandoned mining camp when Ed brought his pickup to a halt in the middle of the dirt track. He turned off the headlights, rolled down his window and without a word of explanation let out three piercing shrieks into the forest. He waited for the echoes to die and then pounded on the truck door three times with his fist. Then he waited. For a while the forest was silent except for the rustling of the wind in the fir trees and the hysterical laughter of his passengers. It wasn’t funny to Ed. He tried calling three more times on the drive home with no response from the sasquatch. I doubt there was any wildlife within five square miles by the time Ed finished his ritual.
Apparently Ed isn't the only sasquatch safari enthusiast. There are dozens of organizations dedicated to Bigfoot in the U.S., including the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization, which charges $400 per car for guided excursions into sasquatch habitat.
Much of the Willamette may seem domesticated but there is plenty of wildlife around less elusive than Bigfoot. I saw elk twice in the hills during my week stay. Black bear and coyotes are regulars at my aunt and uncle’s and occasionally cougars haunt their ranch.
For most visitors, however, wine is the main attraction of the Willamette. The valley boasts over 200 wineries, which flourish in the mild winters and frequent rain. The Willamette can thank Missoula for a third key ingredient, its fertile soil. About 14,000 years ago the inland sea that was Lake Missoula dumped mountains of water on the western seaboard, sweeping up the volcanic soils of Eastern Washington and depositing them conveniently across the Willamette Valley. Today that earth, a half-mile deep in places, nurtures some of the finest grape vines outside of Napa Valley.
2005 was a record year for Oregon wine growers but not for my uncle. His four acres of grape vines were hit hard by powder mildew, which blackened the vines and destroyed any chances of a harvest. Anyone who thinks wine growers live the leisurely life of the gentleman farmer needs to spend a season in a vineyard. My uncle and family planted the 3,000 plants by hand, working slowly down the rows on hands and knees. Pruning back the young vines and forming them to the trellis is the definition of tedium; it took the two of us a full day to trim 300 plants. In the coming years he hopes to triple the size of his vineyard and begin selling his Merlot, Pinot Noir and Pinot blanc grapes to wineries. Even then his vineyard will be a small-fry among the valley’s behemoth wine growers. But he’ll be satisfied just to have his own little piece of the Willamette dream.
Whether you visit the Willamette for the wine or in search of mythical hairy primates, one thing is for certain: You’ll probably get wet. But even on the rainy days the Willamette holds its unique charm and the lure of greener pastures. It may not be as wild as Cancun, but that's just fine with me.
Grape Growing and Sasquatch Hunting in the Willamette Valley
By Tad Sooter, 4-04-06
Sometimes I just need some rain. Not the sporadic wannabe rain of Missoula, but the kind of constant, soothing downpours that can only be found in Oregon. So I spent my spring break at my mom’s house in the southern Willamette Valley where if it’s not raining, it’s drizzling, even when it’s sunny. There were no MTV crews or beach parties, though there was one day of non-stop firewood splitting action in her backyard. But the lush Willamette was the perfect escape after an endlessly gray Missoula winter.
In the Willamette everything is in shades of green: from the Douglas fir trees to the grassy hills, to the moss on the rooftops. Even the bedraggled sheep have a tint of green in their soggy wool after the long wet winter. Nestled between coast and mountains, the valley is often overlooked by visitors eager to find beaches, snow or California. Those who do stop in enjoy same slow-paced lifestyle my mom, aunt and uncle found when they settled just south of Eugene. For my cousins entertainment is fishing for steelhead, salmon and even catfish in the rivers or hunting sasquatch in the hills at night (a lot of beer and patience required.)
In the Pacific Northwest the sasquatch is more than myth, it’s a living part of the culture and a part of that unknown that makes wilderness exciting. The ape of blurry photography fame has been sighted in every state in the U.S. except Hawaii (not good swimmers?) with the majority of sightings concentrated between California and Washington. Oregon alone has had 192 sightings, usually in dense forest, and 12 in my mom’s Lane County. My cousin Ed hopes to add to that list. Ed has spent countless nights roaming the hills in his truck hoping to catch a glimpse of Bigfoot. Just two weeks ago he found what looked like oversized barefoot prints in the mud but his dogs trampled them before he could get a picture.
One night last summer he showed my brother and I a sasquatch calling technique he’d learned off the internet. We were driving through some dense woods in search of an abandoned mining camp when Ed brought his pickup to a halt in the middle of the dirt track. He turned off the headlights, rolled down his window and without a word of explanation let out three piercing shrieks into the forest. He waited for the echoes to die and then pounded on the truck door three times with his fist. Then he waited. For a while the forest was silent except for the rustling of the wind in the fir trees and the hysterical laughter of his passengers. It wasn’t funny to Ed. He tried calling three more times on the drive home with no response from the sasquatch. I doubt there was any wildlife within five square miles by the time Ed finished his ritual.
Apparently Ed isn't the only sasquatch safari enthusiast. There are dozens of organizations dedicated to Bigfoot in the U.S., including the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization, which charges $400 per car for guided excursions into sasquatch habitat.
Much of the Willamette may seem domesticated but there is plenty of wildlife around less elusive than Bigfoot. I saw elk twice in the hills during my week stay. Black bear and coyotes are regulars at my aunt and uncle’s and occasionally cougars haunt their ranch.
For most visitors, however, wine is the main attraction of the Willamette. The valley boasts over 200 wineries, which flourish in the mild winters and frequent rain. The Willamette can thank Missoula for a third key ingredient, its fertile soil. About 14,000 years ago the inland sea that was Lake Missoula dumped mountains of water on the western seaboard, sweeping up the volcanic soils of Eastern Washington and depositing them conveniently across the Willamette Valley. Today that earth, a half-mile deep in places, nurtures some of the finest grape vines outside of Napa Valley.
2005 was a record year for Oregon wine growers but not for my uncle. His four acres of grape vines were hit hard by powder mildew, which blackened the vines and destroyed any chances of a harvest. Anyone who thinks wine growers live the leisurely life of the gentleman farmer needs to spend a season in a vineyard. My uncle and family planted the 3,000 plants by hand, working slowly down the rows on hands and knees. Pruning back the young vines and forming them to the trellis is the definition of tedium; it took the two of us a full day to trim 300 plants. In the coming years he hopes to triple the size of his vineyard and begin selling his Merlot, Pinot Noir and Pinot blanc grapes to wineries. Even then his vineyard will be a small-fry among the valley’s behemoth wine growers. But he’ll be satisfied just to have his own little piece of the Willamette dream.
Whether you visit the Willamette for the wine or in search of mythical hairy primates, one thing is for certain: You’ll probably get wet. But even on the rainy days the Willamette holds its unique charm and the lure of greener pastures. It may not be as wild as Cancun, but that's just fine with me.