Choose Your Own Adventure

As M. and I hiked along the Pacific Crest Trail today on Mt. Ashland, he said, "When I was a kid and liked playing in the woods behind the elementary school, I would've freaked about trees like these." It got me thinking: If I look back, I now see indications that maybe I've always been the type of person who would enjoy pushing through knee-tall grasses on a foot-wide, dusty trail on top of a mountain. "There were decision points, I see now," I told him. "You know, like if I'd been in a Choose Your Own Adventure book, I could've turned to a different page."

M. on the PCT near Mt. Ashland in Southern Oregon

We were quiet for a little bit, until I spoke up again. "I turned to the more familiar pages, because this"--I swept my arm at the forest around us--"was completely inaccessible to me. It was as foreign to me as the friggin' Taj Mahal."

Flames

Oregon and Northern California are on fire.

Oregon is not Portland.

Up until about eight months ago, I suffered from a misconception common among East-of-the-Mississippi folk: All of Oregon is The (capital T) Northwest (capital N).

Let's start by establishing what exactly The Northwest is, according to the Rest of America (also in capital letters):

Medford Moments #2

Overheard in the Rogue Valley...

Random Stranger 1: "I bought a Four Runner. And then my kid wanted it, so I gave him that Four Runner and bought another Four Runner."
Random Stranger 2: "Where do you live again?"
RS 1: "[Name of suburban town easily accessible by the highway and not located in the back woods or high on a mountain]"
RS 2: "You go up to the mountain lakes a lot?"
RS 1: "No, not really."
RS 2: "...  ...  ...  ...  ... Oh."

Happy Independence Day

To my fellow Americans, happy Independence Day! United States, you're almost 240 years old, but darling, you don't look a day over 225.

M. and I heard that Ashland, a little offbeat city a few miles to the south, was holding a festival for the holiday, so we decided to take a peek.  Despite the 100+ degree temperature, we hit the road and drove down the 5. Within a half hour, our car was parked in a public lot--five hours for only $2--and we were trekking toward Lithia Park and the blocked-off city streets that were the hub of all the action.

Medford Moments #1

So many daily utterances that escape my and M's mouths, or tiny moments we randomly experience, capture our new life in Southern Oregon just as well, or maybe better, than any long blog post can. I now share with you this blog's first Medford Moment.

M.: "Today, I had a burrito from a taco shop attached to a gas station. It was pretty good."

California Dreamin'

Last weekend, M. and I decided to act upon a moment of strong wanderlust. We took a day trip down to Redwood Country.

O Pioneers!

I started reading O Pioneers!, the classic novel by Willa Cather that somehow managed to escape my grubby little bookworm hands for over thirty years. Sure, the book is set in Nebraska--a state we did not travel through on our westward journey--but I can't help but imagine some of it must be similar to the experience of those Oregon Trail wagoners. I'm only about a quarter of the way through the novel. Already, there are lots of references to people leaving the demanding work of farming finicky Nebraskan soil to return to the reliably bustling life of eastern commerce. I'm thinking, Obviously they knew it wouldn't be easy, so what made them head westward in the first place? 

Back O'er Oregon

Thanks to Soul Pancake, M and I discovered The Weather Machine, and specifically this song by them. This video beautifully highlights all of Oregon's 185 state parks.  What a breathtaking state we live in--I can't wait to explore it.  Enjoy!

Exploring the Northwest

With the upcoming long holiday weekend, M and I are thinking about road trips. We are in this area of the country that is brand new to us, and we're eager to explore not just our new home city, but also our new home region.

In Southern Oregon, there's a ton of natural beauty to experience, so there's a few "must see" places that folks immediately recommend: Crater Lake National Park, for one. The Rogue River and its surrounding parks and hiking trails are another. We have been glad to get so many good suggestions from people who know the area well.

But what about the broader region? We're looking for suggestions of one- or two-day trips, nothing involving a car trip so long it will feel too much like our recent cross-country trip. We'd love to see the geographical diversity of our new state, and we also want to see the Pacific Ocean.  Which Oregon/Northern California beach town is best?  Any cities in Southern Washington worth a visit? Eastern Oregon, what about places over that way? (Please do not disclose the location of anyone in the witness protection program, though.)

And while we're at it, what's the best way to go visit Seattle?  Plane, train, or automobile? (Or hoverboard, a la Marty McFly?)

Basically, how shall we spend our long summer weekends?  Give us some suggestions.  All ideas are good ideas.

O States

So I've lived in all the O states. There are three: Ohio, Oklahoma, and Oregon. I lived in them in alphabetical order.

Post-move adjustment

Moving is hard.

The first time I moved, I was six years old. My family relocated from Pittsburgh--the only place I'd ever known, and the only place my parents had ever lived--to the suburbs of Baltimore. I was too young to really have any opinion on the matter.

Learning how to be a state

When we were in the early stages of planning our move, one of my buddies in Cleveland put me in touch with one of her friends, who years earlier, had moved with his partner from Cuyahoga County to Portland, Oregon. Excitedly, I began exchanging emails with this gentleman. He offered lots of great tips and information about relocating to this region. At one point, he said, "There will be things that'll make you think, Oregon is still learning how to be a real state."

That gave me pause. A real state? Like, did the Pony Express still operate in the Northwest? Did Wyatt Earp hang bandits without going through due process? Were disagreements still settled by duels at high noon in the main square?  I asked, "So, like, what kinds of things will make me think this?"

He was all, just, "Oh, you'll know when you experience it."

So, without further ado:

In the beginning

It started innocently enough.

It was a weekend, probably, though honestly I can't really remember. My husband M and I were sitting next to each other, each of us at our respective computers in our home in Cuyahoga County, Ohio, when I decided to browse lazily, leisurely through job postings in other states. We had already traveled out west multiple times as a couple; M's parents, sister and her family, and my youngest brother all lived in California. My other brother was planning a relocation to Los Angeles, and my parents were frequent Arizona vacationers. We figured, it'd be nice to be a little closer to our family out there. We knew before we even got married that eventually, we also would head west; it was just a matter of when and how.

And then, on this day when my husband and I sat next to each other on our respective computers, I saw three -- count 'em, three -- job openings that seemed to be tailor-made for me. I excitedly jabbed M in the arm. "Should I apply?" I asked shouted. "Should I?!?"

My calm, type-B husband airily asked, "Maybe we first should think about where these jobs are located."

I began reading the list to him: "One is in Los Angeles."

"Do you want to live in Los Angeles?" he asked.

"Not particularly," I said. "It's...hazy there. And there's lots of...silicone."

"So where's the second one?" he asked.

"Some place sorta northeast of San Francisco."

"That's a possibility. 'Course, it's pretty expensive living in that region."  He paused. "Where's the third?"

"Not California," I replied, "but close. Southern Oregon, near a city called Medford."

And so we talked about it. The Oregon job had only a few days remaining to apply, so our talk was pretty quick. We considered that we'd be hours from a major airport. We considered the cost of living (about the same; higher real estate costs but no sales tax and cheaper utilities). We considered what it would mean to leave our Rust Belt comfort zone and relocate to an area known for, well, the opposite of urban industry (nature and the outdoors).

We figured, what the hell, you only live once. What did we have to lose? I applied. And a little less than a month later, on Christmas Eve, I got a phone call: They wanted to interview me.

I guess the rest is history. I'm typing this from Medford, in April, with the windows open and a sunny, seventy-something-degree breeze floating through the house. I smell nothing but mowed lawn and our dryer, churning out fabric softener-air.

It's an adjustment, though. It will continue to be, I'm sure. Hence this blog.