ODT PART 5: Frenchglen and Again
Day 19| September 29th, 2023
The day began with a sunrise that rivaled the beauty of the previous evening's sunset. We walked along the paved road into town, a very small desert community and a popular tourist destination with stunning natural scenery.
After weeks of text messages and phone calls, we finally met Shaggy in person at the coffee shop/restaurant. We greeted each other with warm hugs and big smiles. The hotel whipped up a simple breakfast, mostly potatoes for me, but it still hit the spot.
The weather was sunny and warm, but the forecast still warned of an impending storm. Mindful of our past experiences leaving Paisley, we came up with a plan that involved tackling a 20-mile section in a day and then ending at the hotel back in town. This plan required us to get a ride to Steens Campground and then hike west back to Frenchglen, ensuring we’d end the day where we started, in time for a family-style dinner.
Standing outside the Frenchglen Hotel, we spent about 40 minutes with our thumbs out, hoping for a lift. Curious drivers occasionally stopped to inquire about our situation, while others simply waved as they passed by. However, no one seemed inclined to pick us up. During our attempts, an Oregonian man pulled over, not to offer a ride, but to give us some unsolicited advice. He half-jokingly suggested that as the only woman in the group, I should stand in front to improve our chances of getting a ride. His boisterous laughter at himself only emphasized the outdated patriarchal tone of his advice. I responded with a polite, albeit curt, smile before retreating to sit in the grass behind the boys.
Our hitchhiking effort was unsuccessful, so we adjusted our plan and headed straight to Steens Campground on foot. We planned to look for a ride from the campground back to Frenchglen at the end of our day. Along the way, we introduced Shaggy to our 'garlic brothers initiation,' and he embraced the challenge with characteristic enthusiasm.
We followed a singletrack trail to the bottom of a dramatic canyon to cross the Donner und Blitzen River, and then quickly took a steep climb out to continue cross-country to the southeast.
Trekking across the vast terrain, I noticed the darkening sky signaling the approaching storm. But as we came closer to the campground, a scene more ominous than the black clouds greeted us. The stumps of hundreds of juniper trees lay naked on the sloping hill, the cut trees stacked in browning, dead piles. Rain began to fall as we wove our way through the bleak scene.
The campground was now within sight, and I hurried to get there, but as I approached, my heart sank further at the sight of the empty parking lot, its desolation echoing along the deserted road to get in (the one we hoped to hitchhike on back to Frenchglen, 20 miles away). We split up, each taking a different path through the campground, hoping to find someone who could offer us a ride back to town.
On our way to the campsites, Cosmo and I crossed paths with a BLM employee who was part of a team stationed nearby. We asked about the juniper piles and he grimaced when he spoke, “They say it’s for fire mitigation. But we all know it's for the ranchers.”
This conversation led to an eye-opening realization about the junipers. While native and ecologically significant, their water-intensive nature negatively affects cattle grazing, and removing them directly benefits cattle ranchers. This knowledge led us to understand the influence cattle ranchers have on BLM policies, shaping environmental decisions to suit their needs. It was an enlightening conversation, revealing the intricate balance between conservation efforts and the interests of local stakeholders.
Hesitantly, we asked the BLM employee for a ride back to town. We understood the constraints he might face due to work regulations and liability concerns. He appeared genuinely sympathetic to our situation, but as expected, he had to refuse.
To our relief, the campground was fairly large, and there were several groups spread out at different sites. With a mix of hope and hesitancy, we approached them, explained our situation, and asked for help. Unfortunately, each group we met politely declined our request for a ride.
We understood their reluctance: who would want to interrupt their quiet, nature-filled weekend getaway to drive a group of stinky, trail-worn hikers an hour back to town during a storm? The realization settled in with a mix of resignation and understanding. It was one of those moments on the trail where the unpredictability of adventure met the practicalities of reality.
Given the ongoing rain and falling temperatures, we opted to set up camp for the night and plan our next steps in the morning.
After setting up, I reached out to the hotel to update them about our situation, a decision influenced by the boys who playfully speculated that perhaps a woman's voice might elicit a more sympathetic response. Dave, one of the co-owner’s, graciously offered to pick us up the next morning. This gesture was deeply appreciated by all of us. Dave's kindness significantly boosted our morale, allowing us to enjoy the evening around a campfire, courtesy of firewood from kind neighbors, before the rain sent us to our shelters, ending the day on a tranquil note.
Day 20 | September 30th, 2023
It was a rainy morning at the South Steens Campground as we huddled around our morning fire, savoring the warmth and our breakfast together.
Dave pulled up at 10:30 am as promised and offered us a respite from the dampness outside. He looked to be in his 30s, close to our age, and his presence immediately put us at ease. He was lean, with a style that blended a hint of urban hipster flair with the practicality of rural life. His demeanor was genuinely friendly, fostering an easygoing atmosphere that made our conversation both comfortable and engaging, without ever feeling overbearing.
Dave's recent relocation from Portland to Frenchglen marked a significant transition in his life. Alongside his wife and young child, as well as his best friend and his friend’s family, they had all embarked on this new journey together. This change, from urban to rural, seemed to have opened up new perspectives for him, adding depth to his character and experiences.
As we drove, the conversation flowed naturally. Dave shared his experiences transitioning to Frenchglen and his interactions with the local ranchers. This land, once home to the Northern Paiute people, is now a mix of cattle ranching and recreation, managed by both the BLM and private ranchers.
During our chat, I mentioned "Bundyville," a podcast I had been listening to about the Bundy family standoff in 2014 over land rights and the 2016 occupation of the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge. I was glad to hear that Dave was well-acquainted with the podcast. I was glad to hear that Dave was well-acquainted with the podcast. And perhaps more intriguingly, he had developed personal connections with some individuals featured in the series and was closely familiar with the community affected by the Malheur standoff. Dwight and Steven Hammond, the main characters in the Malheur incident, were from the nearby town of Burns, Oregon, which is about an hour from Frenchglen. The boundary of the Malheur Refuge is quite literally across the street from the Frenchglen Hotel. His firsthand experiences and insights brought an entirely new depth to the podcast narratives, making the stories I had been listening to even more compelling and real.
Returning to the hotel felt like a shift back to civilization. The luxury of a hot shower after so many days on the trail was both surreal and deeply appreciated. As I scrubbed, layers of dirt began to wash away, the water at my feet turning a murky brown. The grime seemed endless.
Turning off the shower, I reached for the neatly folded white towel on the sink. I wiped my face, and then glanced down at the fabric, now streaked with a brown tint. It was a familiar sight; years of thru-hiking have taught me that the trail clings stubbornly, not easily washed away by a single shower.
We regrouped at the cozy coffee shop next to the hotel, each of us with a warm beverage in hand. The simple pleasure of sitting there, in the quaint ambiance of the town's coffee shop, was pure bliss. Gathered around the fireplace, we played cards and unwound, fully immersed in the comfort and tranquility of the moment, rain continuing to fall outside.
That night, the Frenchglen Hotel cooked up a family-style dinner, served to everyone seated at the long wooden tables in the dining room. There was a large kale salad, roasted potatoes, and baked tofu. We chatted with the other guests, soaking in this warm atmosphere and tucking this evening away for the cold, lonely, and hungry nights we knew were ahead.
Day 21 | October 1st, 2023
The morning began with breakfast at the hotel, where I had an interesting chat with two wild horse enthusiasts and activists. This specific area of Oregon is home to the very rare Kiger mustang, and folks come from around the world to catch a glimpse of the special breed. We discussed the ongoing issues with wild horse roundups and corrals, and the controversial topic of ranchers using public land. One of the men was a high school teacher and journalist. He put down his fork to emphasize his frustration with land management in the area. “The ranchers want the wild horses gone, and so they get the BLM to send in these helicopters to round them up and get rid of them! It’s bullshit!”
Frenchglen, a small unincorporated town, attracts a diverse group, encompassing wild horse and wilderness activists, bird watchers, ranchers, and historians, as well as hot spring enthusiasts, RV tourists, and outdoor adventurers. This wide-ranging crowd showcases the area's diverse attractions and natural allure but also emphasizes the complex interactions between conservation efforts, recreational use, and land management practices.
After breakfast, I indulged in a much-needed yoga session in the hotel room, which was a refreshing break and a perfect way to start the day. Feeling rejuvenated, I took a solo walk around Frenchglen, soaking in the tranquility and unique charm of this small town.
Later, I spent some relaxing time at the Blitzen Coffee House, lounging with a book in hand. During this peaceful moment, Amy, who juggles roles as a barista, shopkeeper, and gas station operator, crafted a delightful vegan mocha for me.
As I waited for my drink, I enjoyed the company of Drover, the friendly dog, who seemed to appreciate the pettings. Soon after, I was joined by Cosmo and Showers, adding to the pleasant atmosphere.
The forecast for Steens Mountain still looked grim, which cast uncertainty on our plans. Complicating matters, Shaggy wasn’t feeling well, raising concerns for our group's intention to hike out of Frenchglen together.
That evening, Cosmo and I opted for a simple, cost-effective meal of microwavable soup and potatoes, in contrast to Showers and Shaggy's choice of the hotel's family dinner. Our modest dinner was unexpectedly fulfilling. After dinner, the four of us rounded out the evening with beer and trivia-based board games.
Day 22 | October 2nd, 2023
We packed up and tidied the hotel room before congregating in the dining room for one last savory breakfast. I indulged in double hash browns, the main course of my breakfasts here that had become a comforting staple.
Despite the nasty weather still looming in the forecast for the next few days, there was a collective sense of eagerness to return to the trail. We resolved to make our way back, hoping to catch a ride all the way out to Steens Mountain Campground.
We spent about an hour trying to hitch a ride, a process that tested our patience until we finally caught a lift halfway to our destination at the junction at Steens Mountain Loop Road. The junction was quiet, with cars passing infrequently, leaving us with no choice but to start trekking along the gravel road towards the campground.
Our walk was punctuated by encounters with small groups of wild horses and breathtaking views of Steens Mountain, now adorned with a fresh layer of snow on its peaks. The beauty was as striking as it was intimidating, reminding us of the changing seasons.
With several miles still ahead of us, we passed a BLM truck. Recognizing the BLM workers we had met on our first night at the Steens Campground, we exchanged friendly waves. To our surprise and relief, shortly after, they stopped their truck and offered us a ride back to the campground. Gratefully, we hopped into the back, braving the biting wind until we reached our destination.
We set up camp against the backdrop of the snow-covered mountain. The scene was both imposing and mesmerizing. I was feeling apprehensive about the wet, cold weather but I knew I was in the minority when it came to taking another day off. Enveloped in the raw and untamed beauty of nature, we settled in for the night.
