50@50 – The Rogue! OR
In 1846, Jesse Applegate began leading emigrants through Ashland via a southern route of the Oregon Trail. For the group of farmers, Oregon represented the land of idyllic, pastoral opportunity. A lush valley lies along the Rouge River, just west of Ashland. Some stayed never venturing further north. The bounty of the Applegate Valley and the values and beliefs of those first farmers represent a major part of southern Oregon’s culture. Currently, the valley boasts many wineries, farms, a major creamery and other food product industries. In many of the restaurants, the servers can even tell you what farm produced your salad.
Today, I ventured further west, hiking the Rogue River trail beginning in the small town of Agness. Outfitters take groups of both rafters and hikers between Grants Pass (52 miles east) and Agness. However, the twelve mile portion west of Agness is not well maintained. The few property owners along the trail are very helpful, clearly posting trail arrows and “private property” signs to ensure no confusion.
Forget any romantic notions of picking berries in the woods. Those bushes have mega-thorns, and I swear they grew a foot just to block the path on our return. We chose an eight mile day hike, four miles out and back. Except for the initial blackberry brambles and having to twice climb over and/or around sections of fallen forest, the trail was pretty easy. Two miles in, the trail opened up to a high cliff at a bend in the river. As I eat my lunch, it was easy to imagine hiking here 100-200 years ago to get from Agness to the sea.
As a composer, I find the sounds along my hikes critical to the experience and instrumental (ha ha, no pun intended) to establishing a sense of place, and this has been an aural adventure. The sound of the wild Rogue River; logging trucks clamoring down the mountain; a farmer’s tractor cutting hay at 10 o’clock at night (probably a dentist or something for his day job); an osprey overhead, and the absence of buzzing cicadas (how can it be July without their buzzing drone?).
Back to Agness, my trek back was easier, and I explored the town a bit as I searched for ice cream. Founded on an old Indian village, its one room clapboard museum presents an assortment of Native and Settler artifacts. The town’s buildings look like those out of a ghost town. The tiny frame post office is probably older than its zip code, and the general store, complete with wooden porch looks even older, but has a freezer full of treats.
Next time, I’ll explore this area via water.