The Badlands doesn't give up its mystique easily. On a recent field trip to survey the proposed Wilderness area east of Bend, my guide and I hiked more than an hour over dusty trails, winding through an ancient, but not necessarily, awe-inspiring juniper forest before we reached our destination - a massive lava rock formation that erupts from the sandy desert floor in jagged arches and columns.
This is Flatiron rock, one of several major geologic sites within the Badlands and one of the reasons that the Bureau of Land Management designated the Badlands as a Wilderness Study Area in 1980.
It's here that it becomes clear why - despite the presence of old jeep trails, the occasional tree stump and other tell tale signs of human impact - supporters say that the Badlands is deserving of the federal government's highest level of environmental protection.
Geologists describe Flatirons as an inflated lava feature, a product of a fissure in a lava tube that pushed molten rock to the surface of the Badlands shield volcano 80,000 years ago. It's a clue to the area's violent geologic history and the forces that shaped the surrounding region, including Bend. Today, it's an attraction for hikers who start at the trailhead about 15 miles east of Bend on Hwy. 20, and one of the reasons that Congress is looking to make Badlands only the second wilderness area east of the Cascades in Oregon.
Eric Flowers
This Road is History: Obscure wagon road may be the wrench in federal-state land deal
Hatchet marks serve as historical reminders.The march of time has erased most of the Huntington Wagon Road. The shifting desert sand has long since filled in the wagon ruts. The few artifacts left behind by travelers on this early north-south route through Oregon are now encased behind museum glass at the Des Chutes Historical Center. But the land betrays a few signs of its former life.
The gnarled trunks of several junipers bear the scars of their function as road markers, hacked into by the hatchets of primitive road builders to mark the route for those that would follow. The hatchet marks, known as "blazes" are etched into several trees along the roughly mile-long stretch of Huntington Road, one of the few clues to the road’s role as a critical supply route during the last Indian uprising in Oregon and Northern California, The Modoc War.
Thanks to the work of local historians, the significance of this particular stretch is well documented; bullet shells, ox shoes and metal shirt buttons are just some of the Civil War-era items recovered from the site.
Destination Resort Reforms
In the beginning - actually in 1969 - there was Sunriver, and a couple of years later there was Black Butte Ranch.
And Sunriver and Black Butte Ranch attracted thousands of tourists, and that created jobs and brought millions of dollars into Central Oregon, and that was very good.
And when the Oregon Legislature looked at Sunriver and Black Butte Ranch and all those tourist dollars it said: "We need to loosen up the state land use law to allow more places like Sunriver and Black Butte Ranch, because the economies of rural areas like Central Oregon are really hurting and they could help a lot."
And so a peculiar animal unique to Oregon - the "destination resort" - was created, and the legislature decreed that destination resorts could be located outside of urban areas in places that otherwise would be reserved for farms or forests.
But the destination resort loophole turned out to be wide enough to drive an 18-wheeler through, and as time went on "destination resorts" began to look less and less like resorts and more and more like expensive residential communities built around golf courses.
Dog Owners Have Rights
Letter of the Week
I know just how Mr. Orr feels about dogs in Sawyer Park because I feel the same way about kids. Children demand so many things these days: swing sets and slides; basketball and tennis courts; baseball and soccer fields; running tracks and pools; even skate parks. When I was growing up that problem didn't exist. For toys we had a box of dirt and some lead painted blocks of wood. Going outside to play meant just that - running around vacant lots in the dirt amongst rusty nails and broken bottles. If we wanted to get wet we would have to wait for it to rain and play in the puddles. So what if we came back bleeding occasionally or broke out in some ugly rash. I tell you we were happy!
Out With The Truth
Cognitive dissonance can be defined as an irresolvable conflict between what we hold (or wish) to be true and what we know to be true.
There is an old saying that one should never discuss religion or politics. Perhaps this is because these subjects conjure up large amounts of cognitive dissonance.
People hold that their particular brand of religion is true, even knowing it is based on faith. Americans hold that our political system is judicious, while knowing that it is full of corruption.
We hold that our politicians (typically lawyers) are telling us the truth or actually care about us, knowing that most of them don't have an honest bone in their bodies, or give a rat's patuti about the common people.
Some hold that patriotism is never questioning your government's authority, when reality dictates that responsible government requires constant vigilance and demand for accountability by a country's citizens.
Time For Badlands Wilderness Is Now
As a little girl growing up in the desert east of Bend, nothing escaped my inquisitive eye. Everything from the blue summer sky to the warm sand under my bare feet, each unique attribute of my desert world, was observed, touched, smelled, heard, and occasionally tasted. My childhood memories are speckled with the scent of sage leaves crushed between my fingers, the carefree songs of finches and chickadees, the rough feel of juniper bark, and the mesmerizing activity of an anthill. Every blue-bellied lizard and lichen-painted rock told me its story, and I was fortunate enough to be in the right place and time to hear it. The desert molded my childhood life and has a large influence on the person I am today.
Broken Promises: Barsamian to discuss how the Left lost the battle for the airwaves
David Barsamian loves public radio, but he hates what it has become - a mouthpiece for mainstream politicians and a timid political presence, unwilling and unable to challenge conventional thinking. Barsamian, who produces a weekly radio program out of Boulder, Colo. featuring dissidents’ voices like his longtime collaborator, Noam Chomsky, will be in Bend to discuss his work and what it will take to reclaim the airwaves from corporate America. The presentation is sponsored by KPOV, as part of its ongoing look at alternative media.
the Source Weekly: Do I hear birds?
David Barsamian: Yeah, I'm in my garden. I've a lot of stupid dandelions. It just rained yesterday, which is good because it's pretty easy to get them out.
tSW: You've got a new book out called Targeting Iran.
DB: I've also got a new book with (Noam) Chomsky out, called What We Say Goes and there is information about that on my website.
Home of the Mega Church? City to weigh application for Westside Church expansion
Bend's Westside is known for its mature ponderosa pines, quaint mill-era cottages, dirt alleys and boutique shops, and, depending on how a Bend hearings officer rules on a pending application, possibly mega churches. The Church of Latter Day Saints has already staked out its claim on the Westside with its sprawling and largely treeless worship complex on Newport Avenue and Mt. Washington Dr.
Now Westside Church is eyeing a major expansion of its buildings and grounds just a few blocks east of the LDS property.
Reality Bites: Housing market collapse leaves Bend’s big projects in limbo
The Old Mill area’s Mercato is one of several mixed-use projects that has ground to a halt amid the housing and credit crises. Stephen Trono had grand plans for his new project, The Mercato, when he unveiled it back in the heady housing-boom days of mid 2006.
Five buildings soaring as tall as 74 feet, with brick facades and top-of-the-line interiors. A bustling ground-floor mixture of restaurants, bistros, food shops and kitchen stores. Offices on the middle floors for lawyers and architects, engineers and designers. And, capping it all off, a series of top-drawer condos, complete with million-dollar pricetags and sweeping views of the mountains beyond and the Old Mill District below.
That's still the dream, Trono says.
But here in the muddy days of
2008, with the housing market in the tank and the banks running scared
from speculative real estate deals, Trono says his land - the former
site of the Brooks-Scanlon Mill's hulking red crane shed - is likely to
remain just what it is for another year: A flattened field of weedy
gravel, waiting for better days.
Hop Heads: Bend’s inaugural COHO brewfest goes off with a bang
Tyler West, brewer at Silver Moon, fills out a score sheet. Now that’s what we call homework. You probably have an opinion about homebrew. You've likely tasted some funky brown stuff your neighbor made that one time, or that your college boyfriend tried to woo you with once shortly before you split. Or maybe you're still one of those who think this sort of thing happens in bathtubs in rural Missouri, or some other far away back wood.
But I have tasted the fruits of some damn fine homebrewers and am prepared to say that, in Bend at least, it isn't just for bathtubs anymore. And if you haven't been exposed to this "little weekend hobby" - which is how my husband put it so many hundreds of dollars ago - you're not likely to stay uninitiated in this town.
That's because homebrewing has officially grown up around here. The throngs of Central Oregon hop heads proved that two weeks ago with the first APA/BJCP certified homebrew competition in the region. That little bit of alphabet soup just means national homebrew organizations sanctioned the event and nationally certified judges helped run the show.

