Sibrownia

sibrownia

View of Mt. Shasta

Right past Shasta, a pretty wetlands...
I'd love to build a home here...if there wasn't a highway.

Sibrownia, aka brown Siberia aka central Oregon. The drive along the 97 past Shasta in Cali is amazibg. Then you descend into a valley and over a hill, and think ooh beautiful Oregon. And....Klamath Falls. Fugly scrub brush town that has a lonely haunted creepy vibe, and then past a brown lake. And then...past two hundred miles of identical looking brownish green pine trees and gray brown dirt. And the occasional west virginia esque nearly extinct craphole town with trailers decorated with extra scrap metal, like shanty towns, spare appliances in the yard... and...cold. yes, sibrownia will be 23 degrees tonight. It is cinco de mayo, may, and 23. I saw it snow yesterday day but it was just umm..."warm" enough to not stick. It can even freeze at night in the summer. So it is brown and cold cold cold. Ok in its defense its kinda pretty in August, you know, when you dont have to wear a jacket, when you can wear a t shirt. And hey the other side of Oregon isnt brown, it is gorgeous with rolling green hills and greentrees and more hues of green that you thought possible.when it isnt gray green from 3 months without sunshine, or ehen the slugs drip off the fungus covered trees. Dont get me wtong. Its pretty but just....not for living in. Oregon is inhabitable unless you like wearing a wool coat in May or galoshes and a flannel in September. Everyone out here is super outdoorsy which is awesome, but, its so either Siberian cold... 20 below in winter, or, dreary moldy. Makes me appreciate my home better.... varied trees, colors, scenery. Never below zero. No slug trees or fungus trees, we see the sun a lot, and our shanty town trailers are mostly confined to parts of hesperia. Oh and the look.....oregonian chic. You could snap a photo of a crown anywhere in the USA and I betcha, you could identify the Oregonians. Ok to be fair, the northwesterly folk from Oregon, Washington or BC. A Columbia sweater is a must, cargo pants of the army, gap, or excercize variety. Brown hiking boots. A volvo, subaru, or jeep. Reusable shopping bag. And if under 35, piercings, tats, and sonething funky going on with your hair. A look that says. I DONT SHAVE. A look that says Im an ornery elderly trust fund snob, or, I like grunge, coffee, and being bitter because daddy only bought me a BMW and that wasnt crunchy enough. ok again to be fair...i did nearly move here in 99.

Sibrownia...cold...and...brown.

View from Grandparents' House...fond memories

I applied to college, got accepted, and..realized bring stuck in a dreary slug tree town, with no money, no car, no friends, with perpetual dreary skies gor 9 months i thought no. I already suffered from depression at that time so no thanks. But i did love the funkiness, the hippy crunchy punk originality, but have learned....it isnt..practical. and theyre different, sure, just like every body else. And i do remembet, fondly, my summers here as a kid. On the west side, when slugs didnt drip from the trees much in dummer, the green rolling hills and non desert crusty feeling of summer. The funky downtown with cafes and bistros, funky shops, galleries, bookstores, so much more unique than the strip mall corporate bleh that is so cal. And the block long bookstore! Fresh produce cause things gasp grow in soft soil and rain. Berries fresh picked and sweeter than those in a pie, that sweet, off the vine. Oh the berries. Id get scratched to hell covered in blood and berry juice, a basket full of blackberries and a smile on my face. Oh, the fresh berries. The nights that stay light till 1030 pm, meaning more hours outside to climb trees and ride bikes, a late night dinner in everlasting evening golden light. Thrn the east side. Where it finally wasnt 23 degrees, with a river to raft down, birds of prey nesting and canadian geese flying over, fresh river trout caught, killd, fried ip, and eaten in under an hour. The dark sky full of stars, the milky way like a sheer curtain across the sky. Although i dont miss the crappy dusty asthmarific gravel roads, skinned knees, and the Alaska style mosquiolto swarms, the itchy bites like chickenpox all over, having to run home to try snd beat the DEET truxk, spraying poisinlus mosquito killing gas inyo the air. Oregon, why must i have a love hate with you?