The crenellations of Three Fingered Jack.
The Frontiersman’s Paradox reared its head and roared at me last weekend. I came to Sisters Country in search of hundreds of square miles of untrammeled forest meadow, stream and desert to roam. Found it, too, and have done a fair share of roaming over it. The newspaper I edit promotes outdoor recreation and tourism, which means I earn my daily bread encouraging people to share in Oregon’s bounty.
But, of course, I also want it all to myself. Frontiersman’s Paradox.
Marilyn and Ceili and I headed out into the Mt. Jefferson Wilderness to hike a bit of the Jack Lake Trail. The subalpine trail lies west of Sisters at the foot of Three Fingered Jack. It’s fine country, which I haven’t hiked in a while. The road in is so washboarded that it will rattle your face right off your head (apologies to Robert Hunter). You might think that discourage people from venturing out there. You would be wrong.
The trailhead was jammed with cars, and the trail was swarming with hikers. Ugh. Now, granted, this was a Saturday in August, which is bound to be busy. And the coronavirus pandemic has sent more people than ever out into the woods looking for heathful activity away from crowded cities. But it is mighty disconcerting when your favorite spots are “discovered.”
Marilyn and Ceili at Jack Lake.
Ceili decided to do some boulder clambering.
On Sunday, after a few hours of banging on the keyboard, I headed out to what the Clan colloquially calls “The Shooting Woods” — the meadow and forest north and west of Zimmerman Butte, the cinderpit where I conduct my Frontier Partisan Biathlon. That area is my go-to woods ramble. It’s entirely flat, unless you choose to climb one of the buttes, so it really isn’t a “hike.” But I can reel off a ramble of a couple of miles or a dozen miles as the mood strikes.
This ain’t by any means a stretch of pristine woodland. It’s been logged over more than once and is crosshatched with logging roads. Kids go back in there to party, and for the past decade a decaying couch some drunken teenager dragged out there has marked a turnoff into the meadow for me.
But I seldom ever encounter a soul back there, and for nearly three decades now it’s felt like “my” woods.
On Sunday, I turned off at the ratty old couch and there was a new-cut trail across the meadow. A nice trail it is, too. It follows precisely the route that I have been taking for years through the sage, juniper and pine which nicely flatters my sense of trailblazing. But the fact that it’s there is a stark reminder that “my” woods are not mine.
Somebody cut trail across my meadow…
I have to laugh at myself, but damned if I don’t feel like that cantankerous old frontiersman who sees the smoke of his neighbor’s cabin and figures it’s time to find a new country…
*
I mentioned the Frontier Partisan Biathlon, which is my form of workout — kettlebell complexes and shooting. I follow Dorothea Wierer on Facebook, which means I get to enjoy her posts on her summer training for the actual biathlon in the Italian Alps. Wierer is an Italian biathlete, who won back-to-back World Cup Championships in 2019 and 2020, which is a jaw-droppingly exceptional feat.
I like everything about this extraordinary athlete — her beauty, her athleticism, her vibrant personality and most of all the obvious joy she takes in her sport. She’s just pretty damn cool.
*
There are a couple of new films in the queue.
I’m not heavily into horror as a genre, but my attention was grabbed by the buzz about a new La Llorona film. La Llorona is the Weeping Woman of Latin American folklore. The 2020 La Llorona is from Guatemala, and the premise is most striking. The San Antonio Current :
(Director Jayro) Bustamante tells the story of the weeping woman through a political drama that follows a retired Guatemalan dictator, General Enrique Monteverde (Julio Diaz), found guilty of the genocide of tens of thousands of native lxil Mayan people during the early 1980s.
When his guilty verdict is overturned and he is set free, General Monteverde is driven into his home as protests against his release rage on just outside his house. When Alma (María Mercedes Coroy), a young native servant, arrives to his front door after most of his domestic staff quits, she brings with her a supernatural force that makes the general and his family confront the unimaginable sins he committed decades prior.
To call Bustamante’s La Llorona the best La Llorona movie ever made is an understatement. The unique, slow-burning, political horror/thriller he has created is ominous, atmospheric and never reduces itself to cheap scare tactics to instill fear in audiences. While some viewers might not consider this a true La Llorona film since the folklore is only used to support the larger narrative, there is no doubt Bustamante has tapped into something that brims with cultural significance and dread.
As someone who believes we are all haunted by frontier history, I’m in for this one.
*
I was in the ninth grade in April 1980, when Operation Eagle Claw went down. The attempt by a previously unheard-of unit called Delta Force to rescue the American hostages in Iran ended in a catastrophic, fiery failure at Desert One. It rocked my world, because I was 14 years old, patriotic and naive. I knew that badass American commandos could die; I didn’t know they could fail.
On August 21, Barbara Koppel’s documentary Desert One will drop.
In April 1980, the US government launched the Operation Eagle Claw, their response to the hostage crisis that was happening in Iran at that time. Helmed by the then-president Jimmy Carter, the Delta Force tried to rescue the 52 hostages that were detained in the U.S. Embassy and Foreign Ministry buildings in Tehran. The documentary film Desert One explores the different aspects of this failed mission through interviews with the hostages, soldiers, commanders, and even President Carter.
The doco has gotten favorable notices and I am looking forward to deepening my understanding of this incident, which can be said to have shaped the history far beyond its immediate impact. The failure of Operation Eagle Claw probably sealed Carter’s political doom and ushered in the era of Ronald Reagan — an era that defined the last part of the American Century.
Matthew says
Humans are strange and contradictory creatures aren’t they? You encourage people to get outside and yet it is kind of annoying when a hiking trail is crowded.
I think our ability to contradictory is part of our ability to adapt and survive. It can also lead to gross hypocrisy. (Not that I’m calling you a hypocrite.)
Speaking of contradictions, I am reading Blood and Thunder now. REH had a lot of contradictions in him too.
JimC says
Indeed he did.
David Wrolson says
Re-Too many people.
Just got back from a previously mentioned trip to Missoula to visit a welding school with my youngest.
He wanted to visit Glacier National Park and drive the “Going to the Sun” road. This was my 3rd visit.
Most relevant to FP stuff-the Blackfoot tribe has the eastern exit of the road closed so you have to go up and go back down.
I hated the zoo that was/is Glacier. Time did not permit any hiking to get away from crowds.
The west side of the park is a zoo and I hate it, but I can’t say that I will never go again because I love the landscape on the east side of the park. The mountain/plain line is so dramatic. It is probably one of my favorite places.
JimC says
I think we’re going to have to learn to live with this.
Rick Schwertfeger says
Last time I was to Glacier, 2018 I think, we were able to hike, which got us blissfully away from the mobs in the parking lots. It is a paradox, as Jim says. For in a way I am glad that folks are out there enjoying the heritage of our public lands. But I just warned off a good friend from going to Yellowstone in the summer. Ugh. I know there are places where we can still get out on our own. A friend just did a wonderful backpacking adventure in the Wind River outback. Marcia, Casey, and I had an awesome hike to the ocean and back in Point Reyes National Seashore back a number of years ago. Marcia and I just braved the searing Texas summer heat to mountain bike at Lake Somerville State Park. There was almost no one there – as most folks avoid the microwave conditions in the summer in Texas. We just need to have the Frontier Partisan guts to find the still wide open spaces!
JimC says
This is true. The tougher the conditions, the fewer the people.
Quixotic Mainer says
I hear you there! My brother and I have a coastal island we hike and geo cache on, there’s normally nary a soul around. The last time I took my wife there it looked like some sort of Yankee redneck Burning Man going on.
David Wrolson says
Bought a book “After Custer: Loss and Transformation in Sioux Country” by Paul Hedren. Hedren apparently is an amateur historian(the best kind) with a strong background in historical geography.
I love the following quote.
>>>”In my writings, I do hold to handful of biases. I call the great monarchs of the plains buffalo, not bison. Historians do not call elk and wolves Cervus canadensus and Canis lupus in their writings. The same, I say, should hold for buffalo”<<<
To me they are alway buffalo and I hate when little Know-it-alls" including some in my own house repeatedly correct me with "Bison."
JimC says
That’s great.
John Roberts says
Correctly pronounced mountain man style: “Buffler.”
lane batot says
Lots of critters have “colloquial” names–nuthin’ wrong with that! Cougars/pumas/panthers/painters/mountain lions/catamounts are all the same critter(a lot of people don’t realize that)–and there are lots more different names for this cat–apparently the mammal with the most call names on record! I have always found it rather ironic that both “Indians” and “buffalo”–both Native American species–were misidentified by the Europeans from the outset–but once entrenched over centuries, and everyone present understands what you are referring to, I no longer consider that “wrong”(although I WILL get into a critter geek discussion regarding such matters at the drop of a hat!). If it is any consolation, there is a case where the term “bison” is also “misused”–the Gaur in India was often referred to as a “Bison” by the Brits once-upon-a-time…..
wayne says
I know how you feel about crowding. After spending decades teaching college students how to backpack and canoe, I realized that I was helping overcrowd my favorite places with new users. The other factor is that when I was born there were 2 Americans; now there are 3. That’s a simplified way of explaining population growth, but it’s sobering to think of it that way.
lane batot says
I was spoilt rotten for many years, living deep in the Southern Appalachians, where I could roam with my wolf-dog pack without any worry about dangerous humans, tempting livestock, or mechanical traffic threats, because there were none where we ranged! Many places I frequented were NEVER visited by humans, and if any intruded in the other rarely visited areas, they were easily detected and even easier to avoid. Now that I am living in a more “developed”, “civilized” area east of the mountains, I really have to watch out(being an incorrigible trespasser as I must to ramble to any degree), as every corner is regularly traversed by people. I try to avoid the “legal” hiking trails and surrounding areas, simply because they ARE so crowded, and I like to free run my dogs when out and about. It’s gettin’ where taking yer dogs for a run is viewed as criminal! And this is regardless of how well-trained and in control of your dogs you are. But I will persist, as long as I am breathing and able. Becoming more nocturnal helps A LOT–and I DO, especially, enjoy the full moons! You could say I practice a certain level of lycanthropy, in that regard!
JimC says
Turning werewolf may be an excellent option.
lane batot says
Yeah, very few people can afford silver bullets these days…..