Pilot Butte
I want to change my assessment of Bend as just another small town. Tonight, I took a ride that made me really appreciate why this place is here.
On the east side of town is a volcanic cinder cone called Pilot Butte, that rises up, I dunno, 400 feet above where it starts. Six miles in circumference? (this can be checked) it’s basically a startling geological pimple.
It commands the view; you can see all the mountains in the distance, 360 degrees, forest fires sending their smoke into the air; you can see the river that made development of Bend possible and you feel the magical nature of this natural place.
It took me about 15 minutes of climbing to get to the top, circling the butte as the road rose. It’s a local custom to walk up; there were at least a dozen folks I saw striding purposefully upwards, or downwards with satisfaction.
I admired the view from the summit and came to believe that Bend has always been a successful development project. From the interpretive exhibit, I believe that a guy named Drake made a fortune in logging here and created the foundation for the town’s prosperity.
Tomorrow, I am planning to go to the local museum and get a clearer picture of the natural history of this place.
I rode down from the butte and then circled through what is called the Old Mill District. Developers have turned the old sawmill into an impressive retail and condo development; I was able to bike through the whole place, including the family-friend, yet deserted bike trail crossing the river that I assume made the old factory possible.
I was freaked out, though, by the piped in Muzak in the REI-cornerstoned Vegas-like mall.
At the base of Pilot Butte is the town’s cemetery; I got the sense riding around there that the pioneer folks who settled here felt the undeniably special character of that spot.
Me, too
On the east side of town is a volcanic cinder cone called Pilot Butte, that rises up, I dunno, 400 feet above where it starts. Six miles in circumference? (this can be checked) it’s basically a startling geological pimple.
It commands the view; you can see all the mountains in the distance, 360 degrees, forest fires sending their smoke into the air; you can see the river that made development of Bend possible and you feel the magical nature of this natural place.
It took me about 15 minutes of climbing to get to the top, circling the butte as the road rose. It’s a local custom to walk up; there were at least a dozen folks I saw striding purposefully upwards, or downwards with satisfaction.
I admired the view from the summit and came to believe that Bend has always been a successful development project. From the interpretive exhibit, I believe that a guy named Drake made a fortune in logging here and created the foundation for the town’s prosperity.
Tomorrow, I am planning to go to the local museum and get a clearer picture of the natural history of this place.
I rode down from the butte and then circled through what is called the Old Mill District. Developers have turned the old sawmill into an impressive retail and condo development; I was able to bike through the whole place, including the family-friend, yet deserted bike trail crossing the river that I assume made the old factory possible.
I was freaked out, though, by the piped in Muzak in the REI-cornerstoned Vegas-like mall.
At the base of Pilot Butte is the town’s cemetery; I got the sense riding around there that the pioneer folks who settled here felt the undeniably special character of that spot.
Me, too
posted by Professor Dave at 8:59 PM
1 Comments:
Your view up Pilot Butte of "forrest fires sending their smoke into the air" might have been all the more poignant had you been aware that your friend's daughter was deep in the midst of it battling those fires with her crew.
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