The western route is one that Georgia and I have looked forward to for quite a while. Although we meet some mountainous terrain, most of the morning drives offer landscapes that are far too stunning for the kids to sleep through. Many mornings I've roused the girls so they could take in the matchless colorful sunrises in the vast desert expanses of New Mexico and Arizona. We have marveled at the dense Joshua tree parks and the splendor of the Avenue of the Giants in the Garberville area. To us, it's exciting to see and hear the rushing waters that trail along the roads leading up to northern California. There's nothing like the sites of the western C & M tour.
We have been traveling from village to village in Oregon for about a week now. This part of the country is pretty well known for being wet and green. The rain and the sun can, at times take turns making appearances in just a few hours. I learned quickly to keep rubber boots and sunglasses in close reach while we explore the beaver state. Mount Hood, the Timberline Lodge, Crater Lake National Park, and numerous museums are some of the more popular points of interest. We haven't taken in the waterfalls or volcanoes of Oregon, but our visits to sparsely populated villages like Riddle, Drain and Harrisburg that are almost secretly tucked along highways have offered surprising and memorable treasures. We have soaked in a few local history lessons while visiting the museums, perusing the local commerce and investigating the Queen Anne style castles of these towns.
The other morning on the way to Drain, Georgia said she wondered why in the world anyone would name a town Drain. I said maybe we'd find out if we got to explore the town of just over 1,110 people. When we approached the very outskirts of town, I recognized the gas station, coffee shop and auto part store from two years ago. As we turned right on the main drag, I immediately noticed an eye-catching multi-colored Queen Anne style house that had been converted into the fanciest of candy stores sometime after our last visit. The inviting outdoor wrought iron furniture, children's picnic tables and ultra colorful sweet-smelling landscaping all perfectly accented Sweet Thang's Victorian decor. Having at one time been a collector or any and all things Victorian in my 20's, I was actually more excited to step foot in an actual factual Victorian house than sampling the candies. After set up, we eagerly paid Sweet Thang a visit where the proprietor generously greeted me with a fresh homemade mocha as we entered what I guessed was once the parlor of the home built by Oregon and California Railroad carpenter, Charles Hasard in the late 1800's. Fancy tables and shelves and crystal clear glass cases housed what I now consider to be the best chocolate I have ever tasted. There were chocolates molded into playful duck shapes, finely crafted sea shells and star fish, detailed cameos and chocolate spoons for melting into hot milk to name just a few of the choices. Homemade bath soaps, hand creams, post cards, period fans and hair accessories were also available to purchase in this tiny shop in which I could have easily spent hours wandering. The multi-level future bed & breakfast/restaurant boasted many other rooms in which I imagined were probably also decorated with fine crafted, ornate, maybe ultra lacy, ultra flowery Victorian decor. The rest of the home was left to my imagination as our half hour long visit came to a close. Finding Sweet Thang on Facebook, I liked and commented on the goodies we came away with and hoped that they were no stranger to shipping their products.
The lot was green, small and tucked right behind the town's pristine library/civic building. Behind the back yard of the lot was, to my extreme pleasure, a lovely restored covered bridge available only by foot traffic. Having been once described as a person who lives in the past (this I cannot deny...growing up with grandparents who told stories that put you right in the summer of 1925 or the bustling down town of Dayton during the war...yeah, I have done my fair share of wondering, romanticizing and day dreaming about the past) ready access to an old-fashioned covered bridge and an authentic Victorian house in one day put me on the proverbial cloud 9. The lush green bushes that surrounded this masterpiece showed off huge pink and red blooms that smelled sweet and heavenly. To the bottom right of the bridge was a greener than green clearing with perfect soft grass my girls ran around on and picked a dandelion puff or two. At one point, Tootie became distracted long enough to pick a tiny flower near a growing Eisenhower Green Ash Tree, planted, of course to honor veterans. I learned that each of these trees is a direct descendant of the green ash growing in Dennison, Texas, at the birthplace of President Eisenhower. We walked, ran, exercised dogs on and Georgia unicycled across that solid bridge too many times to count. I wondered when it was originally built, who built it and where it led when it was first built. I wondered a lot of things about that bridge, and I really loved the sound of its echo.
A covered concrete picnic area near the restored bridge became the grounds for unicycle practice and unicycle nonsense that sent me and my family 'pert near' into hysterics! There's nothing like witnessing a rousing game of unicycle tag with every rider weaving in and out and around posts, picnic tables and assorted circus props, tools and a town person here and there. I managed to record the sounds of shrieks and laughter as whoever was the unicycle riding "it" chased everyone else who wasn't the unicycle riding 'it'. As one friend put it, 'only in a circus family!' :)) So true!! Paulina practiced riding the almost 10' tall "giraffe" unicycle with her dad and older sister, Simone guiding her along. She held on to rafters and a long piece of PVC as she carefully peddled a few feet here & there and seemed completely at ease. So much at ease that she took a phone call from a local farrier while she was perched on top of the giraffe.
After unicycle antics, we discovered, to our dismay, that the library was closed. But the Drain castle was not. It had been and is still being restored to perfection. I discovered that it is currently being used by the school board and is the office of the superintendent. We had heard that if we visited this part inviting, part ominous looking house, that we may get a tour. And a tour we got.
Charles Drain, Sr., born in the Midwest, purchased a 320 acre long narrow piece of Oregon bottom land in 1861. About one decade later he sold 60 acres to the Oregon and California Railroad for $1.00 in an effort to circumvent certain county deed restrictions. The receipt of this purchase at one time hung over the threshold of the post office doorway. Mr. Drain would allow the railroad a right of way through what became a popular and easy stage route, as long as they would stop in Drain "whether they needed to or not." In no time, the railroad brought prosperity to the town and within the following decade saw the construction of many homes, businesses and public buildings. Charles Jr., one of three Drain children, and his wife Anna built was is now referred to the Drain Castle, in 1895, one year after Charles Sr.'s passing. This Queen Anne style mansion must hold thousands of untold memories, stories, secrets and legends. I only wished I'd had the time to do my own research on the dwelling while we were in Drain, but in true circus fashion I was racing with the clock and had to soak in as much as I could about the dwelling in about, oh, a half hour. My own research would have to wait...
There were too many rooms to count. The baseboards were about a foot tall and 1 1/2 " deep. Each door and window had been framed in with expertly and ornately carved wood that was in mint condition. Some of the doors had a precisely placed window above them that opened slightly with a long metal rod running down the side of the door frame, to allow air to circulate. The ceilings were high, the staircase was narrow and the bannister still solid and strong. All of the burl wood doors were heavy and the knobs and metal work were fancy and original. The second level maid's quarters was small and a little sad looking with its slanted ceiling and small windows. There was easy access to the outhouse and to a narrow, dark and creepy servants' staircase that led to the kitchen. Some of the rooms had smaller rooms attached that I guessed were walk-in closets. It turns out, at that time, clothing was stored primarily in armoires. There were no closets like we use today. Some of these smaller 'walk-in closet' looking rooms were used as nurseries, studies or storage. Today, the majority of the rooms house the town holiday decorations, while other rooms hold cases and cases of records and documents. Some rooms had been converted in office space and the kitchen, with appliances that appeared to date back to the 1950's was still clearly in use. There were a few pieces of authentic Victorian furnishings, traveling trunks, quilts and faded framed pictures of the Drain family members strategically placed to help keep up that turn-of-the-last century feel. I would have enjoyed a more lengthy tour of Drain's castle, but again, that pesky race with the clock cut our visit to just over 30 minutes. Still, no complaints here.
We returned to the lot to find a local artist sketching some circus scenes. I was impressed that she was comfortable laying her art supplies on the folded up moon bounce as she went to work, chalk in hand. She politely showed Toot and me her colorful sketches and obliged Toot's request for a piece of chalk and paper. We chatted for only a few moments before the sprinkles forced us back to the trailer and the artist back to her car.
The act went exceptionally well for me in Drain. I somehow felt even more excited than usual to perform that night. I guess a part of me wanted to give back a little extra to a town that showed my girls and me so much its history, heritage and hospitality.
Pictures to come in next entry.
