Halfway, Oregon

Dee is across the road pulling up grass and feeding it to the horses and cattle. More accurately, to the horses. The cattle gallomped in retreat as she approached. Now they’re standing about 20 yards away looking at her offering from the other side of the fence, the side they can’t reach. But unlike the horses, they can’t seem to figure out that she is offering them something they’ve stretched their necks for.

About a quarter mile away in a large covered arena six teenagers are learning how to rope a cow. The instructor pulls a dummy cow on a sled while a student races after it, rope a ‘twirling over their head. When it’s not their turns, four of the girls dare each other by standing in their saddles and dancing.

Don’t know where Halfway is from or to but it’s an attractive town of about 400 souls in a valley with the Willowa Mountains wearing shawls of snow in the background. They’re a religious sort; a sign at the town’s entrance list four different denomination churches. There must be some fierce preaching each Sunday to maintain each church’s membership. They are so proud of their graduating high school seniors that each senior has his/her own light-pole picture banner.

This is the very dry side of Oregon, at least it usually is. If we had arrived two days ago we would not have been able to continue due to historic flooding. According to the locals, an unusually light winter snow pack turned into a very big one in late March and early April. Then the weather turned warm and started the snow melt. When that was combined with last week’s massive rains, the flood came. One woman I talked to said she was trapped in her ranch, due to road washouts, for a week. Massive dump trucks have rumbled past me for days. Now I know why. I was hoping to visit an acquaintance that lives in Joseph, OR, north of Halfway. The road leading to Joseph has been closed for several days due to numerous washouts.

Rode up on two Brits, brothers, who are doing the same TransAmerica route. They hope to end in Yorktown, VA, the route’s end, by July 31. Very aggressive schedule. They’ve toured all over Europe and decided the next adventure would be across America. One of the brothers, a 51-year-old retired Oxford police detective, makes all the plans. He has made some online police friends over here. The new acquaintances have invited the duo to visit them on their trip. They stopped at an Oregon officer’s house the day before yesterday. He took them out shooting after showing them his arsenal of 31 guns. One of the guns they fired was an AK47. In his 30 years as a British police officer Alan never handled or fired a gun. He remarked on the number of shot-through road signs they’ve seen. “Does everybody in America own a gun?” he asked.