Covered bridges have been in Oregon since the pioneers began building them in the mid-1850’s. Built from timber, each was given a roof in order to protect the structure from the elements. Oregon state provided its counties with a standard building design in the early 20th century and today we were able to enjoy the fruits of over a century of construction work in the county of Linn, just a few miles south-east of Salem. We started in the town of Stayton before moving to Scio, which is apparently the “covered bridge capital of the west”. We intended to seek out as many covered bridges as we could in the time available and we managed to find 4 out of approximately 6 in the area. When you see them you know there’s something special and romantic about them and there’s a society dedicated to their preservation called, unsurprisingly, the Covered Bridge Society of Oregon. As we stood admiring and photographing the bridges we felt like Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood in the film The Bridges of Madison County. At each bridge there was a sign asking people to report any instances of vandalism and we had to wonder why anyone would want to damage such iconic structures. But apparently they do! Here are a few photos we took today:
So our morning was spent in leisurely fashion driving through the beautiful Linn County admiring not only these wonderful structures but the countryside in general. The roads were almost deserted and there was hardly a sound, save for the occasional car or the haunting sound of a slow train at a railroad crossing, sounding its horn. The train we saw was travelling at about 5 miles an hour and carrying huge loads of lumber, which is really big business in a state filled with trees.
By lunch time we knew that the local wineries would be open for tastings and so, reluctantly, we left the bridges of Linn county behind.
We visited a family-owned estate and when we rolled up just after mid-day we were greeted warmly by Janice, the owner and her very friendly ginger coloured labrador whose name escapes me. Let’s simply call him Dog. Dog liked having his chin tickled and made regular demands to have his desires satisfied. We were invited into the tasting area at the back and stood at a bar while Janice revealed the fruits of their labour a bottle at a time and we were able to sample all the wines produced here. She told us of how she came to own a winery, about her family and how they built the business. I would love to tell you about it here but I should not assume Janice’s consent to having her story published in this blog. We asked her about the ability of the winery to make money when there is so much competition out there. Her answer was unequivocal -“Oregon IS the competition!” She went on to say that this region produces simply the finest Pinot Noir – it leads while others follow.
After the tasting we were given cheese, olives, salami and biscuits to enjoy with a glass of the wine we had chosen and we sat amongst the vines sipping, eating, chatting and tickling Dog’s chin for at least an hour. Only one other couple came to the winery while we were there so we had the place almost to ourselves.
As the time came for us to leave, Dog wandered off and as we said goodbye we spotted him, leg cocked and peeing against the vines. It became instantly clear that Dog was the source of their success and the reason for the unique taste and aroma of their beautiful wines. Thanks Dog.
Next we sought out a local brewery – the Santiam Brewing Company in an unlikely-looking location within a small business park on the edge of Salem. Here we sampled half a dozen interesting ales, beers and stouts: all made on the premises. One was made with Pinot Noir grapes, another with passion fruit and pineapple. ‘Infiltrator’ was a gem, ‘Bloody Hell’ a revelation but the one I liked the most, called ‘Pirate Stout’, was partly aged in Rum barrels and so had a hint of Rum and also tasted of chocolate and coconut. It was also very high in alcohol. We stayed for a couple of hours and played darts. The more Pirate Stout I had the better I played, which could not be said for Rachel as you can see below. If you look carefully to the bottom-right corner you can see were Rachel’s darts usually ended up – in the skirting board!
“Yes Rachel, that thing on the wall with the numbers on it – THAT’s where you should aim!”
“What, you mean this round thing?”
“Err…Yes!”
And so, after a hard day sampling half a dozen wines and the same number of beers there was only one thing left to do – be chauffeured home and put to bed for a couple of hours before dinner. Thanks Rachel! And did I tell you what a great darts player you are?
Tomorrow we head for Washington state.
Be First to Comment