Ashland Oregon

I have been coming to Ashland since the 1980s when I lived in Spokane Washington. Then it was just for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival which runs from late February through October. A group of us would fly into Ashland airport in a Cessna 172, stay three nights and watch five plays. At that time Ashland was the Columbia Hotel, built in 1909, the Greenleaf Cafe and the theaters.

Since buying the RV I’ve spent more time here, between one and two months each year, than in my Seattle condo which is currently rented. I’m hoping to make Ashland a summer base. It’s a great town with some big city benefits without the big city problems.
 

Jackson Wellsprings is a change from the full-time RV folks. Mostly the conspiracy theories change. A few RV people are into the hate based paranoia you get on the radio. Obama, who was born in Africa, is going to take away our guns and declare martial law. (People said that about Clinton and Nixon as I recall, the marshal law thing not born in Africa.) My favorite is Obama is selling dead soldiers DNA to space aliens so they can make a clone army to come back and take away our TV remotes or something.

Here it's the other end of the spectrum. The airplane con trails are the government dropping DNA tags on us. Not sure what a DNA tag is but when jets first started leaving con trails we didn’t know what DNA was.

However when not talking about hot-button stuff the folks on the right are often much friendlier on a day to day basis. They seem to turn the paranoia off and on while the lefties, for lack of a better term, don’t come to the surface as often. (I’m sure glad almost nobody reads this web site.)
 

One of my favorite Wellsprings residents is Tom, also known as Sun Eagle. (Many of the full time residents go by one name which is not on their birth certificate.) I shot this interview with Tom in 2012, my first year at WellSprings. In 2016 he moved to another location and died in 2017.

I’m wondering if I’ll be here when the blackberry crop matures. The bees are doing their best to bring the blackberries along.

It’s difficult to photograph the little buggers. I say, “sit … stay … smile” but I’m mostly ignored. Everyone ignores old people. I guess the bees are to occupied with their tasks, busy as … well you know.