Dateline: Agness, Oregon,

Nearly every week I broadcast on American talk-radio stations while en route around the U.S.A. A couple of weeks ago, my first trip around Oregon’s was the subject when a man called in to suggest I visit Agness, way up the Rogue River. So when I left Tu Tu’ Tun, I crossed the mouth of the river at Gold Beach and headed along the south bank this time.

This is a road to make any vicarious, Mille Miglia racer’s heart pound. It is so twisty that even pushing my Quatroporte to the limit, I never got over 45. After about ten miles of playing Stirling Moss, I was exhausted and slowed down to watch the giant ospreys making lazy circles in the sky. About 30 miles from the ocean, past Cougar Lane’s lodge/motel/cocktail lounge/grocery store/liquor store/boat landing/R.V. parking, the road teeters across the river on an old girder bridge and doubles back on the north bank to Agness.

Beautiful, down-town Agness is a small, tin-roofed general store with an outdoor phone booth and an even smaller post office. I pulled up to Agness Store. Joanne Morgan who had recently acquired the store (she still wasn’t too sure why), asked me if I wanted to see the jail. I explained that I had been told to come to Agness but not what I would find there—jail wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. It turned out to be a circle of trees with one gap just large enough to squeeze through; inside was a chain and padlock.

“I had a sign that said JAIL. I guess someone stole it.”

I muttered something about that’s what jails are for and asked if there was someplace in (at?) Agness that took guests.

“Oh sure, just across the airport down the road.”

The airport was an uphill pasture with a wind-sock. The road was real, and so is Lucas Pioneer Lodge...with a vengeance! I guess the name tells you this ain’t for everyone.

The Rogue River is one of the most wild and scenic rivers in the United States, a favorite of Zane Grey, and famous for steelhead and salmon. Those are fish. Now, there are folks all over the world that spare absolutely no expense to follow their muse, especially fishermen. Single-engine planes creak them into Alaskan, wilderness lakes; others jet to fish Scotland’s Tay. Here in Oregon, they come to fish the Rogue and while many stay at Steamboat, Lucas Lodge is another favorite base.

I came to the end of the road; my black car was definitely out of place. The sign read, “Lucas Pioneer Lodge • our speciality is corn on the cob • established 1903.” I parked and was studiously ignored until I smiled hello and was led into the main house by a gal with a southern lilt.

Helen Deese and her husband were visiting from Georgia to help her aunt out for the season. Seems that her great grandmother, Mary Anne Lucas, allowed a traveler to spend the night more than 100 years ago; that’s how things get started.

The ramshackle house looks tied together by string and sealing wax; on the other hand, perhaps its the vines…or the wallpaper. It looks like the parlor has been pasted with a huge crazy quilt and hung all over with doo-dahs and knickknacks—eat your heart out Laura Ashley. Upstairs are some rooms “for people who like to feel they’re in an inn; most folks stay in the cabins.”

The smallest cabin contains two units. Each has two bedrooms with bright, spanking, varnished floors, modern baths, comfortable beds, and a porch looking to the river. But the one you’ve got to have is Vernon House. It is much older and filled with its original furniture that will make any antique-er squeal. There are two bedrooms, a full kitchen and a bare, steel shower-stall.

Besides the fishing and the delightful quiet of the wilderness, the point of Lucas Lodge is LUNCH, for this is the original Rogue River lunch stop. Several companies have water-jet powered, speedboats which carry 40-50 people on the 104-mile round trip from Gold Beach and, for many, the highlight is stopping at Lucas Lodge for fried-chicken lunch.

Behind the main lodge is a long, screened, dining porch with five tables for ten. The only decoration is a collection of huge old wasp nests, and for a ridiculously cheap price, one gets a country, pan-fried, chicken dinner, with all the trimmings. There’s mashed potatoes and gravy, Grandmother’s Red Beans, corn on the cob (Helen told me the type of seed is so secret, her uncle hasn’t even told her), and lots of hot biscuits with jam. All the vegetables are grown right here and dessert is honey-sweet Crenshaw melons picked fresh from the garden each day.

House guests get a breakfast to more than fuel a day on the river and an equally hearty meal each evening. The surprise of the year may just be how much you’ll like it here.

But the surprise arrived in the mail two weeks later...

“Dear Dr. Carter,
Your publication arrived today and members of the Lucas family, friends, guests, neighbors, and employees gathered around us as we read aloud your impressions of us and Agness. We had lots of laughs…after we got over the first shock. We loved it (!), as the words are written, so the artist lets us see ourselves. You are right about so many things that we wondered if you did see the wire that wired the house to the tree…for a good reason.
There is one thing, however, that has been bothering us since the mail boat came up river and dumped your publication out from the grey canvas bag onto the counter…who is Laura Ashley? We’ve never had a Laura Ashley stay here, but in 1926, a Justin Ashley did stay here who broke the tip of his Powell rod when he fell through the steps of the back porch. Is this his wife?
You wrote that we are “real with a vengeance.” You caught exactly what our father, Larry Lucas, wanted to give to the public…genuine realism. He didn’t like newness. He was happy in this wilderness world.
Sorry you couldn’t catch a steelhead, but maybe someday you can come again. Be sure to bring your black car. The Agness Community (and me) want another look. Thank you again.
Best wishes,
Larryon Lucas Gerondale & Donna Lucas Bosman

Hehe,

Uncle Ted

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