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About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 1, 1985)
Introducing myself b y Lee Lu nch _________________________ Moving down Mt. Sexton out of a sea of clouds and fog, under, incredibly, a rainbow, into this sun-filled, wildflower-strewn valley that first tim e — I should have known I was co m in g home. But it took a few more days, it too k till our hostesses Tee Corinne and her lover drove for hours to show us Crater Lake. Well. I said, noting silently that Cape Cod had nothing on this incredible volcanic lake, maybe I'd be willing to talk about moving here. Maybe. That was in June, 1982. Deb Pascale and I had been working in the Naiad Press booth at the National W omen's Studies Conference in Areata, California. Rosemary Curb, co-editor of Lesbian H uns . and Chris Czernik of the Boston Lesbian and Gay History Project were also guests in that crowded household. One night. Tee made several phone calls and out of those apparently uninhabited mountains o f Southern Oregon swarmed more dykes than I would see in my first m o n th back in New Haven, Connecticut. Chris presented her slide show, I read in public for the first time, and Hannah Blue Heron played her fiddle. The group was as exciting and as w elcom ing as the mountains themselves. Had I stum bled upon a veritable lesbian Mecca? O r should I say Lesbos ... Just in case. I moved to Southern Oregon in March of 1984. "Watch out." warned my friend Taz. calling from her snowed-in suburban house in Con necticut to make sure / was all right. "Don't get involved in any of that iv e ird stuff out there. That w itch cra ft'.' I may not drink any more. Taz," I replied, "or smoke, or eat white sugar. But I'm here for the mountains and the cutlure. not wo m en's spirituality." At least, not for anything ive ird . I'd been to Rootworks and the women there were transplanted Easterners like m y self. How could I explain it to her? How just looking through, breathing in. the Southern O regon air had so bewitched Deb and I we'd packed up a condominium-by-the-sea full of furniture and cats and shipped all of our dreamy-eyed selves three thousand miles westward. Taz' skepticism reminded me of my own reluctant joy in the land. But she was. in a sense, right to warn me PRESENTS JO H N (P IN K F L A M IN G O S ) W A T E R S IN PER SO N W IT H P O R T L A N D 'S O W N D AR CELLE A N D W A T E R S ' T R A S H C L A S S IC P IN K F L A M IN G O 'S W E D . J A N U A R Y 16 A T 6 :4 5 p m ttf TICKETS $6.00 AVAILABLE AT THE THEATER J A N U A R Y 17-22 A JOHN WATERS TRASH FILM RETROSPECTIVE D E S P A R A T E LIVING . P O L Y E S T E R UN ODOR A M A) PINK FLAM INGOS Ft FEM ALE TROUBLE 26th/CLINTON • 238-8899 that behind the raibows that festoon the rainy/sunny skies, it would be hard here. My acre and a half empire is incredibly demand ing. I shudder when the rains come raging through the creek threatening to take with them my already rickety bridges. The dis tances I travel to buy a Sunday paper or a bagel, to earn a buck, would have seemed im possible to me back East. The brilliant white cast of sum m er light, the sense of these solid-hearted mountains sitting out the centuries long before me. long after me. have pulled me up sharp, turned me around, forced me to reassess my hasty, com part mentalized Eastern life — And now I’m here on my own, in training to be a rugged, independent Oregonian. Living, but for my new lover next door, alone in the woods like a back-to-the-women s-land col lectivist with all the conveniences. Nights, I walk down a pitch-black fog-shrouded country road where werewolves, for goodness sake, could get me, according to the late night movies I was raised on in New York City. Hauling wet wood, mending the barn roof (from the inside — it was raining), growing all seven tomatoes in my first-ever garden — it’s all so new and hard. But. I tell Taz in letters, it s not at all weird. It feels so natural and I'm so changed with the change in lands. I've learned how to burn wet wood. I’ve blazed my own trail up to Mother Kali's Book store in Eugene and found as fine a feminist bookstore as any in Connecticut. Ashland is about as far from me as New York City was. but the freeway is a joy to drive compared to B ruckner Boulevard. Bloomsbury Books, in Ashland, an hour and fifteen minutes from me, carries lesbian novels and you can go to good — and bad — theatre year round, in cluding Tenessee W illiams’ apparently lesbian play "Som ething Unspoken." in a re cent fantastic production. Then there’s the "Southern Oregon W omen’s Writers group, Gourmet Eating Society and Chords." Despite Taz' fear that my writing style would change radically out here I’m finding this group so supportive, so smart, so unique to Southern Oregon, that they're just what I need. And look at them! At Hannah Blue Heron whose musical fantasy "From the Other Side of Madness" was performed at the Northwest W omen's Cultural Festival in Olympia, Wash ington last year. At Tangren Pear Time's Child who's self-publishing a fascinating book called The A u to B io g ra p h y o f D eborah C arr * At Tee Corinne, whose most recent accom plishm ent in Southern Oregon has been her book W omen W ho Loved W om en.* At Ruth Mountaingrove, who created with Jean W om anspirit M agazine and is still a fountain of poetry and songs and photography. I look at these core group m em bers and thank the mountains for w elcom ing me so grandly. It's the Amazon Trail, then. I’m traveling an dw riting about. Every dyke has found at least a bit of it For some it leads only as far as the nearest gay bar. Others have criss-crossed the country, the world, connecting with other lesbians along the way. For me, today, it’s the I-5 corrdor from L.A. to Vancouver. Tom or row — who knows? Title "The Amazon Trail" thanks to Carol Tuttle. *Lesbian H uns to be published by Naiad Press, PO Box 10543, Tallahassee, FL 32302, in 1985. * The A u to B io g ra p h y o f D eborah C arr avail able from PO Box 364, Ashland. OR 97520. W om en w h o Loved W omen available at wo m e n’s book stores. Lee L yn ch is a free-lance lesbian w rite r liv in g in S u n n y Valley. O regon. She is a u th o r o f the Toothpick House, Old Dykes Tales a n d h e r new est novel. Swashbuckler, w ill appear next spring. H er co lu m n w ill be a re g u la r feature in J u s t O ut. WE DO MORE THAN TREAT ILLNESS, WE TREAT PEOPLE Our Philosophy At Medical Center Hospital we believe that chemical dependency is a treatable illness. We view dependency on alcohol and other drugs as a medical problem and not a moral one. Mens Resource Center Counseling Service Alcohol and drug abuse are not a result of your lifestyle or sexual preference. GAY THERAPISTS • • • • • Professional Counseling Low Fees — Sliding Scale Individuals, Couples, Groups Hypnotherapy Evening & Weekend f 4 1 « 235-3433 Problems ............ We Can Work It Out! Ë itt Your family members, partner, lover, spouse can participate in the treatment program. In fact, they are expected to participate. MEDICAL Chemical Dependency Treatment CENTER vn SAY Kith Avenue HOSPITAL J’orthnr! ~ a )\ J‘) > J< L><)J Just Out, January. 1985
