EDGE LORE By Pete/ Lindsey Just as the w in d , sea, and ram give shape to the natural features of the upper Left Edge, so the folk traditions the tales, superstitions, hum or, and legends in the oral tra d itio n of our area shape its cultural histo ry. Tillamook Head and Neahkahnie M ounta in both figured prom inently in the lore of the Clatsop C hinooks and the Nehalem Tillam ooks (Killarnooks). Tillamook yo u th reaching adolescence w ere sent to Neah Kahnie M t., long the site of choice for vision guests and "p o w e r" dream s Young men fasted on its slopes in isolation, u ltim a te ly hallucinating and dream ing "P o w e r" arising from the in te rpretatio n of these dream s linked these new adults w ith their past. W ild W om an, a shape shifter like Proteus, played a prom inent part in these visions In itia lly of rare beauty and charm , she could tra nsfo rm rapidly into a tattooed harridan, treacherous and ghastly to behold Low er C olum bia Clatsop Chinooks follow ed certain rituals and techniques w hen preparing the first spring salmon caught each season. M any contem porary sport fisherman also handle the first returned fish w ith extrem e care, propitia ting the forces responsible for its arrival. For Chinooks, the follo w in g rules prevailed when the prized first fish was obtained: 1) The fish must not be cut (steaked out) but split along the spine 2) It must not be steam ed, but roasted 3) Spits roust be made: one for the head, one for the back, one for the roe. one for the body 4) The gills m ust be burnt. The legend of the Neahkahnie Treasure persists as the most famous lost treasure m yth location in Oregon. A ccord ing to some versions, the famed Tillam ook Indian chief Kilchis descended fro m a black sailor w ho alone survived the ship w reck of a Spanish galleon bound for Spain from the Philippines loaded w ith gold bullion Scores of treasure dreamers have sought its location and continue to do so The arrival and settlem ent of this niche of the le f t Edge by Europeans, Russians, Asians and "Boston M e n" from the eastern United States, introduced (additional ingredients into this basic broth of legend and native tradition, now become a rich ste w of m yths, tales, folk techniques, jokes, tradition al recipes and general flap doodle. I collected the follo w in g local m aterials on the north coast. Versions appear in Oregon FQlkJqre. edited by Suzi Jot .»•, and The Well I raveled ( Tom Nath and Twllo Schofield A few are collated and indexed in the Randall Mills A rchives at the U niversity of Oregon. Frank Hamm ond, venerable Cannon Beach fisherm an, told me this anecdote over a jelly glass o f w hiskey: "T w o old fisherm an up at Astoria w ere to llin ’ h o w big a fish th e y 'd caught. This one old fisherm an said he’d caught a Chinook salmon w eighed a hundred and fo rty pounds. The other fisherm an spit out a gob of snoose. "I d o n 't believe th a t", he said "W ell, I d id ." "T h a t's n o th in " says the other old boy. "I was fishin here the other day and cau ght on to som ethin. I drug it around and it w as an old ship's lig h t." "A n old ship's light?" "Y e a h ." "W ell, w h a t's that? An old slap's light c o u ld 'n t be m uch." "B u t," he says, "th e light was still burnin g in it." "Oh, the light w as not bu rn in g ." "W ell" he says, "te ll you w ha t you do. You knock o ff about a hundred pounds of that fish and I'll b lo w out the lig h t." Cannon Beach has its weather bone ra ttling w inds, rain at 60 angles, foam scuffs driven like sno w balls during November gales. We w ell barnacled coastal types revel in stories and recollections about w eather severity and adversity. Vic Olson, the dean em eritus of local M unchausing told me of this fog encounter several years ago. "W ell, this one sum m er morning, my pardner and me w ere going to shingle this old barn. Foggy, w h e w ! That m orning the ground fog lay in around here thick as oatmeal. C o u ld 'n t see nothin. Had to get the job done tha t day so w e get up on the roof and started sh in g lin ’ . Along about noon, the sun com e ou t bright and burned the fog aw ay. We w as out on the edge of the roof, w hen the ro of broke o ff and we fell eight feet to the ground! "Dam n fog had been so thick we c o u ld 'n t see that w e 'd shingled eight feet past the edge o f the house! Fog so thick it t id held up that roof .solid til the sun came on strong and m elted th a t fog aw a y " Local coastal grocery establishm ents. taverns, Am erican Legion Halls, and post offices have long been gathering places for the raconteurs w h o dissem inate village lore. Bill's Tavern, the A rch Cape G rocery, and Osburns G rocery porch, home of the "layb irds", are no e xce ption . T hirty some years ago. the Sunset Tavern occupied the plot n o w taken up by G rant’ s Landing R estaurant in Cannon Beach. Stanley W ytaske, proprietor, was a taciturn and n o torio usly frugal man. On a certain evening m 1963, a local logger brought his coh orts into S ta n le y's place, slurped up gallons of M iller beer and tried to get the old boy to buy the sta lw a rts each a free one Stan w o u ld n 't budge No free beer Stories are p o te n tia lly p o w e rfu l. This one moved Stanley to utte r in his rough voice "A round on the house for you b o y s ." One day a logger w as w o rkin g up behind Cannon Beach settin g chokers and com plaining Suddenly a ferocious voice came out of the sky, asking w h a t all the griping was about. The logger looked up and realized it was God talking, so he started to explain w hat a miserable life he had been leading His only hope was that he m ight go to a better place of rest when he died. God looked do w n and said, "W ell, I'll tell you w hat I'll do If you can accom plish a few things tha t need doing around here • projects that I h a v e n 't had tim e for I'll make sure you get into H eaven." The logger agreed. God said, "The first thing I w ant you to do is move tha t big m ountain o ff there (Saddle M ountain) farther south, close to Cannon Beach." So the logger w orked for years and finally finished m oving it a shovel full at a tim e Then he called God and God spoke to turn and said, "T h a t's good, but I've got another thing for you to do. I need the south fork of Elk Creek moved about tw o miles farther n o rth ." So the logger slaved aw ay for years and finally rerouted the creok and w e n t to call on God again. God said, "T h a t’ s good, but th e re ’ s one more thing y o u 'v e got to do, and then you can bo assured o f a place in H eaven." "W h a t’ s th a t? " asked the logger. "Go do w n to S tan le y's Tavern in Cannon Beach," said God, "and sit there drinking til he buys you a beer on the house. W hen he does tha t, you can be sure of a place in H eaven." As the story goes, you can go do w n to that tavern to this very day, and that logger is still s ittin ’ there w a itin ' for a free beer. The love r's lane saga "The Man W ith the H oo k" has long been a titilla tio n to teenage sensibilities. Cannon Beach has its variant. "The S tory of the Bandage M a n." The Bandage Man skulks from the u n d e rg ro w th just north of Cannon Beach, terrorizing passing m otorists on rainy nights and sloughing o ff gory shards of his m um m y wrapped bandages. Oral traditions infuse our lives w ith richness and color. Our coastal com m unity bears its o w n unique stam p of traditional m aterial. I w ould like to leave you w ith a recipe for pickled spring salmon given to my brother by a gentlem an o f Finnish descent. Pickled Salmon Combine: 1 1/2 cup vinegar (5% w hite) 1 cup w ater 1/2 cup sugar 2 tbls brow n sugar 1 tbls celery seed 1 tbls m ustard seed 3 crushed bay leaves 1 tbls cloves (w hole, 3 lbs spring Chinook salmon several onions Bring this liquid to a boil. Cool com pletely. Loosely pack chunks of onion and salmon (bite sized) in quart jars. Pour liquid over fish and onions. Seal jars and w a it a week before consum ing. Keeps 4 6 w eeks. I don’t u n d e rs ta n d women. T h is w i l l come a s a g re a t ¿ u r p r i s e t o m ost o f my fe m a le a c q u a i n t a n c e s who c o n s i d e r me t o b e k in d , s h a r i n g , g e n tle , c a r in g , d e e p ly s e n s i t i v e , yet a c y n o s u r e o f m an ly v i g o r . T h u s, I was s u r p r i s e d when H e r s e l f , t h e l i g h t o f my l i f e , re a c te d to a c a u tio u s , s e n s itiv e ly p h ra se d com m ent a b o u t a d e p a r t i n g f r i e n d w ith A le x , you a r e s o p r e j u d i c e d : Words seem ed to fa il h e r. S he t u r n e d arid lo o k e d away from me in a p p aren t d is g u s t. "What d o you mean I ’m p re ju d ic e d ? I m anaged t o k e e p my v o i c e from g o in g u p m ore th a n one o c ta v e . A ll I w o n d ered was tu •' G e n d e r o r i e n t » . . Bob? I ’ ve known 0 1 ’ Bob f o r y e a r s . A ll e v i d e n c e I 'v e seen in d ic a te s h e 's a ra v in g , te s to s te ro n e d re n c h e d h e te r o s e x u a l. Why I renv eu b er o n e tim e in C o o se Bay w h en . . . " You r e a l l y a r e a p i g a r e n ' t you. I d o n ’t e v e n w an t t o be s e e n in p u b l i c w ith y o u . T ake me h o m e! ” "Home? I t ' s o n ly j u s t a fte r t ii n e , t h e band j u s t s t a r t e d . " “ I s a i d t a k e me hom e!" D r iv in g h e r home I b e g a n to h o p e t h e r e was s o m e th in g good on TV. I t was o b v i o u s l y th e o n ly e n te rta in m e n t I was g e ttin g th a t n ig h t. * * » » ♦ » » H a r r y fro m W est V i r g i n i a s a y s t h a t t h e sam e p e o p le who w e re w o r r y in g s o m e th in g m ig h t h a p p e n t o G e o rg e Bush and l e a v e u s w ith Dan Q u a y le now w o rry t h a t s o m e th in g c o u ld h a p p e n t o H i l l a r y and l e a v e u s s t u c k w ith B i l l . C o u ld b e . . Carnal D ining O v e r/o o iin g Tfie N eatvcca Rivat tre»h Seafood Dinner« M o lM n d w k h r » Splilta Home Baked Deaaerta Sunday Brunch rA U T Il < ITY OR ,503) 9 6 3 6 7 2 2 The individual who pollute» the air with hi« lu