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The INDEPENDENT, July 13,1994
^INDEPENDENT
Serving the upper Nehalem River valley. Published
twice monthly on the second and fourth Wednesdays of
each month, by Public Opinion Laboratory Ltd., 1206
S ta te A venue, V ernonia, OR 97064, as a free
newspaper. E ditors and P ublishers, Dirk & Noni
Andersen, (503) 429-9410.
Fee increases will
pay planning costs
By the Board of Commissioners
for Columbia County
On June 15, 1994, the Columbia County Board of
Commissioners adopted higher fees for land use
planning permits.
There are two main reasons for the increase. First,
to hire additional planners to provide more prompt
service to the public. Secondly, we must have addi
tional staff to properly plan for the dramatic growth
that’s occurring and is projected in Columbia County.
If we do not properly plan for that growth, our coun
ty will end up looking like Beaverton and/or Gresham.
The congestion, traffic and urban sprawl that comes
with unplanned growth can be managed and avoided
if we have a long range plan and the people to imple
ment it.
Most of us want to see new industry, new retail
centers and a healthy local economy. It is no secret
that new industry, commercial and retail outlets are
interested in coming here. We believe, ten years
from now, Columbia County will look very different.
It’s up to the citizens, the Board of Commissioners,
the Planning Commission and our planning staff to
assure that growth occurs in an orderly manner, while
protecting and preserving our quality ofjife. We will
not be successful if we don't have the staff.
None of the Commissioners is fond of raising fees,
but like a business, we must make sure that we cover
the costs of providing service.
Even with the increase, our fees are lower than
Tillamook, Clatsop, Washington or Multnomah coun
ties and we will still have fewer staff.
Most land use actions benefit an individual and not
the majority of citizens. Our philosophy is that those
who benefit should pay the cost, not the taxpayers.
Comprehensive planning is different, however. It is
a cost that all of us must share. More importantly, if
we do it right, we can preserve those qualities that
make Columbia County special.
Letters to the Editor
may be found on
pages 8 and 9
POLICY ON LETTERS
The INDEPENDENT welcomes readers* letters, but all
• letters must be signed and include a verifiable address
and telephone number, though we w ill not print the
address and phone number. We reserve the right to
shorten or edit letters for clarity; libelous statements will
not be printed.
By Dale Webb, member
Izaak Walton League, Nehalem Valley Chapter
The morning was cool; a sweatshirt was a
must as the hunters left their tent camp. Each
hunter started peeling off as they went on their
prearranged routes.
My route was one my dad had taken me on
for a few years, until I became confident that I
could find my own way. Dad moved down
deeper into the canyon to find a new route.
Above me was Ray Taylor, dad’s faithful hunt
ing partner. As the three of us swept down into
the canyon and across the ‘side hill we would
occasionally catch a glimpse of each other in
strategic spots. I was always amazed at how
Ray would be in his assigned spot as I would
come around the hillside, even when I had
been delayed by a group of does or other dis
tractions, I could count on seeing the top of
his old red felt crusher sticking barely above
the rimrocks, then a slow wave as he moved
on.
The day was becoming warmer and the
sweatshirt was soon tied around my waist as I
started making the climb up to the saddle at
the Pinnacles. The Pinnacles was the meeting
place for all the converging hunters and was
a lso a prim e place to find an old buck. I
climbed onto the ridge and looked up toward
the rock where we always gathered; there was
Ray with a grin on his face, sitting and eating
raisins. I joined him as we waited for dad to
m ake his way up from the depths of the
canyon. The wind was rustling the quaking as
pen leaves next to the creek that surged from
the ground less than a hundred yards away.
Ray asked quietly if I had seen anything arid
patiently listened as I spilled my guts about a
few does that had surprised me. I asked him
“How about you, Ray?” “Oh, I run across a
couple of flop ears and a knothead.” he said in
his slow, steady way.
Suddenly, he pointed toward the saddle in
the ridge that lay about a hundred yards below
us. There, working its way up toward the sad
dle, was a four-point buck. Ray leaned over
and said “If he comes through the saddle, you
take him and if he comes up this side of the
ridge, I’ll take him.” Ray knew the odds were
that the buck would go through the saddle and
he was going to see the kid in action. But that
buck had a mind of his own and started
sneaking up the ridge using a row of trees as
a shield. As the buck trotted within forty yards
of Ray, he slowly raised his old zipper and the
quiet of the mountains was broken with a clap
of thunder. The buck was flattened instantly.
As we approached the down buck, Ray re
membered that dad wanted a cape for mount
ing. He said “Well I don't want to shoot him
again," but that changed quickly when the
buck got his front feet under him and floun
dered down the hillside. Saying “That’s far
enough,” Ray popped the buck in the neck.
As we skinned the buck out, it became ap
pa ren t th a t th e re w as o n ly one b u lle t
hole—and it was the hole in the neck. “Where
did you shoot this buck, Ray?” I asked. As we
continued dressing the buck, we made the
startling discovery that it had no tail; that had
been the first shot! The tail was shot cleanly
off without touching anything else. Ray proud
ly stated “Sure didn’t waste any meat.”
I learned a lot from Ray over the years;
sometimes you can learn from a friend things
that you can’t from your dad. I learned from
Ray that it was wise not to complain about the
burnt pancakes that dad occasionally made in
the mornings, unless I wanted to do some
cooking of my own. I learned that moving
slowly and being alert was very successful for
this older gentlemen and that it could be good
for me, also. I learned that everybody has cer
tain chores in camp and was amazed at how
Ray effortlessly cut the wood and kindling for
the stove and fetched the water. I was grateful
fo r the way Ray always got up first in the
morning and started the fire in the sheep-
herders stove, despite subfreezing tempera
tures.
One day Ray met up with dad and me while
on a hunt and said in his stow drawl. “ I made
a mistake, Don.” It seems that he shot a buck
that ran into a clump of trees and then came
running out the other side, so he shot him
again. After starting to dress out the buck, Ray
got to thinking that the horns were slightly dif
ferent than he thought he had seen when he
made the first shot. Playing a hunch, he back
tracked the buck to the clump of trees and
found an almost identical buck laying there
dead. Ray felt pretty bad that dad had to tag
that buck.
I first met Ray, our next door neighbor,
when I was a kid. I remember sneaking over
Please see page 3