Barely There

This funky driveway and gate is located on the highway to Sisters, about two miles west of Redmond.  The sign let's you know you're at the "Barely There Ranch."  We've driven by it several dozen times and it's always intrigued me.  I've stopped by the side of the road to take a closer look several times, but hesitated to actually open the unlocked gate and wander around uninvited.  A closed gate between me and another person's property still means something to me, even in this age when vandals spray paint every flat surface they find. 

Thank Goodness, the vandals have not had much success in our town.  I've only seen three places that have been so brutally attacked  in Redmond, and all three of these blights were rather small, puny efforts as if the vandals were unsure of themselves.  I can't stand the uncivilized behavior exhibited by these little, and not so little, heathens and it makes me wish for the days when a person could pull out his six shooter and take care of problems like that in a few seconds.  I shouldn't fret - I'll probably see the return of something close to that kind of justice in my lifetime.  Oh well, back to the subject at hand.  As the Beatles once remarked I'm "so easily called away." 

We passed by this place again this afternoon and I noticed a guy putting a "For Sale"  sign on an RV in the field just to the right of the gate.  We pulled over and I hailed him.  He came over and I told him how very much I enjoyed his display and asked if we could look around a bit and take some pictures.  A great big grin flashed across his face and he told us we were welcome to do that.  "Take your time,'" he said.  "I did all this just so folks like you would stop in."  I went back to the car, grabbed Carolyn, Muffy and the camera and we walked around his field for a while.

He has a whole town there.  I snapped this shortly after entering the gate, and closing it behind us, as we walked up a gently sloping hill.   There's a gas station with a pump from the same era as the rusted out hulks of the cars.  I wonder if, in some long ago time, gas from it's nozzle actually filled one of the several ancient cars.  And, were any of them ever repaired in the garage who's hand painted sign is now nailed to this scaled down version?  We looked through the glass window pane at the various old items on display inside.  Jim, the owner, has done a good job collecting artifacts, old oil cans and the like, and I'm thinking that if I ever catch him again, I'm gonna donate an old Aircraft Oil can to his collection.  It's from the same era, and one of my most prized possessions, but it belongs in his service station.  Not on a shelf in my garage.

Next to the gas station and garage, he's built a house of ill repute.  The sign reads "Beware pickpockets and loose women"   The cat house is conveniently located so that customers can spend some time there while the car is being repaired, I guess, and also on the way home from work at the other place of employment in the town of Barely There, the local mine. 

Yep, that's right.  To pay the pretty ladies, the miners could trade some of the stuff they dug out of the ground that very day.  The mine is dug into the side of the hill. We couldn't get in and pilfer anything valuable 'cause the last guy out locked the doors with a really old and big padlock and chain, so I have no idea how deep they dug to find the yellow metal.  Must have been quite a haul - there are several ore cars and an engine to pull them on tracks that lead out of the hillside.  There's also a nozzle, the type used by hydraulic miners back in the days when it was legal to wash a whole mountain down the stream, set up close by.

There's a lot more, there in Barely There, and we loved wandering through Jim's anachronistic creation.  It took us a lot longer to see his work than I had thought it would.  On the way out, I had Carolyn pose with one of the gate guards.  Jim guards his collection from the outside world with a couple of rusty trucks loaded with flowerbeds.  Fitting.