While connecting the communities of Gold Hill and Eagle Point, Oregon, State Route 234 passes through Sam’s Valley (the basin was named after Chief Sam of the Rogue River Tribe). Impressive views of Upper and Lower Table Rock dominate the nearby horizon. Turn North from the modern highway, however, and the weathered remains of the town appear. It’s only a fifteen-mile drive from Central Point so Lisa and I venture there on occasion to admire the still-intact schoolhouse. Up the road, the ruins of a gas station sit alongside the shoulder. Follow the main thoroughfare east and a Chevron is immeasurably more convenient — especially given how the older pumps are rusted relics now — but I’ve never stopped to snap a picture of the up-to-date facility.
In my previous post, I called myself an accidental blogger since I had only joined WordPress to get a website. Even so, as a means of cataloging my three novels and thirty-three pieces of art (the only ones of which I still have photographic records), colinturnerswork.com had finished serving its purpose long ago. My first blog post was dated August 15, 2020. Here I am, eighteen entries later, still claiming that I don’t have very much to say. It has become a kind of creative outlet. I may not have foreseen the blog feature’s utility but, to be honest, I have enjoyed being my own biographer.
How does it relate to a broken-down gas station? Eventually, the future won’t include us. Who doesn’t dream that, after we’re gone, somebody will appreciate our accomplishments? I don’t expect to see my work hanging in The Louvre. No, my little corner of the internet is the digital equivalent of an out-of-the-way place that a traveler may happen to notice, where they might stop to snoop around and maybe discover that I had done something worth remembering.