Desecrated City

You know when you’re so swallowed in sadness that you can’t even fake it anymore?

When you just want to be left alone but everyone all of a sudden cares about how you feel?

I need the company of the moon and the stars. The stillness of the trees and galaxies. I need the scratching of a pencil, writing thoughts that you would never dream of thinking.

I was left alone, with monstrous thoughts.

To fend for myself.

So, I turned to the forests and unaccompanied trails of my hometown.

Camas, Washington was beautiful. Country land everywhere you turned. Dirt roads, hometown stores, and the nicest of people.

Home of the Paper makers, you heard that right. Our high school mascot is the mean machine, a very scary paper shredder. Tremble in fear as we shred your paper.

We have a paper mill in the heart of Camas, hence being home of the papermakers. This papermill is what made Camas a town back in 1906.

The beauty of my city was untouchable. Until it was.

Rich newcomers came in, destroying everything that was Camas. Bringing in their fancy shops, wine bars, outrageously priced salons.

Then the houses came. Destroying what was left of the country town. Cookie cutter style houses stacked side by side, taking over the farmland. Schools being built to take in all the new kids on the block. Terrorizing the homes of nature’s finest.

The once ominous trails were being overrun by people who could care less for the beauty of nature, they just want their Instagram worthy selfie.

One of my favorite spots used to be all the trails of the gorge, more specifically, Multnomah Falls.

Multnomah has an amazing history behind it, including a handful of tall tales. Ever hear of the beautiful princess who sacrificed herself to save her native people from the terrible sickness that fell upon her tribe? Well, in short, a terrible sickness had threatened the lives of the Multnomah people. An old medicine man revealed that the sickness would pass if the daughter of the tribal chief would throw herself from the high cliff above and onto the rocks below. The chief was not willing to sacrifice his one and only daughter, so he elected to allow the sickness to run its course.

When the Chief’s daughter saw that the sickness had affected her soon to be husband, she went up to the top of the cliff and threw herself to the rocks below. Upon her death, the sickness immediately began to leave the affected people. Once the Chief realized what had happened, he sat above the cliffs and wept for his daughter, creating the falls that we see today. The mist is a form of the maiden, a token of the Great Spirit’s acceptance of her sacrifice.

Incredible tale for the incredible beauty of Multnomah falls.

All the impeccable hikes and mountains that we are so fortunately able to travel on, have been desecrated by the foolish. I know that my fellow lovers of nature feel the same way about the overpopulation that has occurred over the last decade.

Then came the fires of Eagle Creek. A few teenage boys had little the smallest of firecrackers that had a tremendous impact while destroying over 70% of all trails along the gorge.

Some of the trails have regained their lustrous wonder back and are, once again, overpopulated. A few trails, including the amazing Oneonta falls, will never return to us.

This is what my hometown has come to. Nothing spectacular, everything terrible. I was so fond of my hometown for most of my young life, and it saddens me to see it becoming what it is today.

I know this was supposed to be a story about how amazing your hometown is, but honestly, there is nothing left to be amazed by in the once small town of Camas.

I miss my hometown and what it used to be.

Sorry Camas.