On The Road

Maybe I’m a little eccentric. But for some reason, being given the chance to visit another Indian reservation always excites me. I am not entirely sure why. Perhaps because often it tends to be somewhat of a cultural experience, maybe even political, as tribes all have their own unique politics, their own form of government that appears on many levels like our own.
Right now I am in Warm Springs, as in the Confederated Tribes of the Warm Springs community of Oregon. My main reason for being here is our Annual Government-to-Government Tribal and State Consultation. This happens once a year, and the real purpose is to give the State of Oregon and its nine federally recognized tribes the chance to rub elbows, network, and remind one another that there are many things we can work on together. It is the one time per year that our Governor gets together with all the Tribes for good honest discussion. Some years all the chairs get a private dinner, including tonight. Not being chair I am no longer afforded that opportunity. But last year I remember easily, as in an effort to improve relations he was seated next to me during our supper at Seven Feathers, the casino of the Cow Creek Band of Indians. Kulongoski and I did not talk too much about tribal issues last year. Instead we discussed global warming and alternative fuel sources, both agreeing that tribes could play a major role as leaders in those arenas.
The drive to Warm Springs is long, more than three hours from McMinnville, where I live. There are probably back roads to get here, but 99.9% of the people must go through either Portland or Madras, making a trip to this area always long, which is funny because in terms of pure distance it is not that far. But there are curves, hills, small towns, and snow areas, making the reservation not nearly as accessible as Grand Ronde, probably more so in winter.
As I turn off of Hwy. 26 towards Kah-Nee-Ta, the resort, the roads immediately become rough and rustic. Signs warning drivers of feral horses and free-roaming cattle are posted along the road. That doesn’t stop the first glimpse of a huge bull from being a shock, especially at night. In Grand Ronde and the surrounding area I am usually on guard for deer or even coyotes, which can cross your path out of nowhere. Hitting a half-ton bull or horse with my pick-up would be much worse.
Warm Springs is, at least at first glance, quite barren, though I have been informed they have more forest than Grand Ronde. But where Kah-Nee-Tah is, the heart of the reservation, there is mostly dry brush, some low-lying trees, and rocks, bushes, rocks, and dried grass, set amidst a maze of hills. There is, admittedly, a beauty to it all, made more so by the genuine natural quiet that occurs in places like this.
I don’t really have much experience with what one would call true reservation communities, so coming to Warm Springs is very interesting. This place is visibly poor, more than Grand Ronde. It is not in the same league as some places I’ve seen in my travels, but nobody would call this place prosperous. The first building I cruise by is a mini-mart, making sure to advertise beer. Black steel bars cover the windows and doors. Many of the other buildings look dilapidated and very rustic.
The same type of rustic quality is part of the charm of Kah-Nee-Tah. The plain brown paint is fading, and on the railings toward my room has long since peeled away. The stairs nearby have plastered holes which have not been painted over.
I am not writing this to provide an unflattering picture of Warm Springs. But I am telling people what I see, because complaints about a number of things in Grand Ronde seem less compelling compared to what I’ve seen over the past two days here. This tribe really would benefit immensely from a better source of revenue than Indian Head Casino, getting to which is hardly convenient. But their problems would still be a long ways from solved, as evidenced by the man and woman who stumbled out of the hotel bar as I sat trying to catch the nighttime sports updates. A local at the same bar explains to me how a local market has Oregon’s highest beer sales. I don’t know if that is really true, but part of me really hopes not.
This morning on my way to the Oregon Tribal Gaming Alliance meeting I run into, almost literally, a Warm Springs Tribal member who knew me from somewhere. I really don’t remember where I met him. He asks me why Grand Ronde can’t just back off on this whole Cascade Locks affair. I explain to him that it’s really not that simple, that some members of our Council really feel like a Cascade Locks casino would hurt Spirit Mountain. He thanks me for voting against Grand Ronde’s actions a few times. How on earth he would know something like that I can’t imagine. But then again, I’ve heard said that nothing’s confidential in Indian Country.
I am enjoying my time here right now. Tomorrow I will hopefully get to speak with the governor. At the least I will get to meet with other Tribal leaders, and they will congratulate me on surviving the election. One tribal leader has told me their General membership will be voting on the Council pay raise. Another tells me they will be having their own Council elections next month. It still impresses me the parallels between Grand Ronde and other tribes. Our issues are not as unique as we think.
It almost seems like tribes all go through the same pattern, the same history. Warm Springs is right now perhaps what Grand Ronde was 20 years ago, the poor tribe still hoping for that big break. Whether that break ever happens hinges largely on the leadership, I suppose. It is our job to recognize when opportunities present themselves, or when a certain path will lead us nowhere.
Warm Springs elected half a new Council last spring. I look forward to watching them, having been through something similar myself.