Tag Archives: Pacific Northwest

5. The Room of Requirement: The Second Incarnation

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Stumptown

The Room of Requirement was built of wood, not water.  How did that come to be?

The story of the first forest

The Russian River opens out to the Pacific at Bodega Bay just northwest of here. From there it winds easterly and northerly through Monte Rio and Guerneville.  It’s fed by many small tributaries, including one, Salmon Creek, that has it’s origins near the small town of Occidental.  For thousands of years, The Chinook would run up the Russian River much as they still do today, depositing themselves in the pools and on the sandbars to spawn and to die. Bear and other predators once ate their carcasses, leaving much of the fish on the forest floor.  The fish provided nearly a quarter of the nitrogen taken up by the riparian forest.  The ocean became fish.  And the fish became trees.

The wood for the Room of Requirement could have been milled near around here in the heavy first generation forest that once layered much of West County.  The first sawmill was built in Guerneville by John Heald, William Willits, George Guerne, and John Bagley.  The first three of the men would go on to establish towns of their own.  Who knows what went south with the fourth?  Nonetheless, they worked with such intent felling the giant redwoods, that the surrounding area eventually came to be known as Stumptown.  Other mills sprung up:  six in Occidental, one in Freestone, many of them supplying timbers for the nascent narrow gauge railroads that were extending their tendrils north.  And once the railroads were in place, the wood could be shipped to the still infant metropolises to the south.  By 1901, however, that area of the Russian River watershed had been largely deforested and many of the mills shut down.  Thirty years prior, so many old growth redwood grew here that the region may have had the densest biomass on the entire earth.

Seattle deforested

The story of the second forest

Or the wood for the Room of Requirement could have come down from the timber stands near Seattle.  Seattle was a late comer in the Anglo settlement of North America. The Denny Party didn’t land in the Puget Sound until September, 1851, but in short order, some members of the pioneer group set the saw blades spinning.  At that time the entire Sound was blanketed in 2000 year old fir standing 400 feet high.  Nothing like that exists in the world today.  Here too, the stands of trees were seasoned and nourished by the vast flow of nutrients that each year swam seasonally up from the Pacific.  Near uncountable number of Steelhead, Coho, and King had over the millennia born a treasure of maritime wealth in their bodies, coursed it up rock and rapid to lay it rest in the woods of the Pacific Northwest.  Functionally the fish were a way to transport potential energy from the ocean upstream in the system and back onto land.  Eventually much of that energy stored in timber mass, through human agency, would find it’s way back to the ocean and to new distant shores where it would one day be released in a conflagration.

Initially the wood was harvested up on the ridge lines of Capitol and Beacon Hill and then slid down on skids (in order for the logs to slide smoothly, the skids were greased by the original grease monkeys, a well-equipped and perhaps racially-tainted slur) to Henry Yesler’s harbor side mill at the base of the slope. There the logs were cut, loaded onto large timber ships that ferried the wood to San Francisco where it was devoured up by the Gold Rush building boom. The muddy timber camp, most likely the first skid row, was a sloppy mess of a place lined with bars and piled with rowdy lumbermen, windfall buckers (those logging mercenaries hired out to buck the worst of fallen trees), sailors and drunks.  Subsequent generations civilized the area into Pioneer Square, but it never really shed it’s cantankerous bearing. A hundred and forty years later on a cold spring Seattle night, Kurt Cobain stood up in a sweaty bar room in the OK Hotel in Pioneer Square and sang for the first time, Smells Like Teen Spirit.  The band was originally called Skid Row. A few years and name changes later, they had become Nirvana.

Grunge music, of course, leads us inevitably to the Story of the Wawona.

 

4. The Room of Requirement: The First Incarnation

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Salmon spawn

Courtesy of J. K. Rowling, is that place where you hide your fears and fashion your dreams.  It’s that place that’s exactly what you need at exactly that moment.

The house we bought in Sebastopol, it turns out, is endlessly extensible.  It even came with it’s own Room of Requirement.  In it’s first incarnation, the room was the sea.

The First Incarnation:  the story of the sea

After the flood, clam and oyster and shellfish took up calcium and salts from the ocean and from these stores the engines of their DNA fashioned shell and carapace.  Plankton and algae harvested sunlight and carbon dioxide, and in one of life’s most supreme acts created green breathing matter.  The matter was consumed by other fish, krill and invertebrates who in turn were consumed by a diminutive carnivore from the family Salmonidae.  These mighty fish hatched nearly on land, kept safe by the barest sheen of water.  They grew and molted and shimmered down the tributaries to the open sea.  Those that survived ranged the cold Pacific waters as far north as Alaska.  Much of their lives to this day remain a mystery.  What little we do know, however, concerns the laying of their spawn, and their tortured journeys back up stream in which they shed themselves of everything save the desire to reproduce.  Forsaking even their own appetite, they cast themselves repeatedly against the current, battling against the gravitational and tidal pull of the rest of nature solely so that they may live.  Once they reach gravel shoals, they lay and fertilize their own spawn.  Spent, they survive only a short while longer.  Their job is done.  And in their consequent death they return once again to join us on land.

The salmon are required to do this.  Life, their life, all life in the Pacific Northwest has pulsed for ten millennia with their return journey.  It is why, in it’s second incarnation, the Room came to be a forest.