Glide 10/23/26

Long before I reached my destination this Friday night, I knew it was going to be a good one, because  I got off the freeway just south of Sutherlin and took old Highway 99 south through Wilbur.  I could have gone through Roseburg and it probably would have been just as fast, but I’d never been to Wilbur before, and I’d probably never have another excuse to go there.  Wilbur, it turns out, is an oddly descriptive name:  The picture the name conjured in my mind was eerily similar to what Wilbur looked like as I passed through.  It’s not much more than a big intersection with a convenience store, but if you imagine a town named Wilbur I think you’d be surprised how much it looks like the real thing.  And here’s a bit of interesting trivia to impress your friends:  Did you know that at one time the Umpqua Academy in Wilbur was the only higher education institution between Salem and Sacramento?  The academy closed in 1900, but that’s still pretty cool. 

I took North Bank Road along the North Umpqua River and headed east, which is another thing I’ll never do again.  It’s beautiful countryside out there, but there are hills, and twists and turns, and more hills, and signs every mile or so warning you about deer and elk that might jump in front of you and it was a lot more stress than I was in the mood for.  After 20 minutes the road met Hwy.138 just west of Glide, and I took the highway east into town.  138 is a scenic byway that goes up past lots of waterfalls and other scenic stuff, but the Archie Creek fire burned over 130,000 acres along the road just east of Glide in 2020.  Hundreds of people were displaced and the local economy is still recovering from the devastation.  To aid in that recovery, the first annual Sasquatch Festival was held in June, 2022 and this year it included presentations by 3 separate Bigfoot experts.  I would venture to guess there is not a single non-believer left in Glide.

I had barely gotten to the edge of town when I had to pull over and look at a sight that had me shaking my head in disgust.  I usually try to leave personal politics out of these little stories, but something has come to my attention that, as a proud citizen of the state of Oregon, I can’t stay silent about any longer.  For reasons that remain a mystery to me, our rivers seem to have a mind of their own.  They don’t feel any obligation to follow the rules that every other river has to follow, and it’s high time somebody did something about it.  A few years ago I wrote a story about the only place in the world where you can find a river that’s a tributary of a creek (I’m a Believer, Aug ’23).  Of course, that place is right here in Oregon. 

And now, here in Glide, I found two rivers that run directly into each other head-on.  It’s crazy.  Do any other rivers in other places even think about getting away with this sort of thing?  Of course not!  This is the only place in the world where you’ll see something like this. Before the collision point the Little River is heading north minding its own business and the North Umpqua is flowing west.  Then, suddenly, the North Umpqua makes an almost 90° turn to the south, and – Bam!  This breech of river protocol could easily have been avoided, but these rivers are just out of control.  I wouldn’t be surprised to find a river next week that has chosen to flow uphill, and the fact that a Colliding Rivers Visitor Center and Viewpoint has been constructed in Glide will only encourage this behavior. I just don't know what the world's coming to.

I cruised around town to get a feel for the place and found that’s it’s a couple thousand people nestled on the south bank of the North Umpqua just east of the colliding rivers.  A post office was established there in 1890 and the postmistress, a Mrs. Laird, was tasked with coming up with a name for it.  When she heard her son singing “The River Goes Gliding Along”, she decided to name the place Glide.  That song was probably a big hit at the time, but I’m not familiar with it.  I’m just glad he wasn’t singing…  Well, I can’t think of any other hit songs from 1890, but I think it’s safe to say Glide could have ended up with a worse name than it did.

There are a few residential blocks south of the highway, but Glide has almost 2,000 residents and most of the dwellings must be very inconspicuous, because I just didn’t see that many.  I found the high school on the north side of the highway, which also serves as the town’s main street, and found the loop road running north along the river where the football field is located, quite separate from the school.

The Glide Wildcats are a 3A school that stepped down to play football at the 2A level in 2018, and this season are playing in Special District 5.  Beginning play in 1948, by 1954 they beat Culver to win a 6-man B championship, and lost the championship game to Culver the following year.  But now it’s been over 70 years since they’ve played for a state title and, coming into this game at 7-0, this just might be their year.

Having, as I thought, plenty of time before the game, I found the 138 Grill near the intersection of the highway and Glide Loop Drive.  I had learned my lesson last week so I didn’t gorge myself on anything from their grill, but a quick Corona in the cozy confines of what looks to be a renovated shop of some sort was a welcome break.  Then it was time to make the short trek back along the Loop Drive to the Glide Athletic Fields, up Vernita Lane and around a corner.

I was not expecting what I saw when I rounded that corner.  I’ve been to plenty of 2A football games, and this didn’t look like any of them.  First, there were side-by-side drive-thru lanes to pay my $5 entry fee, then several attendants waving me on to the next attendant who would tell me which parking lane to enter.  It was a ten-acre gravel parking lot, carefully engineered to hold as many vehicles as possible, and I thanked my good sense not to have had that second Corona.  There were already hundreds of cars parked around me, and looking back at the entry line I could see that the flow wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon.  This was almost an hour before gametime.

With The Bucket safely wedged into its spot, I made a beeline for the small grandstand that I already knew would have no place for Ednold on this night, and I was right.  There were only spaces for a tiny fraction of the crowd in what was a fairly standard-sized 2A grandstand.  It’s aluminum bleachers under a metal roof, looks to be fairly new and very nice, but the few hundred seats it provided were either already taken or reserved, so I continued on around the field.  Cars, and mostly huge pickups, were parked around the half-perimeter that was available to them, with literal tailgating in full swing all around.  Those without a tailgate had set up their camp chairs just outside the fence that ringed the rubber running track and except for the visitors’ bleachers on the west side, almost the entire circumference of the field had been staked out by Wildcat faithful.  Several had brought portable fire pits or propane heaters.  Others had set up their grills on their tailgates. And nobody else seemed at all surprised by this atmosphere.

In my exploration I found a nice concession/restroom building at the south end of the field and, more importantly, the Wildcat Grill just across from it.  It was just a tent set up to compete with the concession stand and make money for one club or another.  The pride I felt seeing baked potatoes at the top of their menu was almost overwhelming, and my stomach made a note to come back when the time was right.

At 6:30 I started to understand why the crowd had arrived so early, and had at least a partial explanation for the size of the whole thing.  It was senior night, and the half hour prior to the game would be used to present the senior football players and cheerleaders.  There were many of them, most with large family groups and posses in tow.  Each was introduced to a list of their accomplishments, memories, thank-yous, and plans for the future read by the PA announcer, and I was struck by the way each of the 17-year-olds seemed to have their lives all mapped out.  If I would have had to fill in that questionnaire for my senior day I may have turned it in blank.  I had no idea, and barely do today.

It was a beautiful fall night as the drought continued throughout the state, and nary a cloud could be seen under the waxing gibbous moon; a little chilly, but not uncomfortably so.  It was at about this time that I stopped and looked through my program and found that the whole evening’s schedule was right there on the front page.  The tailgating had been going on since 4:30, and if I wanted to I could stay for the bonfire after the game.  I’m sure the Glide students all would have liked the chance to meet me, but I was going to have a long drive home after the game, so the bonfire was probably out, but it was also homecoming, and I would get to see that whole thing at halftime.

After the Wildcats made their entrance onto the natural turf field through a big inflatable arch beyond the south end zone, a guy rode a horse around the field carrying the Star-Spangled-Banner while the national anthem was sung by a student. I wasn't sure which flag I was supposed to be looking at or whether it was disrespectful to just be watching the horse, which was hard to ignore. If I offended anyone, they kept it to themselves. After that, the Oakers wasted no time marching down the field to score on the opening possession of the game. The Wildcats answered, though, and the score was tied at 6 after the first quarter.  I’ve heard better bands than the one at Glide that took up the north section of the grandstand, but they did play my old high school song after their team scored, as many schools do, and I appreciated the effort to make me feel at home.  By halftime Glide had extended their lead to 12-6, and it looked like this one would be in doubt until the final whistle.  As time was winding down, though, I made a break for the Wildcat Grill and got my potato with butter, sour cream, bacon, onions, cheese, and broccoli, a meal that I have christened the Full Ednold.

I stuffed my face with that Full Ednold while watching the homecoming coronation ceremony from across the field.  The princes and princesses for each class were intoduced and an explanation was given for each regarding their worthiness to wear the crown, the king and queen were announced and crowned to much whooping and hollering, and that was about it.  I could see that the princesses had dressed up for the occasion, but was too far away to really form an opinion about who really should or shouldn’t have won, but the ceremony was short, sweet, and simple, so I was content.

The Wildcats came out and scored early in the third quarter, but it wasn’t until they scored again late in the quarter that it felt like they might have control of the game.  The Oakers moved the ball well, especially on the ground, and bent the Glide defense several times but had trouble breaking it, and Glide’s 28-6 lead after three quarters felt all but insurmountable.  By that time the Oaker defense was wearing down, and in the final quarter the Wildcats poured it on to win by a final of 49-14.

I had picked a perfect night to be a Wildcat.  The crowd was massive and enthusiastic, as the cheerleaders kept everyone cheering the whole way through, and I even caught a few glimpses of the Wildcat mascot in his Wildcat suit, though he never ventured close to me.  The game was intense up until the end of the third quarter, when the Oakers began to wilt, and I got to see both senior night and homecoming.  It’s a little uncomfortable watching a 3A team beat a true 2A team when one contributing factor appeared to be fatigue.  The rosters were about the same size, but Glide’s was heavy with upperclassmen while Oakland dressed 9 freshmen.  I’m not going to complain about it this time, though, because the Wildcats stayed undefeated, and 71 years is a long time to wait to play in a state championship game, and it will be a heck of a party in Glide if they get that chance this year.

I skipped the post-game bonfire and took the highway back to Roseburg to catch the freeway home.  It had been nice to see Wilbur, at last, but it’s not really a place you need to see twice.