Petersen Rock Garden

North of Bend Oregon.

UPDATE: this property has gone on sale, and a foundation is trying to start up to purchase it. https://www.facebook.com/SavePetersenRockGarden/posts/pfbid0fE9kkKXhvJP3MTN46Ne5F683dbyxqvMNasD6PJusBSZdwwk7eDXpbhhwJBs1xhnLl

Distance: Not much, but watch your step. Wheelchairs, only if they have big wheels. Dogs are OK, but the peacocks may take umbrage.

Fee: $6 donation

In a life of visiting weird places, this is one of the most weird. It was weird when it was created, and only gets weirder as it fades into obscurity. There is no tech associated with this place. The people that caretake are from an earlier time, a different mind set entirely. Finding information on the Rock Garden is almost impossible other than the Wiki Page.

In the early 1900's, a young man leaves Denmark to emigrate to a place as unlike Denmark as can be, Central Oregon. The farming is good if you can get water.

But what really got him were the rocks. The arid, open grasslands are rich in interesting rocks. Huge hunks of obsidian and jasper. Geodes and quartz. The river have smooth colorful stones. And as happens his inner rockhound comes out and he starts collecting.

In 1935 he starts building in his spare time. Remember this guy is a farmer. Spare time is rare indeed. Once he starts building he does not stop until his death in 1952.

The property continued as a roadside attraction, maintained by the family. And it is still managed by his granddaughter, but maintainace has not really continued. The grass is mown, but the peacocks mess the place. The features are weeded by what ever volunteer is willing to do it.

There is a shop/museum in a ramshackle shed. If you get a chance, look at the old photo albums and post cards. They tell a story of days gone by. Dusty old shelves. But the stones on exhibit would be coveted in any major collection.

I fear that this attraction will not last much longer. Visit even if you have to drive hours out of your way. You will be able to say 'I went there.'

I will leave off descriptions as there are no words to compare with the glory of the stones themselves. But know that the photos are a feat, as my hands were trembling.

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