Buncom Oregon

You never know who or what might show up for the parade, but everybody is invited to participate. No entry form required.

You never know who or what might show up for the Buncom Day parade, but everybody is invited to participate. No entry form is required. Just step out in the road. I thought the peace sign was a nice addition.

Normally there are more ghosts than people hanging out in the Buncom. All it takes is three flickering apparitions. The situation changes dramatically on Buncom Day in late May when the annual Buncom Day Parade takes place and the town’s population soars to 500. I’ve now been three times. If I am not off gallivanting, I’ll be there again next year. Guaranteed.

Where else could I step onto the street and become part of a parade, buy a scrumptious pulled pork sandwich from the local Lion’s Club, or bet a buck on where a pullet is going to poop?

But there was more this year— I had responsibility. The Friends of Ruch Library (FORL) was having a book sale and my wife Peggy has become president of the organization. Being First Man meant I had duties, heavy duties like carrying boxes and tables. Brawn, not brains, was what Peggy required (that, and our pickup truck).

Peggy and fellow board members staffed the Friends of the Ruch Library book sale. One of Ruch's three buildings, the long abandoned Post Office was their venue.

Peggy and fellow volunteers from Friends of the Ruch Library staffed the book sale. One of Ruch’s three buildings, the long abandoned Post Office, was their venue.

Inside books were neatly arranged on the tables I had delivered. Check out the prices! Paperbacks were going at five for a dollar, current hardbacks for a dollar fifty.

For the uninitiated, Buncom is located in the Applegate Valley of southern Oregon about 20 miles west of Medford. It was a booming gold rush town during the 1850s and later became a regional supply center. But that all ended with the advent of the automobile, or horseless carriage as it would have been known then. All that remains today are three vacant buildings, and, of course, the ghosts.

BTW, it’s weed-whacking time here at the ranch. Each day I march forth bravely with my weed-whacker. This morning Peggy gave me a bright pink water bottle to carry.

“So it won’t get lost,” she said. It sounds so much better than, “So you won’t lose it.” We’ve learned to blame inanimate objects rather than each other when things disappear. Keys hide and glasses mysteriously show up when they are ready to show up. But back to the pink bottle…

“But people will think I’m a princess,” I complained. I won’t report Peggy’s response.

Mini-VW Van had it's adult equivalent, painted exactly the same. And yes the 200 yard parade goes in both directions.

Mini-VW Van had its adult equivalent, painted exactly the same. Maybe it’s Mom. And, yes, the 200 yard parade goes in both directions.

Whoa, horsey. You can hire horses to help you harvest timber on your property. Or enter them in a parade.

You saw horsey going. Here it is coming, looking rather proud, I might add.

The parade is also a good excuse to walk your dog, and show off your orange hair.

The parade is also a good excuse to walk your dog, and show off your red hair. Small horses bring up the rear.

There was even a white mule that carried a sign urging people to take a hike.

There was a white mule with freckles that carried a sign urging people to take a hike.

Daughters of the American Revolution participating in a southern Oregon parade.

Even the DAR had a representative, this one from the Latgwa Chapter. With her lacy black umbrella, I thought she would fit right into a Mardi Gras celebration.

Every parade needs a Grand Marshall. She even carried a handmade sign announcing who she was. A writer for the Medford Tribune was along for the ride.

Every parade needs a Grand Marshal. Peggy Dover filled the position. Sitting on the right and carrying a handmade sign announcing her name, Peggy is a writer for the Medford Tribune.

Old cars galore participate in the parade. This caddy featured a panda who waved at me as the car drove by. Or maybe he was trying to escape.

When the old cars weren’t parading, they were parked for one and all to admire. There is a class to these cars that their modern equivalents just can’t seem to match.

Here’s a side view of the REO Hotrod, which would have been produced in Lansing Michigan.

And check out this beauty. To my auto hobbyist friends… is this a Model A or a Model T?

And check out this beauty. I believe it is a Model A, but I am sure my internet friend who are old car enthusiasts will correct me if I am wrong. (grin)

This guy could decorate my yard anytime, if I didn't have to do the work that went along with it. These antique autos are truly labors of love.

This guy could decorate my yard anytime, if I didn’t have to do the work that comes with it. These antique autos are truly labors of love.

In case you are wondering, Buncom is out in the country. You know you are 'out West' when you see the barbed wire.

If you needed a break from the Buncom Day festivities, all you needed to do was glance at the surrounding countryside. The barbed wire says that you are ‘Out West.’

Or stop and smell the wild roses…

Last year I featured the Chicken Splat contest on my post about Buncom Day, so I will close with it this year. Numbered squares are placed in the bottom of the chicken cage. You bet on which square the chicken will poop on. High stake’s gambling, it isn’t. NEXT BLOG: Back to Santorini.

Everybody loves a parade, especially ones that feature old cars, marching bands and wild animals.

Everybody loves a parade, especially parades that feature old cars, marching bands and wild animals.

Peggy and I live out in the country. As kids we would have referred to our area as the boonies or sticks. Given that we have a million acres of trees in our backyard, “sticks” seems particularly appropriate. Needless to say, things move more slowly here than they do in the city.

This bumper sticker says it all for country living.

Yesterday we went to one of our areas major annual events, Buncom Day. As one might expect, there was food, old cars, musicians, a parade and ghost hunters. So what if the parade was only a half block long and was repeated four times. As for the ghost hunters, Buncom is an Old West ghost town, so naturally it has ghosts. What else would you expect? I was even privileged to listen to the voice of a ghost that had been recorded in one of the town’s three remaining buildings. He was upset that someone would want to kill him. Peggy went hunting for the ghost.

You are witnessing the beginning and the ending of the Buncom Day Parade. Entrants would reach the stop sign on the right and turn around to begin all over.

The parade featured old cars (6 of them)…

Fiddlers at the Buncom Day Parade in Southern Oregon

A marching band of fiddlers…

A ferocious cougar (mascot for Ruch Elementary School)…

And a friendly mule. Check out the eyelashes!

Ghost hunting has become a popular activity world-wide. It seems like every community has at least one. Since Buncom is a ghost town, we had two separate groups competing to find ghosts. This shot reflects some of the paraphernalia modern ghost hunters with the Oregon Society of the Paranormal use.

Peggy listens carefully for ghosts in the old building that once was a store. Earlier I had listened to a ghost one of the groups had recorded in the store.

Everyone who was anyone was present, including the editor of my upcoming book and the editor of Southern Oregon’s major newspaper, The Tribune. He rode on a tractor in the parade and had a hand painted sign announcing who he was.

I found my editor, Margaret, who teaches graduate English and writing courses at Southern Oregon University, at Buncom Day. "Why aren't you at home editing?" Why aren't you at home writing?"

Margaret, who teaches graduate English and writing courses at Southern Oregon University and is editing my upcoming book on my Peace Corps experience, was also at Buncom Day. “Why aren’t you at home editing?” Why aren’t you at home writing?”

Bob Hunter, Editor of the Medford Triune at the Buncom Day Parade.

Bob Hunter, editor of the Medford Tribune, was also in the parade riding a tractor and carrying his own hand printed sign.

Plus there was gambling, serious gambling. Everybody bet on the numbers, even the kids. You might want to try this in your community. First line a large sheet of paper and put numbers on the squares created. Second, place the paper in the bottom of a chicken pen. Third, have people bet on their favorite numbered square. Fourth, place a well-fed chicken in the pen. Whichever square the chicken poops on is the winner.

Chicken splat gambling at Buncom, Oregon

The rules to Buncom’s world-famous gambling game of Chicken Splat. Watch out Las Vegas!

Our neighbor carefully places his bets.

Chicken participant in Chicken Splat gambling at Buncom, Oregon

The well-fed chicken prepares to do her part…

And leaves her mark on square number 18. Neither our neighbor nor Peggy won.

You might say we are easily entertained out in the sticks. When we returned home, one of our neighbors plopped down at the edge of our back porch to hear all about the day. She was all ears.

One of the 16 or so deer that consider our yard part of our home territory. This young doe plopped down in our back yard about 10 feet away from me and appeared to be listening to what I had to tell her about Buncom.

One of the 16 or so deer that consider our yard part of our home territory. This young doe plopped down in our back yard about 10 feet away from me and listened to what I had to tell her about Buncom Day.

NEXT BLOG: Honoring Memorial Day by returning to the Revolutionary War. After that I will return to Barcelona.

Wandering through Time and Place

Exploring the world with Curtis and Peggy Mekemson

Back to Buncom… At Home in Oregon

Ghosts, Old Cars, and Chicken Poop Gambling… Buncom Day