Rogue’s Roost: Paradise In The Wilderness, Part 1.
November 18, 2014 4 Comments
When I think of Rogue’s Roost, I am issued once more through the gates of childhood into a pristine and untainted world. This was a world of heady aromas, incredible beauty, the substance of dreams.
Rogue’s Roost was the summer residence of Phyllis deYoung Tucker, part of a family that owned The San Francisco Chronicle. Her main home was in Burlingame, California, an area known for wealth. I knew her as an old lady with a bright smile, a certain elegance in her gait, who often wore a broad-rimmed hat. She loved to walk through her garden, which was pungent with the smell of carrots and point out her favorite flowers. The path continued to a rocky outcropping overlooking the river. These rocks marked the coveted steelhead hole of her chauffeur, Joe Chevigny.
The swimming pool below the main Roost was a troublesome affair. Sharp flagstones lined the edge of the pool and caused one man to require stitches. I knew it only as a place to frolic in the summer, accompanied by her grandson, Nion Tucker, named for Mrs. Tucker’s husband.
Rogue’s Roost was located off of Highway 62(Crater Lake Highway) about one mile SW of Laurelhurst State Park. My father said to look for a sign that read N. Tucker. When I saw the sign, I knew we would begin to descend through a lush forest, ending up at the moss-covered Rogue’s Roost. Evelyn Ditsworth Walls, whose family settled in the Laurelhurst area in the late 1880s, gives a detailed and poetic description of this special road and of the area of Rogue’s Roost: “The road from Crater Lake Highway down to the Roost went through a large, weighted gate, which could be opened without the driver getting out of the car by pulling on a three-foot wooden handle cantilevered to the weights at the hinged side of the gate. The road wound down the mountainside through virgin forest carpeted with moss where lady slipper orchids and lamb’s tongue bloomed in the early spring… The road looped around a hairpin curve, alongside the irrigation ditch and across a bridge with rustic seats on each side before plunging down the last steep hill and around the final curve. Then the road leveled off through the landscaped grounds with a croquet court on one side of the road and a deck tennis court on the other.
The landscaping was quite informal with flagstone walks among the big trees and rockeries with coral bells, columbine, maidenhair and sword ferns. Near the river there was a natural carpet of different kinds of moss and lichens covering the ground and the large river boulders. I especially remember the exceptional beauty of the area in the early spring, when all the new growth would be bursting forth in its many shades of green, and again in the fall, when all the autumn shades of russet, red, and gold would emerge following the first nippy nights. The many dogwood trees and vine maple bushes provided bright spots in the undergrowth both in the spring and fall.”
A beautiful description of a beautiful piece of your / our world. I would love to see and experience it.
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Thank you, Peter. Unfortunately, it was destroyed by the 1964 flood.
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is there a good map that shows where the town of Laurelhurst was in relationship to the lake today?
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Not really. The lake inundated Laurelhurst from above the fish hatchery on the west side. The west side of the lake was the original Highway 62. Because of its proximity to the water all that side was buried by the lake. However, the east side, Laurelhurst Road, is another matter. Towards the end of Laurelhurst Road there are still remnants of Zella Tullis’s catfish pond and some of Weeks’s pear trees near the marina.
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