Robber’s Roost

Robber’s Roost near Casey State Park, acquired its name from a policeman with a sense of humor.  He was Sprat Well’s son-in-law.  Sprat was an old-timer who once owned river property from Eastin’s Rogue Haven to the Obstinate J Ranch.  The Roost was a well-known steelhead hole and nearby Pat’s Fly and Tackle provided fishermen with licenses and the required accessories.  The rapid opposite the Roost had one of the largest whirlpools on the upper Rogue.  A boat might spin around for half a minute before the river relinquished its grasp and the vessel could move on.  I knew the rapid as the Cottage Kitchen riffle, because there was a small restaurant above the Roost that I liked to frequent.  This restaurant and its co-owners, Mrs. Caroline Kelsey and Miss Allyn Goss, will be the subject of a future post.  In the meantime, please enjoy the video clip below of Robber’s Roost Rapid. The 1964 flood took the rapid away and replaced it by a mild chute.

Eastin’s Rogue Haven

From 1953 until 1960, we spent our summer vacation at Eastin’s Rogue Haven.  The mere seven years appear to be so much more, since those were my early childhood years.  Eastin’s consisted of seven modest cabins and we stayed in cabin 7 at the upper end.  Eastin’s also offered a 76 gas station, a small grocery store and served meals.  In the evenings,  polished maple tables shook from the jukebox tunes, and I remember saving dimes so I could watch the jukebox in action.  Salacious post cards with double entendres were on sale to loggers that came into Eastin’s on their daily route along Highway 62.  There were also scenic postcards for tourists.  Rick Eastin, a pipe-smoking, jocular man, operated the cash register together with his mother, Minnie Eastin.  His wife, Aileen Eastin and daughter, Susie, worked in the coffee shop.  As a child, I recall trying to balance on a log outside the store and not having much success.

To go into cabin 7 is to go into a world when my senses were keenly tuned and each impression had an impact.  It was a world of wanton discovery and excitement.  Outside of the cabin was a small rocky island where my father showed me a “rock” that could float(it was pumice).  My grandma had the best view of the river, and I loved to sit in her bedroom and watch the current flow as it approached the first riffle.  We floated the Rogue River from Eastin’s to Casey’s State Park many times.  There was one spot where the river flowed over a shallow bar into a log jam.  I remember hearing my first radio announcement:  ” Yesterday a group of boy scouts were drowned when their canoe overturned and they were swept under a log jam below Eastin’s Rogue Haven.”