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I'm Claire O'Sullivan - a country girl from Southern Oregon. I've spent the majority of my life the small town of Grants Pass which, like Whiskey River, spans end to end ... two miles. Or at least it did, 33 years ago. The days are gone when horses clomp down the road with their riders and the farmers on their tractors wave as they drive by, hauling bales of hay.

Now the majority of us are surrounded by BMWs and million dollar homes backing up into government land (or in some casess, sliding down the hills). But I'm thankful to have neighbors who raise animals and chickens, ducks, and welllll waaaaaaay down the street, pigs.

While the simple life is retreating from Grants Pass, and the cost of home has skyrocketed, Whiskey River remains largely untouched by wild construction and the disappearance of farms and ranches. You can always come home to Whiskey River.

After I graduated from college a time back or two, I lived in Northern Minnesota. Olvegaardt (fictional town) is reminiscent of a small town I used to stop by on my way to canoeing in Minnesota and crossed with an even smaller version of Whiskey River.

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