Chapter 2
Becky had risen at five a.m. and watched the sunrise as she drove across the Coast Range—the long line of three to four thousand foot hills that separated the Oregon Coast from the Willamette Valley. The fog had been gentle, only dusting the hollows as she climbed and descended through Maxine Pass and on into one of the richest farming regions anywhere. Mostly thirty miles wide and running a hundred and fifty miles from north to south, everything grew in The Valley—as coasties referred to it.
But what she cared most about was the hops and this was one of the premier hop growing areas anywhere. Becky doggedly had cultivated her own special suppliers.
The sun was now clear of the high Cascade Mountains that climbed to the east of The Valley and was already warming the fields. As
