Doug Clark: Curious crop circles a Wilbur phenomenon

Columnist’s log, star date 7/12/07:

My investigation into the crop circles found in a wheat field near Wilbur led me to an amazing close encounter during lunch.

“I have pictures of them,” 16-year-old Michelle Rohde, a waitress at the Sun Rock Bakery, said cheerily.

The girl thrust a glowing hand-held communicator under my nose. She maneuvered a finger across its small screen, causing phenomenally high-definition images of the circular patterns of bent wheat to magically appear.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“You have an iPhone?” I finally manage to gasp.

It’s the first one I’d seen. And the thing worked just like in the TV commercials.

We truly are living in the Space Age.

Oh, yeah. The crop circles that drew me to this hamlet some 60 miles west of Spokane were sort of interesting, too.

Most everyone should be familiar with crop circles. They are odd geometric patterns that randomly show up in fields from time to time.

Crop circles are caused by creative, time-rich pranksters or – to the gullible souls who tumbled off the turnip truck – space aliens.

Yeah, I’m a skeptic.

But I find it difficult to believe that creatures clever enough to traverse the vast void of space would bother to visit this planet and only contribute a bunch of lights in the skies or circular depressions in the fields.

Sorry, E.T. But when it comes to superior beings I’m voting for the Earthlings who gave us the iPhone.

Even so, this outbreak of crop circles is a Wilbur windfall.

This could prove to be – dare I say – a bigger draw than the town’s annual June festival: Wild Goose Bill Days.

(This year’s T-shirt features a goose tippling on a tractor with the words: “Wilbur Washington … A friendly little drinking town with a farming problem!” Of course I bought one.)

The signs are already promising. When I dropped in unannounced at the Wilbur Register, editor/publisher Frank Stedman told me that the July 5 issue – front page headline: “Phenomenon of crop circles comes to Lincoln County” – set a sales record for the weekly newspaper.

I paid for one of the historic issues. Later, I especially enjoyed the following excerpt from the Courthouse Reporter Incident Log:

“While cleaning out a rental house in the 800 block of Main Street in Davenport, its owner found plants that looked like marijuana, but they turned out to be weeds.”

Stedman gave me a constipated look when I suggested he start printing “Na-Nu, Na-Nu,” the old “Mork & Mindy” TV show catchphrase, atop his weekly newspaper’s front page.

Editors. Same old troubles wherever I go.

My point is that Wilburians should grab onto these crop circles as if they were solid gold rings.

With the right amount of civic hucksterism, Wilbur could usurp Roswell as America’s most spaced-out community.

It’s already happening. Just the other day a couple of tourists supposedly showed up to check out the crop circles.

The tinfoil hats they were wearing sort of gave them away.

I know. The paranormal attracts nut-jobs like Klingons to a Star Trek convention.

But, hey, even kooks spend money.

Wilbur has Mitch Sorensen and Steve Reed to thank for making the BIG discovery.

Sorensen took me out to the site and explained what happened during our ride.

The date to remember is June 27. Reed, a fertilizer plant manager, was driving on Birchill Road about 5 p.m. As they reached the top of a small rise, Sorensen noticed from his passenger’s vantage that something was askew in the field up ahead.

Reed stopped the pickup. Moments later the two set eyes on the nine circles arranged in an X-shaped pattern.

That’s right. I said nine circles. A diminutive 10th orb recently joined the mix, although some locals are referring darkly to the interloper as “counterfeit.”

I find this highly comical. Complaining about a fake crop circle is like complaining about the competence of the referee in a TV wrestling match.

Anyway, since the news broke, more and more curiosity seekers have come, creating footpaths in the amber waves of grain.

Among the visitors was none other than Peter B. Davenport, the director of the National UFO Reporting Center.

Davenport, you may recall from a previous column, not too long ago relocated his reporting center in an old missile silo near Davenport the town.

What a stroke of cosmic good fortune to have such a resource so near when crop circles mysteriously appear.

I spent about a half-hour performing my own scientific experiments in the circles. My watch kept running. My cell phone worked. My attempt to levitate failed.

Findings: I believe no aliens were involved in the making of these crop circles, a view shared by Sorensen and level-headed Wilburians I spoke with during my visit.

Reed and Sorensen, a farmer, had a grand idea that would improve Wilbur as well as humankind.

They want wheat from the crop circle area harvested and made into beer.

This must be done with the permission of Jim Llewellyn, the farmer who actually owns the now-famous field.

But once the brew was made it could be marketed with an appropriately interstellar name like “Astro Ale” or “Take Me to Your Lager.”

Speaking of foamy goodness, Wally Goddard told me the crop circles have been great for business at the Alibi, the pub and eatery he owns with his wife, Carol, on Wilbur’s Main Street.

Unable to explain who made the crop circles, Wally was pretty adamant that it wasn’t the handiwork of any local farmers he knew.

Why, Wally?

“If they’d have done it, there would have been five or six cases of empty Keystone cans layin’ around.”