Saline pres day 2009
see picasaweb.google.com/terryw100 for pix
Benton days, cathy for 4, Jason inyo zorka johnnie and rodger for mon night, then ski tues blue skys deep pow, then only inyo, great help, now my second son.
Load up camper, bert in hospital w chf, flown to reno, charlotte taking it in stride. We toil at packing, prepping the camper, organizing shit. Long day. Second spare doesn’t fit, so I leave it, chains are perfect, 2 sets for snow on the n pass., or steel pass? We’ll know when we get there.
Kk arrives 730, good fast trip from sunnyale the landcruiser now in its new home. We party and chow down, and sleep. Frenzy of packing in the morning, but off at 830 to bishop and after a quick shop to big pine, Linda meets us and we head off up the hill.
N pass looks doable, I decide to try it without chains and forge ahead, 4-5 tracks beaten it down, no snow at marble cyn, but 2.5 feet at n pass, sledding down. Meet Kevin fixing cable chains trying to get out, no good, help him turn around, he came in leading johnnie and rodger. Sledding down whipporwill cyn, and out onto the dry fan, the valley spread out for 40 miles before us.
We take mellow breaks, on to willow creek, no dave, into the springs to great greetings from tom “hi there birthday boy” from the crystal pool. Check in with lee and off to find johnnie at checker gulch. Retrieve the bar from the upper springs. On loan from drummer dan. Great place set up barely then to upper in inyos truck for good soak, more people and great sunset. Dinner good, we party, I crash as others go to the lower for songfest.
Up early to yip of coyotes, now im 66, wow, this is gonna be fun. Early coffee (borrow inyos filter holder, forgot mine) and off to sunrise pool to jim Christie, Christine and turtle jim who seem to be a couple, ken and Linda, skip and terry, the usual suspects. I send invites for the potluck tonight, planning the attack. Back to camp to cook the d.o. a pineapple upside down cake, then to snooze, set up big tarp and poptop in raging wind, clouds come in, snooze and the storm blows through, a short storm, “gimme one of those any day” my comment. Set up for party, to upper for a quick soak, the usual suspects are all there, crowded into the wizard pool. Dave gives me bday present: the wizards hat, now I am the new wiz, a petroglyph rock he made, and an elkhorn pipe with mother of pearl plug.
We arrive to find the party started already, more usual suspects, Kenny b, timbo, silver bob and michelle, major tom, a great gang, oops theres garbage mike pulled in, he has his dick nose down in the crotch and we hug and laugh, thank god he’s over his snit. Fire up the barby but that’s gonna take a while, so I fire up the big stove and just lay the turkey and beef on there, smoked to perfection in harry’s coffin smoker in benton.
The banter begins and stories continue, all great storytellers, and strange tales of the valley, the guy with a 2wd d rental exploder who came in without chains, and couldn’t get out s pass, tried lippencott, put holes in the oil pan, blew the engine, and hiked 10 miles to the springs, guided by gps, knocked on lees door at 3 am and he set him up in the nps trailer for the rest of the night. Millers came in (hertz told him to get the vehicle to a paved road, not closed and they would take it from there.) $200/hour later they were towed out and on their way to lalaland. They read the nytimes article on saline and gave it a try, in bad conditions., oh well they learned the hard way, maybe word will get out that its not an easy place to get into.
Feed up, great smoked turkey and tritip, skips beans, other assorted dishes, great conversation, wine, more tequila than needed. Introduce kailen and inyo as my sons. My minions, mymadons or whatever. Inyo is pleased to be the chauffer. They go off into the night to shoot propane bombs, and dave and johnnie and I cruise to the lower, play guitar, sing, leave chair hidden and with a last chorus of pancho and lefty, with Barbara on dobro and chris on mandolin, we fade into the nighttime. Rodger and I put in some fire time and im out. Dog bark at 3 am, coyote bait, back to sleep with 2 bags over me, cold, dawn is clear, and another perfect saline day begins.
Wake slowly, no soak but great sunny morning, no w word, visitors come and go, ken retrieves his chairs, we talk of the desert and events to come. I write and draw a transect of the saline geology, following the pattern of the owens valley one, and put all the geology on one view. snooze and banter and wake again to the call of the golf game, time to head on up with inyo-choffeur, I bring chair, golf club, cooler of beer, and time to party. People have come outta the woodwork, we party on with the best of the best. Sign up, get card, get numbered ball, pencil and saddle up with a team: ken, party favor with a full bottle of Forestville merlot, taking straight shots outta the bottle. Wild man. We spot for the long 3rd hole, then kick off our round. I flub the first shot into the rocky desert pavement, pissed, dump my pack and sunglasses. And run into rough territory, finally get out into the fairway, a narrow gulch, festooned with low desert holly bushes. Another shot and im on the green, putting into the circle of rocks that is the hole. I yell at ken to pick up my pack, and he does, but neglects to note my sunglasses sitting on top and they are lost. I can’t find one lens after my first shot, so I look for a while to no avail, every rock and piece of sand a mosaic, hiding everything.
We play on, party favor is getting fucked up, but he has some good shots, we keep moving, and spotting, giving us a chance to savor the view, the picket fence, snowy heights of the inyos, scanning south to s pass, and hunter mt, and then around to the saddle of steel pass, the saline range and long low slope of the volcanic ridge of black mt. Groups of people scattered all over the fan, rocks and gullys hiding and revealing a sizable crowd of 50 or so golfers on the same course. Many with beers in hand and great costumes, ken has a huge bow tie and shorts and that’s it.
Finally finish up with a couple of good shots, and near miss putts. We crowd around the final hole for the shoot off, two guys at 15 for 5 holes. Pretty good for a bunch of non-golfers. Im a bit wiped, so inyo shuttles me down to camp into another session with garbage man, then incoming jeep with timbo, solvi, Kenny b and Lorenzo, again without pants. We party down and have a great time with some bloody marys, finishing the vodka and eyeing the tequila, saving it for later.
They leave in a flurry of insults and banter, we all take it in stride. I snooze until the return of the gang, kk has hiked peace mt solo, inyo is partying with the santa cruz gang, found his old friend tito from southlake tahoe and we go on and on telling stories and cruising. David comes by with the long white beard. He was at fish lake hot springs when I was giving tours of the sump to the locals in Benton.
Dimming of the day, sun down, rumors of storms coming but it all is clear here, the famous saline valley bubble. Shunting the fronts to the south and north. We revel in our special place, hanging around the fire looking at another evening of social music around the fire. The bluegrass band plays with rodger on bass, and we sing along, banter about, pass the tequila and jagermeister bottles and generally have a good time. I am still tickin after a double nap day, david sits next to me and I play along for a while, try knockin on heavens door, to no avail, and finally fade into the night. Stashing my chair behind the library for the game tmw. Sleep well, dreams of raging storms swirlinig in my head, but wtf? I have no schedule, I can stay a few more days if steele pass gets snowed in.
Up again and attem, laze around camp then head for the lower soaks a good shit in the shitter, festooned with drawings of burros and desert holly. People are going slowly, I soak in the sunrise pool, get good and warm, then head for the noise of timbos voice and camp. We sit around and banter, solvi is there, Lorenzo has finally put pants on, Kenny shows his balls, and terry goes into a long soliloquy about how mens dicks all look the same, and their balls are really different. Lorenzo recalls touch and go harry’s daughter dressed as a nurse and going up to johan at bat and wrapping his dick with elastic tape. To the great entertainment of all. Skip gives a call for omlettes and we troop over, elanor the wiener dog lying in the sun on the sisal rug, terrys mom hanging out sitting on a pillow, timbo, hairy beast that he is, presiding over the crowd. Skip appears in the door of the camper periodically with omlettes for all, with potatoes. He was cook on merchant marine ships and knows how to dish it out.
Over to pay respects to Christine and turtle jim at their camp, nestled in the trees by the burro spring. Nice conversation to catch up with Christine, still raging in pioneertown, and living the good life of a dual patent holder for amgen retired at 55. leave the calendar from hotel congress for jim macey, get a buzz,I take my leave and head back to camp, johnnie takes the d.o. to timbo, and kk and inyo are practicing throwing the softball, I duck as I pass under the line of fire. Fire up the generator and write this, now off to preside over announcements at the ball game in my elvis outfit with top hat.
The parade has started, flags waving, loud music, cheerleaders in skimpy outfits, uniforms of lower springs skins-in red, and upper springs misfits in black uniforms. We get in the mood with banter, greetings of old friends and new, inyo has backed his truck up to the spectator line and we mount chairs on the bed, looking out over the scene. Christine is in her black whip woman outfit, I have my red pimpdaddy coat on and elvis wig, and tyvek jumpsuit. I fire up the waist loudspeaker, and am ready for action.
I get the lists from each coach and with great fanfare take center stage and introduce the players. “And its darrel the gray at shortcock!” comes spilling out, each person with a different characteristic. All characters. The teams assembled, we sing the national anthem, the star strangled banana, with great gusto, I shout “Play ball” and we are off to another mayhem of long shots, short shots, cheers for both sides, the skimpy cheerleaders lurking in the background, no flashing the batters, the audience well-lubricated, great comardarie, like a big quagmire of whirling bodies, costumes, sizzleing balls and always cheering and shouting. Mike the garbage man is there in his dicknose outfit, picking up trash, with a safety vest on that says “business is picking up” on the back. The upper springs springs ahead 10-4, but the lower closes the gap. A ferocious double play happens right in front of us at 3rd base, with one runner caught off base, and forcing another out coming in. great arguments, kicking of dust at each other, all in good clean American fun. At the end the upper has it by 6 points but not after a big comeback from the lower, michelle parades the score in front of us, yelling “more steroids, more steroids”.
The sun is in and out, the air cold and freezing with a slight wind, but enough sun present to keep us from diving for cover. A big storm is coming in tonite, with 10 feet of snow predicted at mammoth, and snow levels to 3000 feet, and people are getting antsy about getting out. We all agree steele pass is the answer, the lowest at 5000 feet, and make plans for the next steps toward leaving. Already a caravan is headed to the south pass, the preferred route.
I snooze then get inyo to give me a ride to the upper for a raging potluck and bonfire and long soak with a crowd in the pool. The santa cruz ravers have found a nice hollow to party in, shielding us from incessant techno beat and their shouts and screams and piddly fireworks. I blow off a couple of mortars in retaliation.
Back to camp on garbage’s tailgate with tom and Carolyn, to find a party happening, newcomers also ariel and steve and her precious dog, guitars out, fire blazing, and good times. I play and sing and Barbara and chris come by and sit in, david brings his guitar and steve the ukelele man holds forth with his special brand of craziness. It is tiresome, tho and im ready for bed, the storm is coming in, we can smell it, wind picking up and I bed down in the disheveled interior of the camper and zone out with earplugs against the din.
Awakened by the pitter patter of raindrops on the roof, and emerge to find the place closed down, no mts visible, fog hanging in the valley and stuff to be organized. Kk and johnnie come out too and start packing for the steele pass exodus. I consider going with them, but after packing, realize that that would be stupid, wet and cold, possible chain action, so they go off up the hill, and I settle in with the gear all packed and ready to go tomorrow.
With the top still up, I’m mobile, free to roam, following in g mikes footsteps. Down to the lower and hang with skip, terry and the crowd there, then off to the sunrise pool for a soak, timbo holding forth and a great crowd of the leftovers, now the real usual suspects. Stories rebound and twist and turn, the banter is excruciatingly funny, and Kenny b gets the banter blue ribbon for outrage.
Head to the upper springs, and find Barbara and chris snuggled in bed in the tp, so I crawl into the sack in the camper and have a great snooze. They make getting up noises and fire up the stove, I bring out my terry wright perpetual beans, now with a big chunk of pork init. They break out leftover gumbo from the potluck and we chow down, watching the clouds and sunlight play on a fairytale scene… huge mountains, snowcapped peaks, vast valleys and always the springs with palms and inviting hot water.
Back to the lower for more soaking and visiting, Dotties birthday party is in full swing, with lenny and rodger singing, presents opened, possibilities for the evening emerge to settle on a potluck with music at ken and lindas camp down in the arroweed. I start out with a snooze parked next to their camp, ken comes out and rousts me, with promise of fun, food and great people. Rodger brings the bass, and lenny plays great old tunes, I gotta learn from him. Rodger has some really funny tunes and we all laugh along, while munching delicious chicken casserole, cheap box wine, and I get the seat of honor in the chaise lounge, with my feet to the fire.
I finally cash it in, retreat to the camp in checker gulch and find that the coyote has found the garbage sack and strewn bits of aluminum foil, cans and paper all over. Must have been delicious to him. Settle in for the evening, snoozing and listening as the breezes flutter the flag like soft waves on a forgotten beach.
Up with the dawning of another perfect saline day. Pick up the moop strewn by the coyote. Packed and ready to go by 8, after goodbyes to old and new friends bump up the road to steele pass following lenny, his first trip over, I catch up and tell him a bit about the route and we agree to keep tabs on each other. A dusting of frosting snow on the pass, but the road is clear, especially the side tilting switchback to the summit. The last chance range is shrouded in clouds, coming and going and I burn some megapixels, wishing I had a decent camera, an slr, lookin at a Nikon d90 for a grand.
We survive the rocky stair steps, with lenny being very careful. I blast right through and return to tell them to take the bikes off the back, they and the bike rack have been hitting bumps and would surely be badly damaged in the steps. On a roll now down to the dunes for lunch in the chair, waving at lenny as he and friend pass by. 3 figures silhuetted high on the dunes billowing like huge waves, etched against the sky with a singular splot of cloud. More mega pixels.
Cruise over the pass into big pine, find linda’s car but no Linda at aleshias, leave a note and head to bishop for buffulo berger and gas and la times then head for the barn. Sleep for 2 hours, then up to a dinner of b burger and an early crash. Im not skiing tomorrow, too wiped, so up early, talk to Christie, but win is sick, hes not skiing today, I kick back and putter, unload the truck, visit charlotte to hear bert is ok, and will be released form the prison-hospital in reno tmw.
The day passes swiftly, and I take a sunset cruise to adobe valley in the landcruiser, refeeling all the familiar quirks of driving this tank , low gear ratios, noise, but the radio works and im back in gear with my old truck, now 25 years and 180,000 miles down the road.
Back to talk to mark, busy as always, may come up Friday night. We talk of the solar developments in the desert, basically total loss of habitat over areas of 45 square miles and more for each project.
Watch constant gardner, not really the thriller the book was, but the projector and sound system work great, giving me a huge image on the ssu screen.
Another early rise, with stimulation and coffee also, Darlene calls and we make a movie date for Friday. Im planning on leaving sometime over the weekend, but no final date yet. Big bkfst and off early to mammoth to ski the perfect day on the mt. Great time with riders, skiers and a run from the summit down unbroken powder slopes. I fall and have a hard time getting up, feeling the elevation, and stick to the groomers.
Back to angels for a great lunch meatloaf sandwich and a beer, set up for the ride back to Benton. I’m tempted to hit the primo hot spring, no one would be there today, but pass on through.
Head across the barren moat of the caldera, and just getting steam up the grade to wildrose summit when the truck feels a bump and gets airborne for a minute, I white knuckle the wheel straight, wtf? Some thing happened, there were no bumps in the road. I get out and look at the front and realize the 60 lbs of steel framework that holds the 2nd spare on the front and the two hi lighter searchlights are not fastened to the carrier on the front any more. Shit, the pin must have vibrated out and the whole thing went under the car at 60 mph. I pick up the pieces, wondering how I could have prevented this destructive event. It looks like there is no damage done to the tires or under carriage, I hate to think what would have happened if the spare tire had been on there. I could have flipped at that speed. Oh well another painful expensive lesson learned, check the pin before you drive.
I see harry working on tarring the cracks in the road and tell him, he is impressed. Roll home, clocks are awry,the cell is 1 hour fast, maybe still on Tucson time, but I thot I had reset it. Out to snooze for 2 hours and on to finish this.
Mark calls and hes coming up tomorrow for potluck, ill just have to make some calls. Oh well.
Copyright 2009, terry wright
3530 words.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
benton-saline pres day 09
Saline pres day 2009
see picasaweb.google.com/terryw100 for pix
Benton days, cathy for 4, Jason inyo zorka johnnie and rodger for mon night, then ski tues blue skys deep pow, then only inyo, great help, now my second son.
Load up camper, bert in hospital w chf, flown to reno, charlotte taking it in stride. We toil at packing, prepping the camper, organizing shit. Long day. Second spare doesn’t fit, so I leave it, chains are perfect, 2 sets for snow on the n pass., or steel pass? We’ll know when we get there.
Kk arrives 730, good fast trip from sunnyale the landcruiser now in its new home. We party and chow down, and sleep. Frenzy of packing in the morning, but off at 830 to bishop and after a quick shop to big pine, Linda meets us and we head off up the hill.
N pass looks doable, I decide to try it without chains and forge ahead, 4-5 tracks beaten it down, no snow at marble cyn, but 2.5 feet at n pass, sledding down. Meet Kevin fixing cable chains trying to get out, no good, help him turn around, he came in leading johnnie and rodger. Sledding down whipporwill cyn, and out onto the dry fan, the valley spread out for 40 miles before us.
We take mellow breaks, on to willow creek, no dave, into the springs to great greetings from tom “hi there birthday boy” from the crystal pool. Check in with lee and off to find johnnie at checker gulch. Retrieve the bar from the upper springs. On loan from drummer dan. Great place set up barely then to upper in inyos truck for good soak, more people and great sunset. Dinner good, we party, I crash as others go to the lower for songfest.
Up early to yip of coyotes, now im 66, wow, this is gonna be fun. Early coffee (borrow inyos filter holder, forgot mine) and off to sunrise pool to jim Christie, Christine and turtle jim who seem to be a couple, ken and Linda, skip and terry, the usual suspects. I send invites for the potluck tonight, planning the attack. Back to camp to cook the d.o. a pineapple upside down cake, then to snooze, set up big tarp and poptop in raging wind, clouds come in, snooze and the storm blows through, a short storm, “gimme one of those any day” my comment. Set up for party, to upper for a quick soak, the usual suspects are all there, crowded into the wizard pool. Dave gives me bday present: the wizards hat, now I am the new wiz, a petroglyph rock he made, and an elkhorn pipe with mother of pearl plug.
We arrive to find the party started already, more usual suspects, Kenny b, timbo, silver bob and michelle, major tom, a great gang, oops theres garbage mike pulled in, he has his dick nose down in the crotch and we hug and laugh, thank god he’s over his snit. Fire up the barby but that’s gonna take a while, so I fire up the big stove and just lay the turkey and beef on there, smoked to perfection in harry’s coffin smoker in benton.
The banter begins and stories continue, all great storytellers, and strange tales of the valley, the guy with a 2wd d rental exploder who came in without chains, and couldn’t get out s pass, tried lippencott, put holes in the oil pan, blew the engine, and hiked 10 miles to the springs, guided by gps, knocked on lees door at 3 am and he set him up in the nps trailer for the rest of the night. Millers came in (hertz told him to get the vehicle to a paved road, not closed and they would take it from there.) $200/hour later they were towed out and on their way to lalaland. They read the nytimes article on saline and gave it a try, in bad conditions., oh well they learned the hard way, maybe word will get out that its not an easy place to get into.
Feed up, great smoked turkey and tritip, skips beans, other assorted dishes, great conversation, wine, more tequila than needed. Introduce kailen and inyo as my sons. My minions, mymadons or whatever. Inyo is pleased to be the chauffer. They go off into the night to shoot propane bombs, and dave and johnnie and I cruise to the lower, play guitar, sing, leave chair hidden and with a last chorus of pancho and lefty, with Barbara on dobro and chris on mandolin, we fade into the nighttime. Rodger and I put in some fire time and im out. Dog bark at 3 am, coyote bait, back to sleep with 2 bags over me, cold, dawn is clear, and another perfect saline day begins.
Wake slowly, no soak but great sunny morning, no w word, visitors come and go, ken retrieves his chairs, we talk of the desert and events to come. I write and draw a transect of the saline geology, following the pattern of the owens valley one, and put all the geology on one view. snooze and banter and wake again to the call of the golf game, time to head on up with inyo-choffeur, I bring chair, golf club, cooler of beer, and time to party. People have come outta the woodwork, we party on with the best of the best. Sign up, get card, get numbered ball, pencil and saddle up with a team: ken, party favor with a full bottle of Forestville merlot, taking straight shots outta the bottle. Wild man. We spot for the long 3rd hole, then kick off our round. I flub the first shot into the rocky desert pavement, pissed, dump my pack and sunglasses. And run into rough territory, finally get out into the fairway, a narrow gulch, festooned with low desert holly bushes. Another shot and im on the green, putting into the circle of rocks that is the hole. I yell at ken to pick up my pack, and he does, but neglects to note my sunglasses sitting on top and they are lost. I can’t find one lens after my first shot, so I look for a while to no avail, every rock and piece of sand a mosaic, hiding everything.
We play on, party favor is getting fucked up, but he has some good shots, we keep moving, and spotting, giving us a chance to savor the view, the picket fence, snowy heights of the inyos, scanning south to s pass, and hunter mt, and then around to the saddle of steel pass, the saline range and long low slope of the volcanic ridge of black mt. Groups of people scattered all over the fan, rocks and gullys hiding and revealing a sizable crowd of 50 or so golfers on the same course. Many with beers in hand and great costumes, ken has a huge bow tie and shorts and that’s it.
Finally finish up with a couple of good shots, and near miss putts. We crowd around the final hole for the shoot off, two guys at 15 for 5 holes. Pretty good for a bunch of non-golfers. Im a bit wiped, so inyo shuttles me down to camp into another session with garbage man, then incoming jeep with timbo, solvi, Kenny b and Lorenzo, again without pants. We party down and have a great time with some bloody marys, finishing the vodka and eyeing the tequila, saving it for later.
They leave in a flurry of insults and banter, we all take it in stride. I snooze until the return of the gang, kk has hiked peace mt solo, inyo is partying with the santa cruz gang, found his old friend tito from southlake tahoe and we go on and on telling stories and cruising. David comes by with the long white beard. He was at fish lake hot springs when I was giving tours of the sump to the locals in Benton.
Dimming of the day, sun down, rumors of storms coming but it all is clear here, the famous saline valley bubble. Shunting the fronts to the south and north. We revel in our special place, hanging around the fire looking at another evening of social music around the fire. The bluegrass band plays with rodger on bass, and we sing along, banter about, pass the tequila and jagermeister bottles and generally have a good time. I am still tickin after a double nap day, david sits next to me and I play along for a while, try knockin on heavens door, to no avail, and finally fade into the night. Stashing my chair behind the library for the game tmw. Sleep well, dreams of raging storms swirlinig in my head, but wtf? I have no schedule, I can stay a few more days if steele pass gets snowed in.
Up again and attem, laze around camp then head for the lower soaks a good shit in the shitter, festooned with drawings of burros and desert holly. People are going slowly, I soak in the sunrise pool, get good and warm, then head for the noise of timbos voice and camp. We sit around and banter, solvi is there, Lorenzo has finally put pants on, Kenny shows his balls, and terry goes into a long soliloquy about how mens dicks all look the same, and their balls are really different. Lorenzo recalls touch and go harry’s daughter dressed as a nurse and going up to johan at bat and wrapping his dick with elastic tape. To the great entertainment of all. Skip gives a call for omlettes and we troop over, elanor the wiener dog lying in the sun on the sisal rug, terrys mom hanging out sitting on a pillow, timbo, hairy beast that he is, presiding over the crowd. Skip appears in the door of the camper periodically with omlettes for all, with potatoes. He was cook on merchant marine ships and knows how to dish it out.
Over to pay respects to Christine and turtle jim at their camp, nestled in the trees by the burro spring. Nice conversation to catch up with Christine, still raging in pioneertown, and living the good life of a dual patent holder for amgen retired at 55. leave the calendar from hotel congress for jim macey, get a buzz,I take my leave and head back to camp, johnnie takes the d.o. to timbo, and kk and inyo are practicing throwing the softball, I duck as I pass under the line of fire. Fire up the generator and write this, now off to preside over announcements at the ball game in my elvis outfit with top hat.
The parade has started, flags waving, loud music, cheerleaders in skimpy outfits, uniforms of lower springs skins-in red, and upper springs misfits in black uniforms. We get in the mood with banter, greetings of old friends and new, inyo has backed his truck up to the spectator line and we mount chairs on the bed, looking out over the scene. Christine is in her black whip woman outfit, I have my red pimpdaddy coat on and elvis wig, and tyvek jumpsuit. I fire up the waist loudspeaker, and am ready for action.
I get the lists from each coach and with great fanfare take center stage and introduce the players. “And its darrel the gray at shortcock!” comes spilling out, each person with a different characteristic. All characters. The teams assembled, we sing the national anthem, the star strangled banana, with great gusto, I shout “Play ball” and we are off to another mayhem of long shots, short shots, cheers for both sides, the skimpy cheerleaders lurking in the background, no flashing the batters, the audience well-lubricated, great comardarie, like a big quagmire of whirling bodies, costumes, sizzleing balls and always cheering and shouting. Mike the garbage man is there in his dicknose outfit, picking up trash, with a safety vest on that says “business is picking up” on the back. The upper springs springs ahead 10-4, but the lower closes the gap. A ferocious double play happens right in front of us at 3rd base, with one runner caught off base, and forcing another out coming in. great arguments, kicking of dust at each other, all in good clean American fun. At the end the upper has it by 6 points but not after a big comeback from the lower, michelle parades the score in front of us, yelling “more steroids, more steroids”.
The sun is in and out, the air cold and freezing with a slight wind, but enough sun present to keep us from diving for cover. A big storm is coming in tonite, with 10 feet of snow predicted at mammoth, and snow levels to 3000 feet, and people are getting antsy about getting out. We all agree steele pass is the answer, the lowest at 5000 feet, and make plans for the next steps toward leaving. Already a caravan is headed to the south pass, the preferred route.
I snooze then get inyo to give me a ride to the upper for a raging potluck and bonfire and long soak with a crowd in the pool. The santa cruz ravers have found a nice hollow to party in, shielding us from incessant techno beat and their shouts and screams and piddly fireworks. I blow off a couple of mortars in retaliation.
Back to camp on garbage’s tailgate with tom and Carolyn, to find a party happening, newcomers also ariel and steve and her precious dog, guitars out, fire blazing, and good times. I play and sing and Barbara and chris come by and sit in, david brings his guitar and steve the ukelele man holds forth with his special brand of craziness. It is tiresome, tho and im ready for bed, the storm is coming in, we can smell it, wind picking up and I bed down in the disheveled interior of the camper and zone out with earplugs against the din.
Awakened by the pitter patter of raindrops on the roof, and emerge to find the place closed down, no mts visible, fog hanging in the valley and stuff to be organized. Kk and johnnie come out too and start packing for the steele pass exodus. I consider going with them, but after packing, realize that that would be stupid, wet and cold, possible chain action, so they go off up the hill, and I settle in with the gear all packed and ready to go tomorrow.
With the top still up, I’m mobile, free to roam, following in g mikes footsteps. Down to the lower and hang with skip, terry and the crowd there, then off to the sunrise pool for a soak, timbo holding forth and a great crowd of the leftovers, now the real usual suspects. Stories rebound and twist and turn, the banter is excruciatingly funny, and Kenny b gets the banter blue ribbon for outrage.
Head to the upper springs, and find Barbara and chris snuggled in bed in the tp, so I crawl into the sack in the camper and have a great snooze. They make getting up noises and fire up the stove, I bring out my terry wright perpetual beans, now with a big chunk of pork init. They break out leftover gumbo from the potluck and we chow down, watching the clouds and sunlight play on a fairytale scene… huge mountains, snowcapped peaks, vast valleys and always the springs with palms and inviting hot water.
Back to the lower for more soaking and visiting, Dotties birthday party is in full swing, with lenny and rodger singing, presents opened, possibilities for the evening emerge to settle on a potluck with music at ken and lindas camp down in the arroweed. I start out with a snooze parked next to their camp, ken comes out and rousts me, with promise of fun, food and great people. Rodger brings the bass, and lenny plays great old tunes, I gotta learn from him. Rodger has some really funny tunes and we all laugh along, while munching delicious chicken casserole, cheap box wine, and I get the seat of honor in the chaise lounge, with my feet to the fire.
I finally cash it in, retreat to the camp in checker gulch and find that the coyote has found the garbage sack and strewn bits of aluminum foil, cans and paper all over. Must have been delicious to him. Settle in for the evening, snoozing and listening as the breezes flutter the flag like soft waves on a forgotten beach.
Up with the dawning of another perfect saline day. Pick up the moop strewn by the coyote. Packed and ready to go by 8, after goodbyes to old and new friends bump up the road to steele pass following lenny, his first trip over, I catch up and tell him a bit about the route and we agree to keep tabs on each other. A dusting of frosting snow on the pass, but the road is clear, especially the side tilting switchback to the summit. The last chance range is shrouded in clouds, coming and going and I burn some megapixels, wishing I had a decent camera, an slr, lookin at a Nikon d90 for a grand.
We survive the rocky stair steps, with lenny being very careful. I blast right through and return to tell them to take the bikes off the back, they and the bike rack have been hitting bumps and would surely be badly damaged in the steps. On a roll now down to the dunes for lunch in the chair, waving at lenny as he and friend pass by. 3 figures silhuetted high on the dunes billowing like huge waves, etched against the sky with a singular splot of cloud. More mega pixels.
Cruise over the pass into big pine, find linda’s car but no Linda at aleshias, leave a note and head to bishop for buffulo berger and gas and la times then head for the barn. Sleep for 2 hours, then up to a dinner of b burger and an early crash. Im not skiing tomorrow, too wiped, so up early, talk to Christie, but win is sick, hes not skiing today, I kick back and putter, unload the truck, visit charlotte to hear bert is ok, and will be released form the prison-hospital in reno tmw.
The day passes swiftly, and I take a sunset cruise to adobe valley in the landcruiser, refeeling all the familiar quirks of driving this tank , low gear ratios, noise, but the radio works and im back in gear with my old truck, now 25 years and 180,000 miles down the road.
Back to talk to mark, busy as always, may come up Friday night. We talk of the solar developments in the desert, basically total loss of habitat over areas of 45 square miles and more for each project.
Watch constant gardner, not really the thriller the book was, but the projector and sound system work great, giving me a huge image on the ssu screen.
Another early rise, with stimulation and coffee also, Darlene calls and we make a movie date for Friday. Im planning on leaving sometime over the weekend, but no final date yet. Big bkfst and off early to mammoth to ski the perfect day on the mt. Great time with riders, skiers and a run from the summit down unbroken powder slopes. I fall and have a hard time getting up, feeling the elevation, and stick to the groomers.
Back to angels for a great lunch meatloaf sandwich and a beer, set up for the ride back to Benton. I’m tempted to hit the primo hot spring, no one would be there today, but pass on through.
Head across the barren moat of the caldera, and just getting steam up the grade to wildrose summit when the truck feels a bump and gets airborne for a minute, I white knuckle the wheel straight, wtf? Some thing happened, there were no bumps in the road. I get out and look at the front and realize the 60 lbs of steel framework that holds the 2nd spare on the front and the two hi lighter searchlights are not fastened to the carrier on the front any more. Shit, the pin must have vibrated out and the whole thing went under the car at 60 mph. I pick up the pieces, wondering how I could have prevented this destructive event. It looks like there is no damage done to the tires or under carriage, I hate to think what would have happened if the spare tire had been on there. I could have flipped at that speed. Oh well another painful expensive lesson learned, check the pin before you drive.
I see harry working on tarring the cracks in the road and tell him, he is impressed. Roll home, clocks are awry,the cell is 1 hour fast, maybe still on Tucson time, but I thot I had reset it. Out to snooze for 2 hours and on to finish this.
Mark calls and hes coming up tomorrow for potluck, ill just have to make some calls. Oh well.
Copyright 2009, terry wright
3530 words.
see picasaweb.google.com/terryw100 for pix
Benton days, cathy for 4, Jason inyo zorka johnnie and rodger for mon night, then ski tues blue skys deep pow, then only inyo, great help, now my second son.
Load up camper, bert in hospital w chf, flown to reno, charlotte taking it in stride. We toil at packing, prepping the camper, organizing shit. Long day. Second spare doesn’t fit, so I leave it, chains are perfect, 2 sets for snow on the n pass., or steel pass? We’ll know when we get there.
Kk arrives 730, good fast trip from sunnyale the landcruiser now in its new home. We party and chow down, and sleep. Frenzy of packing in the morning, but off at 830 to bishop and after a quick shop to big pine, Linda meets us and we head off up the hill.
N pass looks doable, I decide to try it without chains and forge ahead, 4-5 tracks beaten it down, no snow at marble cyn, but 2.5 feet at n pass, sledding down. Meet Kevin fixing cable chains trying to get out, no good, help him turn around, he came in leading johnnie and rodger. Sledding down whipporwill cyn, and out onto the dry fan, the valley spread out for 40 miles before us.
We take mellow breaks, on to willow creek, no dave, into the springs to great greetings from tom “hi there birthday boy” from the crystal pool. Check in with lee and off to find johnnie at checker gulch. Retrieve the bar from the upper springs. On loan from drummer dan. Great place set up barely then to upper in inyos truck for good soak, more people and great sunset. Dinner good, we party, I crash as others go to the lower for songfest.
Up early to yip of coyotes, now im 66, wow, this is gonna be fun. Early coffee (borrow inyos filter holder, forgot mine) and off to sunrise pool to jim Christie, Christine and turtle jim who seem to be a couple, ken and Linda, skip and terry, the usual suspects. I send invites for the potluck tonight, planning the attack. Back to camp to cook the d.o. a pineapple upside down cake, then to snooze, set up big tarp and poptop in raging wind, clouds come in, snooze and the storm blows through, a short storm, “gimme one of those any day” my comment. Set up for party, to upper for a quick soak, the usual suspects are all there, crowded into the wizard pool. Dave gives me bday present: the wizards hat, now I am the new wiz, a petroglyph rock he made, and an elkhorn pipe with mother of pearl plug.
We arrive to find the party started already, more usual suspects, Kenny b, timbo, silver bob and michelle, major tom, a great gang, oops theres garbage mike pulled in, he has his dick nose down in the crotch and we hug and laugh, thank god he’s over his snit. Fire up the barby but that’s gonna take a while, so I fire up the big stove and just lay the turkey and beef on there, smoked to perfection in harry’s coffin smoker in benton.
The banter begins and stories continue, all great storytellers, and strange tales of the valley, the guy with a 2wd d rental exploder who came in without chains, and couldn’t get out s pass, tried lippencott, put holes in the oil pan, blew the engine, and hiked 10 miles to the springs, guided by gps, knocked on lees door at 3 am and he set him up in the nps trailer for the rest of the night. Millers came in (hertz told him to get the vehicle to a paved road, not closed and they would take it from there.) $200/hour later they were towed out and on their way to lalaland. They read the nytimes article on saline and gave it a try, in bad conditions., oh well they learned the hard way, maybe word will get out that its not an easy place to get into.
Feed up, great smoked turkey and tritip, skips beans, other assorted dishes, great conversation, wine, more tequila than needed. Introduce kailen and inyo as my sons. My minions, mymadons or whatever. Inyo is pleased to be the chauffer. They go off into the night to shoot propane bombs, and dave and johnnie and I cruise to the lower, play guitar, sing, leave chair hidden and with a last chorus of pancho and lefty, with Barbara on dobro and chris on mandolin, we fade into the nighttime. Rodger and I put in some fire time and im out. Dog bark at 3 am, coyote bait, back to sleep with 2 bags over me, cold, dawn is clear, and another perfect saline day begins.
Wake slowly, no soak but great sunny morning, no w word, visitors come and go, ken retrieves his chairs, we talk of the desert and events to come. I write and draw a transect of the saline geology, following the pattern of the owens valley one, and put all the geology on one view. snooze and banter and wake again to the call of the golf game, time to head on up with inyo-choffeur, I bring chair, golf club, cooler of beer, and time to party. People have come outta the woodwork, we party on with the best of the best. Sign up, get card, get numbered ball, pencil and saddle up with a team: ken, party favor with a full bottle of Forestville merlot, taking straight shots outta the bottle. Wild man. We spot for the long 3rd hole, then kick off our round. I flub the first shot into the rocky desert pavement, pissed, dump my pack and sunglasses. And run into rough territory, finally get out into the fairway, a narrow gulch, festooned with low desert holly bushes. Another shot and im on the green, putting into the circle of rocks that is the hole. I yell at ken to pick up my pack, and he does, but neglects to note my sunglasses sitting on top and they are lost. I can’t find one lens after my first shot, so I look for a while to no avail, every rock and piece of sand a mosaic, hiding everything.
We play on, party favor is getting fucked up, but he has some good shots, we keep moving, and spotting, giving us a chance to savor the view, the picket fence, snowy heights of the inyos, scanning south to s pass, and hunter mt, and then around to the saddle of steel pass, the saline range and long low slope of the volcanic ridge of black mt. Groups of people scattered all over the fan, rocks and gullys hiding and revealing a sizable crowd of 50 or so golfers on the same course. Many with beers in hand and great costumes, ken has a huge bow tie and shorts and that’s it.
Finally finish up with a couple of good shots, and near miss putts. We crowd around the final hole for the shoot off, two guys at 15 for 5 holes. Pretty good for a bunch of non-golfers. Im a bit wiped, so inyo shuttles me down to camp into another session with garbage man, then incoming jeep with timbo, solvi, Kenny b and Lorenzo, again without pants. We party down and have a great time with some bloody marys, finishing the vodka and eyeing the tequila, saving it for later.
They leave in a flurry of insults and banter, we all take it in stride. I snooze until the return of the gang, kk has hiked peace mt solo, inyo is partying with the santa cruz gang, found his old friend tito from southlake tahoe and we go on and on telling stories and cruising. David comes by with the long white beard. He was at fish lake hot springs when I was giving tours of the sump to the locals in Benton.
Dimming of the day, sun down, rumors of storms coming but it all is clear here, the famous saline valley bubble. Shunting the fronts to the south and north. We revel in our special place, hanging around the fire looking at another evening of social music around the fire. The bluegrass band plays with rodger on bass, and we sing along, banter about, pass the tequila and jagermeister bottles and generally have a good time. I am still tickin after a double nap day, david sits next to me and I play along for a while, try knockin on heavens door, to no avail, and finally fade into the night. Stashing my chair behind the library for the game tmw. Sleep well, dreams of raging storms swirlinig in my head, but wtf? I have no schedule, I can stay a few more days if steele pass gets snowed in.
Up again and attem, laze around camp then head for the lower soaks a good shit in the shitter, festooned with drawings of burros and desert holly. People are going slowly, I soak in the sunrise pool, get good and warm, then head for the noise of timbos voice and camp. We sit around and banter, solvi is there, Lorenzo has finally put pants on, Kenny shows his balls, and terry goes into a long soliloquy about how mens dicks all look the same, and their balls are really different. Lorenzo recalls touch and go harry’s daughter dressed as a nurse and going up to johan at bat and wrapping his dick with elastic tape. To the great entertainment of all. Skip gives a call for omlettes and we troop over, elanor the wiener dog lying in the sun on the sisal rug, terrys mom hanging out sitting on a pillow, timbo, hairy beast that he is, presiding over the crowd. Skip appears in the door of the camper periodically with omlettes for all, with potatoes. He was cook on merchant marine ships and knows how to dish it out.
Over to pay respects to Christine and turtle jim at their camp, nestled in the trees by the burro spring. Nice conversation to catch up with Christine, still raging in pioneertown, and living the good life of a dual patent holder for amgen retired at 55. leave the calendar from hotel congress for jim macey, get a buzz,I take my leave and head back to camp, johnnie takes the d.o. to timbo, and kk and inyo are practicing throwing the softball, I duck as I pass under the line of fire. Fire up the generator and write this, now off to preside over announcements at the ball game in my elvis outfit with top hat.
The parade has started, flags waving, loud music, cheerleaders in skimpy outfits, uniforms of lower springs skins-in red, and upper springs misfits in black uniforms. We get in the mood with banter, greetings of old friends and new, inyo has backed his truck up to the spectator line and we mount chairs on the bed, looking out over the scene. Christine is in her black whip woman outfit, I have my red pimpdaddy coat on and elvis wig, and tyvek jumpsuit. I fire up the waist loudspeaker, and am ready for action.
I get the lists from each coach and with great fanfare take center stage and introduce the players. “And its darrel the gray at shortcock!” comes spilling out, each person with a different characteristic. All characters. The teams assembled, we sing the national anthem, the star strangled banana, with great gusto, I shout “Play ball” and we are off to another mayhem of long shots, short shots, cheers for both sides, the skimpy cheerleaders lurking in the background, no flashing the batters, the audience well-lubricated, great comardarie, like a big quagmire of whirling bodies, costumes, sizzleing balls and always cheering and shouting. Mike the garbage man is there in his dicknose outfit, picking up trash, with a safety vest on that says “business is picking up” on the back. The upper springs springs ahead 10-4, but the lower closes the gap. A ferocious double play happens right in front of us at 3rd base, with one runner caught off base, and forcing another out coming in. great arguments, kicking of dust at each other, all in good clean American fun. At the end the upper has it by 6 points but not after a big comeback from the lower, michelle parades the score in front of us, yelling “more steroids, more steroids”.
The sun is in and out, the air cold and freezing with a slight wind, but enough sun present to keep us from diving for cover. A big storm is coming in tonite, with 10 feet of snow predicted at mammoth, and snow levels to 3000 feet, and people are getting antsy about getting out. We all agree steele pass is the answer, the lowest at 5000 feet, and make plans for the next steps toward leaving. Already a caravan is headed to the south pass, the preferred route.
I snooze then get inyo to give me a ride to the upper for a raging potluck and bonfire and long soak with a crowd in the pool. The santa cruz ravers have found a nice hollow to party in, shielding us from incessant techno beat and their shouts and screams and piddly fireworks. I blow off a couple of mortars in retaliation.
Back to camp on garbage’s tailgate with tom and Carolyn, to find a party happening, newcomers also ariel and steve and her precious dog, guitars out, fire blazing, and good times. I play and sing and Barbara and chris come by and sit in, david brings his guitar and steve the ukelele man holds forth with his special brand of craziness. It is tiresome, tho and im ready for bed, the storm is coming in, we can smell it, wind picking up and I bed down in the disheveled interior of the camper and zone out with earplugs against the din.
Awakened by the pitter patter of raindrops on the roof, and emerge to find the place closed down, no mts visible, fog hanging in the valley and stuff to be organized. Kk and johnnie come out too and start packing for the steele pass exodus. I consider going with them, but after packing, realize that that would be stupid, wet and cold, possible chain action, so they go off up the hill, and I settle in with the gear all packed and ready to go tomorrow.
With the top still up, I’m mobile, free to roam, following in g mikes footsteps. Down to the lower and hang with skip, terry and the crowd there, then off to the sunrise pool for a soak, timbo holding forth and a great crowd of the leftovers, now the real usual suspects. Stories rebound and twist and turn, the banter is excruciatingly funny, and Kenny b gets the banter blue ribbon for outrage.
Head to the upper springs, and find Barbara and chris snuggled in bed in the tp, so I crawl into the sack in the camper and have a great snooze. They make getting up noises and fire up the stove, I bring out my terry wright perpetual beans, now with a big chunk of pork init. They break out leftover gumbo from the potluck and we chow down, watching the clouds and sunlight play on a fairytale scene… huge mountains, snowcapped peaks, vast valleys and always the springs with palms and inviting hot water.
Back to the lower for more soaking and visiting, Dotties birthday party is in full swing, with lenny and rodger singing, presents opened, possibilities for the evening emerge to settle on a potluck with music at ken and lindas camp down in the arroweed. I start out with a snooze parked next to their camp, ken comes out and rousts me, with promise of fun, food and great people. Rodger brings the bass, and lenny plays great old tunes, I gotta learn from him. Rodger has some really funny tunes and we all laugh along, while munching delicious chicken casserole, cheap box wine, and I get the seat of honor in the chaise lounge, with my feet to the fire.
I finally cash it in, retreat to the camp in checker gulch and find that the coyote has found the garbage sack and strewn bits of aluminum foil, cans and paper all over. Must have been delicious to him. Settle in for the evening, snoozing and listening as the breezes flutter the flag like soft waves on a forgotten beach.
Up with the dawning of another perfect saline day. Pick up the moop strewn by the coyote. Packed and ready to go by 8, after goodbyes to old and new friends bump up the road to steele pass following lenny, his first trip over, I catch up and tell him a bit about the route and we agree to keep tabs on each other. A dusting of frosting snow on the pass, but the road is clear, especially the side tilting switchback to the summit. The last chance range is shrouded in clouds, coming and going and I burn some megapixels, wishing I had a decent camera, an slr, lookin at a Nikon d90 for a grand.
We survive the rocky stair steps, with lenny being very careful. I blast right through and return to tell them to take the bikes off the back, they and the bike rack have been hitting bumps and would surely be badly damaged in the steps. On a roll now down to the dunes for lunch in the chair, waving at lenny as he and friend pass by. 3 figures silhuetted high on the dunes billowing like huge waves, etched against the sky with a singular splot of cloud. More mega pixels.
Cruise over the pass into big pine, find linda’s car but no Linda at aleshias, leave a note and head to bishop for buffulo berger and gas and la times then head for the barn. Sleep for 2 hours, then up to a dinner of b burger and an early crash. Im not skiing tomorrow, too wiped, so up early, talk to Christie, but win is sick, hes not skiing today, I kick back and putter, unload the truck, visit charlotte to hear bert is ok, and will be released form the prison-hospital in reno tmw.
The day passes swiftly, and I take a sunset cruise to adobe valley in the landcruiser, refeeling all the familiar quirks of driving this tank , low gear ratios, noise, but the radio works and im back in gear with my old truck, now 25 years and 180,000 miles down the road.
Back to talk to mark, busy as always, may come up Friday night. We talk of the solar developments in the desert, basically total loss of habitat over areas of 45 square miles and more for each project.
Watch constant gardner, not really the thriller the book was, but the projector and sound system work great, giving me a huge image on the ssu screen.
Another early rise, with stimulation and coffee also, Darlene calls and we make a movie date for Friday. Im planning on leaving sometime over the weekend, but no final date yet. Big bkfst and off early to mammoth to ski the perfect day on the mt. Great time with riders, skiers and a run from the summit down unbroken powder slopes. I fall and have a hard time getting up, feeling the elevation, and stick to the groomers.
Back to angels for a great lunch meatloaf sandwich and a beer, set up for the ride back to Benton. I’m tempted to hit the primo hot spring, no one would be there today, but pass on through.
Head across the barren moat of the caldera, and just getting steam up the grade to wildrose summit when the truck feels a bump and gets airborne for a minute, I white knuckle the wheel straight, wtf? Some thing happened, there were no bumps in the road. I get out and look at the front and realize the 60 lbs of steel framework that holds the 2nd spare on the front and the two hi lighter searchlights are not fastened to the carrier on the front any more. Shit, the pin must have vibrated out and the whole thing went under the car at 60 mph. I pick up the pieces, wondering how I could have prevented this destructive event. It looks like there is no damage done to the tires or under carriage, I hate to think what would have happened if the spare tire had been on there. I could have flipped at that speed. Oh well another painful expensive lesson learned, check the pin before you drive.
I see harry working on tarring the cracks in the road and tell him, he is impressed. Roll home, clocks are awry,the cell is 1 hour fast, maybe still on Tucson time, but I thot I had reset it. Out to snooze for 2 hours and on to finish this.
Mark calls and hes coming up tomorrow for potluck, ill just have to make some calls. Oh well.
Copyright 2009, terry wright
3530 words.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Tucson mineral show
Benton-tucson and a triumphant return to 3 feet of pow.
Pix on picasaweb site
Time flys when yer havin fun, the daze before leaving for Tucson were action packed: ski deep pow with win (see da guida blog), presentation at the local school to katys class, 14 raging testosterone 12 year olds constantly shifting, talking, asking questions, Darcy trying to keep order, one kid gets sent out of the room for saying “crap”, 2 strikes, wonder if they have a 3 strike rule here? Then a return trip to the sump with Darlene, a perfect day, dip in the hot spring, meet an old friend from saline with long white beard, hell be there for pres day.
Now time to shift gears and head to Tucson. Hit the road early, breeze thru bishop on my way to big pine for bkfst at lindas dog/house sitting job site, then down 395 stopping at daves in indepence to an empty house, lotsa work going on, new siding, man they never stop. I am so relieved that I could buy a modular house, plop it down in the center of my 10 acres and not worry too much about it.
Break at Macys to snooze on the bed on the front poarch, hes in Nevada at a cowboy poetry festival in elko. Now up to the Darwin plateau, breaking clouds, warm sun, twisted geology, the Joshua tree that was on the cover of the album U2 made, now with so many people walking around it in time, it is suffering, death by adoration.
Down the winding canyon to Darwin wash and into PSR (Panamint springs resort) for chili lunch and a tour of their photo gallery. Now thru the Heart of Death Valley, great vistas, 70 degrees, several breaks to mellow out and then through the Pahrump sprawl, in 20 years grown without plan into a major population center, mainly retirees, ron leu our old technician lives here, but im on my way to anns and scheduled to arrive at 6 on time.
I do, to great hugs and a fun evening with my old student and her boyfriend, also a geologist, rambling house open suburbs of Las Vegas, far from the crush of the city of lights. She even drives me to the airport in the morning and I slide into the jet, and theres dave storck my friend from the pf (petrified forest) and his cohorts paula and steve, ready to rock and mineral roll. Less than an hour to Tucson, jump in the rental car, a shiny new red mustang, and we are off to Electric park. Dave is after wood to sell in the shop and has some contacts, I am dazzeled by the usual display of 30 or so polished petrified logs, along with dyed geodes, amythist vugs and trilobites. It is a crazy assortment, all out in the open, then into the morocco tents, more old friends of daves, checking and cross checking prices, availability, and making deals worth thousands. Their budget for the trip is 30 grand, that could go along way. We hoof it around acres of tents, knowing this is just the tip of the iceberg of shows. We will do the strip this afternoon, but first lunch at café minuto, great mex joining paula and steve, comparing notes, lists with stuff crossed off, nonstop conversation battle going on about what to by, where to go next and who to see. We have a load of boxes picked up at epark, so we get a pass to the riverfront (aka pueblo) show and drive around back to find steve a paula already hard at it, wheeling and dealing with two work-hippies that smell bad, natty dreads, beads, pierces lips, who expertly unload the stuff onto a pallet, wrap it up ready to ship to the pf. A great system after years of driving a uhaul rental up to soco loaded with 2 tons of product. I tour the morocco collection here, major trilobite display one with fuzzy spikes on top about 2 feet long catches my eye, $5grand, oh well. We tour the amethyst vugs, some 6 feet tall, some citrine, all in the hundreds of dollars, inspect the calcite and quartz secondary minerals poking out of the depths adding stars of white to the background purple. The older guy from the st george utah co. is proud of a slab of amethyst with quartz crystals with drusy quartz covering. He allows as how those were calcite crystals, I whip out the acid and wave it in his face “you mind?” he nods assent and sure enuf, it doesn’t fizz, now he has a new story to tell. Now to tour the big stuff, single quartz crystals 4 feet high, and milled quartz spheres 3 feet in diameter. The prices are staggering and the talk is about how the show will go with the economy in the dumps, there are lots of collectors, but not as many buyers according to one dude, but we are doing our part, piling up the boxes and securing orders to be paid by check. The big boss gets a fax Monday for the checks needed and runs them off and signs them and then fedex overnight to Tucson from soco on tues morning which then a mad dash around the shows to collect the rest of the stuff reserved.
We end up for the superbowl on Sunday at the executive inn suites, every room filled with displays, some junky, some artistically arranged, music. Chris from Benton has just pulled in and is setting up his room, jack a wood friend of daves is down the hall, and we tour a bit. I head across to natures own and find roy packing up a big order for some buyers, “I recognize that vest” he says and we catch up old grand canyon friends and agree to meet at the bar for the super bowl. My heel is really hurting now, a return bout of plantar fasciitis, and I have to walk, in pain. We settle in front of a huge projection tv and the game is on already. I call brian, and he is in town, I give him my 40 and hell be over later. People come by and party, watch the ads in 3d and cheer on the az cards. Steelers first blood looking strong and intercepting on the 1 just before the half. Shit, doesn’t look good for the home team. I introduce roy to dave and they talk, I call b coole on the cell and banter with her for a while totally pissing roy off cause I am loud and should be outside to talk on the phone.
We quaff some ales, I streatch my foot out, hoping the pain will go away, I am intent on the game when I am suddenly grabbed from behind in a big hug, its brian cook, my old friend and student here for another show. He is just in town and stoked for the action, we talk and catch up, he has a booth a t jgx, the top mineral show for his company Natures geometry. We go way back and review lives and watch the deteriorating game. I introduce roy to brian, they hit it off, but roy is disgusted with the game, so we repair to jacks tv, me lighting very smelly farts, drinking beers, eating beans. The game reaches an intense seesaw peak at the end with the steelers winning on lucky catch. Whew, that’s over, we talk more about rocks and life and gather a gang together for a foray to hotel congress for dinner. I am wiped, no nap, at it all day, walking on a painful foot, but we troop to the hotel and have a great meal, great conversations, jack did the tat several years ago and we swap yarns, but he is in high gear, dominating the conversation, motormouthing, and dave is getting pissed. Finally we repair to the motel and I am flopped out immediately. Sleeping the sleep of the dead.
UP early for Sabino canyon trek, Dave raves about this place, so we work our way thru the burbs, mansions on hilltops, sprawl everywhere, down oracle one big strip mall for miles, a few cute old Tucson neighborhoods, but mostly southwest modern. I find a walgreens and get a heel pad for my painful foot, now at every step driving a nail in to my foot. And we have to do some hiking, but on a road after a tram ride to the top of the canyon. We pay at the gate, having forgotten my geezer park pass again, and ride the tram up a narrowing canyon, horizontal stripes of gneiss exposed and tall saguaros towering below high ragged ridges of rock from the base of a core complex formed deep in the earth and then pushed up, ravaged by weathering and erosion in the desert. A great tour guide tells us stories as we climb high into the foothills of mt lemmon. We debark at the top and I limp down the road, taking pictures, nonstop dave talking, all cool stuff. Finally we hop on the tram and are in the red rocket headed to downtown Tucson. Stop at electric park to peruse some more goodies, getting crowded now, 3rd day of the show, hopefully portending of good fortunes all over. Lunch at el minito again, same salad. Great mex. Now out on the strip again, to quartz city, a football field of tables covered with smoky and clear clusters, big little , in flats, 15$ a pound for really beautiful stuff. Dave racks up another pile of boxes, arranges to pick up tmw when the checks arrive. I vow to come back. Wandering off I find a great varietiy of labradorite xtals, I want one, but the right one doesn’t come up. I buy a slice of geode with clear quartz in the middle, with a crystal tree pattern and have a great conversation with a vendor geezer dude, way in to rocks and fossils. I am overwhealmed by now and the afternoon is only half over. I get the call from b coole and she is just arriving from yuma in her van stuffed with textiles and costumes for a SCA gathering next weekend. We find each other by cellphone at the Ramada show and tour that for a while. Im wiped, so we repair to the executive suites and visit jack some more, chris is set up so I check his wares, nice garnets from bishop, great stuff. We trundle north on oracle and find bjs pub, a big place humming with activity and decorated with great paintings and flags. Chow down and then to moteland, Barbara pulls in back and sets up camp, crashing in her van. We listen to the beatles love album for a while and then drift off.
Barbara wants to go to the bead shows, so we are off early, get registered with resale permits and get badged and off we go into the deep bead scene. She reads to me from book Ireland, a great storytelling novel, with a wonderfully flowery prose rendition of the geologic history of Ireland. Great stuff. The dog, lucy (short for Lucifer) is cool, but keeps stretching out the extenda leash around my chair. Now time for the great entrance , Ive seen beads at shows, but never a whole show, and it is truly overwhelming. Barbra says “im goin into work mode, see you in an hour” and shes off wheeling and dealing, and I wander 2 huge tents and get bored fast, everything is the same and is huge, yards of piles of turquoise necklaces, bins of beads, glass everywhere, one table is red with rhodo necklaces piled high with very worried looking people smiling and trying to believe it ok the world economy is going down in flames.
I get tired fast, and the foot is hurting, take a vicodan for relief of the nail in my heel, and head out to the street, finding another stand with the same old shit (sos) as in the strip, but only a couple people around, all vendors. I get into a conversation with a guy who is vending for some aussies, and he has glossopertis, very nice fossils, and I pick one up. “Don’t worry about the marked price, those are 5$ apiece.” I check out the price marked, $20 , ive seen pieces like this at the strip for over 30, so I pull out a 5 and am off to new glory. The temp is up, hot in the February sun, I pay 1.75 for a banana and sit in the shade, cowering in the wind. Call Barbara, and shes almost done, we head for the strip, but Dave calls and wants to meet at Poca Cosa for lunch, hes been raving about this feed for days, so we slide up town, finding a parking space with Barbaras crip sticker. Dave pulls up in the red rocket, loaded down with booty from Electric park. We enter very posh stainless, curved surrounding, lith ballerina waitress seats us, the owner comes by to say hi, we chat about the menu, chalked on a board as the ballerina turns into an actress doing performance art with gustatory delights. I get a cod stew and salad and we dig in, great gomps, Barbara talking non stop about the siege of Leningrad, and how the germans worked to destroy all Russian historical sense, by burning palaces, steal ing art, burning and hacking to death anything they couldn’t carry off. The musem staff saw them coming and put all the precious art they could fit on a big passenger train and filled it with as much fuel as possible and drove east until they ran out of gas, and stayed there through the war out in the steppes. More great stories,, she has been a tour guide in Russia, and looks like a Russian mama, but great storyteller. We wipe out lunch and are off to the strip for one last shot.. I get some quartz clusters, she gets some coprolites (fossil shit), and we tour around finding a great booth with fluorescent minerals display. I note these for canyon, and then limp up the river front, meeting dave, paula, steve and their contact, Sam, who is shipping their stuff to the pf for them.
I ogle the huge trilobites and amethyst vugs for a bit, then purchase a led flashing mineral stand for me and win, and some necklaces for the kids, then off to executive suites for another dose of jack, chris and the shop of brains friend crystal images, huge crystals set in steel and bronze sculptures, buy a garnet from chris, then we order up a pile of margaritas anjeo tequila and get hammered. Its late I’m tired, and craig calls, in Mojave, headed down, ill miss him, but Barbara will be there to show him around. We cruse back to the hotel, im totaled out, but we remember the free barbeque that evening and have a over cooked burger and some juice. Back in the room Barbara has showered, is pissed we didn’t tell her about the bbq, but she isn’t paying anything, well, shes used to living like that, it’s a game and a way of life, so I let it slide. I repack my booty into a box for barabara to take to soco for me and my carryon for thte plane ride, and am off to z land.
Seamless trip to Benton via vegas, ann give me a ride to her place from the airport, and I snooze, eat leftover salmon and hit the road, clear sailing to Benton, 5 hours. Cathy is in bishop and we plot an attack on mammoth tmw with snow swirling in the forecast.
Copyright 2009, terry wright
Pix on picasaweb site
Time flys when yer havin fun, the daze before leaving for Tucson were action packed: ski deep pow with win (see da guida blog), presentation at the local school to katys class, 14 raging testosterone 12 year olds constantly shifting, talking, asking questions, Darcy trying to keep order, one kid gets sent out of the room for saying “crap”, 2 strikes, wonder if they have a 3 strike rule here? Then a return trip to the sump with Darlene, a perfect day, dip in the hot spring, meet an old friend from saline with long white beard, hell be there for pres day.
Now time to shift gears and head to Tucson. Hit the road early, breeze thru bishop on my way to big pine for bkfst at lindas dog/house sitting job site, then down 395 stopping at daves in indepence to an empty house, lotsa work going on, new siding, man they never stop. I am so relieved that I could buy a modular house, plop it down in the center of my 10 acres and not worry too much about it.
Break at Macys to snooze on the bed on the front poarch, hes in Nevada at a cowboy poetry festival in elko. Now up to the Darwin plateau, breaking clouds, warm sun, twisted geology, the Joshua tree that was on the cover of the album U2 made, now with so many people walking around it in time, it is suffering, death by adoration.
Down the winding canyon to Darwin wash and into PSR (Panamint springs resort) for chili lunch and a tour of their photo gallery. Now thru the Heart of Death Valley, great vistas, 70 degrees, several breaks to mellow out and then through the Pahrump sprawl, in 20 years grown without plan into a major population center, mainly retirees, ron leu our old technician lives here, but im on my way to anns and scheduled to arrive at 6 on time.
I do, to great hugs and a fun evening with my old student and her boyfriend, also a geologist, rambling house open suburbs of Las Vegas, far from the crush of the city of lights. She even drives me to the airport in the morning and I slide into the jet, and theres dave storck my friend from the pf (petrified forest) and his cohorts paula and steve, ready to rock and mineral roll. Less than an hour to Tucson, jump in the rental car, a shiny new red mustang, and we are off to Electric park. Dave is after wood to sell in the shop and has some contacts, I am dazzeled by the usual display of 30 or so polished petrified logs, along with dyed geodes, amythist vugs and trilobites. It is a crazy assortment, all out in the open, then into the morocco tents, more old friends of daves, checking and cross checking prices, availability, and making deals worth thousands. Their budget for the trip is 30 grand, that could go along way. We hoof it around acres of tents, knowing this is just the tip of the iceberg of shows. We will do the strip this afternoon, but first lunch at café minuto, great mex joining paula and steve, comparing notes, lists with stuff crossed off, nonstop conversation battle going on about what to by, where to go next and who to see. We have a load of boxes picked up at epark, so we get a pass to the riverfront (aka pueblo) show and drive around back to find steve a paula already hard at it, wheeling and dealing with two work-hippies that smell bad, natty dreads, beads, pierces lips, who expertly unload the stuff onto a pallet, wrap it up ready to ship to the pf. A great system after years of driving a uhaul rental up to soco loaded with 2 tons of product. I tour the morocco collection here, major trilobite display one with fuzzy spikes on top about 2 feet long catches my eye, $5grand, oh well. We tour the amethyst vugs, some 6 feet tall, some citrine, all in the hundreds of dollars, inspect the calcite and quartz secondary minerals poking out of the depths adding stars of white to the background purple. The older guy from the st george utah co. is proud of a slab of amethyst with quartz crystals with drusy quartz covering. He allows as how those were calcite crystals, I whip out the acid and wave it in his face “you mind?” he nods assent and sure enuf, it doesn’t fizz, now he has a new story to tell. Now to tour the big stuff, single quartz crystals 4 feet high, and milled quartz spheres 3 feet in diameter. The prices are staggering and the talk is about how the show will go with the economy in the dumps, there are lots of collectors, but not as many buyers according to one dude, but we are doing our part, piling up the boxes and securing orders to be paid by check. The big boss gets a fax Monday for the checks needed and runs them off and signs them and then fedex overnight to Tucson from soco on tues morning which then a mad dash around the shows to collect the rest of the stuff reserved.
We end up for the superbowl on Sunday at the executive inn suites, every room filled with displays, some junky, some artistically arranged, music. Chris from Benton has just pulled in and is setting up his room, jack a wood friend of daves is down the hall, and we tour a bit. I head across to natures own and find roy packing up a big order for some buyers, “I recognize that vest” he says and we catch up old grand canyon friends and agree to meet at the bar for the super bowl. My heel is really hurting now, a return bout of plantar fasciitis, and I have to walk, in pain. We settle in front of a huge projection tv and the game is on already. I call brian, and he is in town, I give him my 40 and hell be over later. People come by and party, watch the ads in 3d and cheer on the az cards. Steelers first blood looking strong and intercepting on the 1 just before the half. Shit, doesn’t look good for the home team. I introduce roy to dave and they talk, I call b coole on the cell and banter with her for a while totally pissing roy off cause I am loud and should be outside to talk on the phone.
We quaff some ales, I streatch my foot out, hoping the pain will go away, I am intent on the game when I am suddenly grabbed from behind in a big hug, its brian cook, my old friend and student here for another show. He is just in town and stoked for the action, we talk and catch up, he has a booth a t jgx, the top mineral show for his company Natures geometry. We go way back and review lives and watch the deteriorating game. I introduce roy to brian, they hit it off, but roy is disgusted with the game, so we repair to jacks tv, me lighting very smelly farts, drinking beers, eating beans. The game reaches an intense seesaw peak at the end with the steelers winning on lucky catch. Whew, that’s over, we talk more about rocks and life and gather a gang together for a foray to hotel congress for dinner. I am wiped, no nap, at it all day, walking on a painful foot, but we troop to the hotel and have a great meal, great conversations, jack did the tat several years ago and we swap yarns, but he is in high gear, dominating the conversation, motormouthing, and dave is getting pissed. Finally we repair to the motel and I am flopped out immediately. Sleeping the sleep of the dead.
UP early for Sabino canyon trek, Dave raves about this place, so we work our way thru the burbs, mansions on hilltops, sprawl everywhere, down oracle one big strip mall for miles, a few cute old Tucson neighborhoods, but mostly southwest modern. I find a walgreens and get a heel pad for my painful foot, now at every step driving a nail in to my foot. And we have to do some hiking, but on a road after a tram ride to the top of the canyon. We pay at the gate, having forgotten my geezer park pass again, and ride the tram up a narrowing canyon, horizontal stripes of gneiss exposed and tall saguaros towering below high ragged ridges of rock from the base of a core complex formed deep in the earth and then pushed up, ravaged by weathering and erosion in the desert. A great tour guide tells us stories as we climb high into the foothills of mt lemmon. We debark at the top and I limp down the road, taking pictures, nonstop dave talking, all cool stuff. Finally we hop on the tram and are in the red rocket headed to downtown Tucson. Stop at electric park to peruse some more goodies, getting crowded now, 3rd day of the show, hopefully portending of good fortunes all over. Lunch at el minito again, same salad. Great mex. Now out on the strip again, to quartz city, a football field of tables covered with smoky and clear clusters, big little , in flats, 15$ a pound for really beautiful stuff. Dave racks up another pile of boxes, arranges to pick up tmw when the checks arrive. I vow to come back. Wandering off I find a great varietiy of labradorite xtals, I want one, but the right one doesn’t come up. I buy a slice of geode with clear quartz in the middle, with a crystal tree pattern and have a great conversation with a vendor geezer dude, way in to rocks and fossils. I am overwhealmed by now and the afternoon is only half over. I get the call from b coole and she is just arriving from yuma in her van stuffed with textiles and costumes for a SCA gathering next weekend. We find each other by cellphone at the Ramada show and tour that for a while. Im wiped, so we repair to the executive suites and visit jack some more, chris is set up so I check his wares, nice garnets from bishop, great stuff. We trundle north on oracle and find bjs pub, a big place humming with activity and decorated with great paintings and flags. Chow down and then to moteland, Barbara pulls in back and sets up camp, crashing in her van. We listen to the beatles love album for a while and then drift off.
Barbara wants to go to the bead shows, so we are off early, get registered with resale permits and get badged and off we go into the deep bead scene. She reads to me from book Ireland, a great storytelling novel, with a wonderfully flowery prose rendition of the geologic history of Ireland. Great stuff. The dog, lucy (short for Lucifer) is cool, but keeps stretching out the extenda leash around my chair. Now time for the great entrance , Ive seen beads at shows, but never a whole show, and it is truly overwhelming. Barbra says “im goin into work mode, see you in an hour” and shes off wheeling and dealing, and I wander 2 huge tents and get bored fast, everything is the same and is huge, yards of piles of turquoise necklaces, bins of beads, glass everywhere, one table is red with rhodo necklaces piled high with very worried looking people smiling and trying to believe it ok the world economy is going down in flames.
I get tired fast, and the foot is hurting, take a vicodan for relief of the nail in my heel, and head out to the street, finding another stand with the same old shit (sos) as in the strip, but only a couple people around, all vendors. I get into a conversation with a guy who is vending for some aussies, and he has glossopertis, very nice fossils, and I pick one up. “Don’t worry about the marked price, those are 5$ apiece.” I check out the price marked, $20 , ive seen pieces like this at the strip for over 30, so I pull out a 5 and am off to new glory. The temp is up, hot in the February sun, I pay 1.75 for a banana and sit in the shade, cowering in the wind. Call Barbara, and shes almost done, we head for the strip, but Dave calls and wants to meet at Poca Cosa for lunch, hes been raving about this feed for days, so we slide up town, finding a parking space with Barbaras crip sticker. Dave pulls up in the red rocket, loaded down with booty from Electric park. We enter very posh stainless, curved surrounding, lith ballerina waitress seats us, the owner comes by to say hi, we chat about the menu, chalked on a board as the ballerina turns into an actress doing performance art with gustatory delights. I get a cod stew and salad and we dig in, great gomps, Barbara talking non stop about the siege of Leningrad, and how the germans worked to destroy all Russian historical sense, by burning palaces, steal ing art, burning and hacking to death anything they couldn’t carry off. The musem staff saw them coming and put all the precious art they could fit on a big passenger train and filled it with as much fuel as possible and drove east until they ran out of gas, and stayed there through the war out in the steppes. More great stories,, she has been a tour guide in Russia, and looks like a Russian mama, but great storyteller. We wipe out lunch and are off to the strip for one last shot.. I get some quartz clusters, she gets some coprolites (fossil shit), and we tour around finding a great booth with fluorescent minerals display. I note these for canyon, and then limp up the river front, meeting dave, paula, steve and their contact, Sam, who is shipping their stuff to the pf for them.
I ogle the huge trilobites and amethyst vugs for a bit, then purchase a led flashing mineral stand for me and win, and some necklaces for the kids, then off to executive suites for another dose of jack, chris and the shop of brains friend crystal images, huge crystals set in steel and bronze sculptures, buy a garnet from chris, then we order up a pile of margaritas anjeo tequila and get hammered. Its late I’m tired, and craig calls, in Mojave, headed down, ill miss him, but Barbara will be there to show him around. We cruse back to the hotel, im totaled out, but we remember the free barbeque that evening and have a over cooked burger and some juice. Back in the room Barbara has showered, is pissed we didn’t tell her about the bbq, but she isn’t paying anything, well, shes used to living like that, it’s a game and a way of life, so I let it slide. I repack my booty into a box for barabara to take to soco for me and my carryon for thte plane ride, and am off to z land.
Seamless trip to Benton via vegas, ann give me a ride to her place from the airport, and I snooze, eat leftover salmon and hit the road, clear sailing to Benton, 5 hours. Cathy is in bishop and we plot an attack on mammoth tmw with snow swirling in the forecast.
Copyright 2009, terry wright
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