RAINY DAY AT FORT WORDEN.

Fort Worden has two campgrounds and we chose the beach area. These trees were silhouetted against a cloudy sky.
It is easy to see which way the wind blows. Rain was in the forecast. We set up camp and decided to walk to the two science museums on the grounds.

On the way, we stopped at this little free library.  We just turned in bags of books at our last campground, so I had none to trade. We continued to the science museums and both were closed. They begin their winter hours after Labor Day. We got caught in the rain and had to run for the motorhome. Our wet clothes were set to dry while we had dinner.

The storm lasted about an hour and we took the opportunity to walk the beach. A distant light house beckoned. In places we had to climb over rocks to escape the incoming tide.

We talked to two women from Pullman,WA who were gathering beach shells and glass in the surf. We peeked into their buckets and admired their pretties.  They wore simple sweatshirts during weather I found brutally cold with wind enough to knock you over.  I met a fellow from my part of Michigan who wore a simple long-sleeved shirt and remarked at how nice the weather is here. I told him I'd never leave California for Michigan despite my roots.

After we'd passed them, one woman came back and offered to share some of her beach glass with me. Wasn't that sweet? I declined since we have jars of beach stones and glass from other beaches we've visited, particularly the Glass Beach in California that was once a dump.

Besides, the beach was strewn with rocks and and shells at the tide line.

Close to the lighthouse, someone spent time balancing rocks called cairns. Most make it five stones high. Some go six and seven.

I put together a seven, then the rock toppled and I couldn't retrieve it, so I settled for a six.

The lighthouse was built in 1913, one hundred one years old. So important in their time. No visitors.

Past the lighthouse, we got up on the breakwater and walked.

Driftwood, sometimes whole trees, enough to build a house

It ages so beautifully.

We watched six fishermen with fly rods where the breakwater began to peter out.

We met an honest fisherman. He said he is going for fish and chips at a local restaurant.

Wives waiting on the beach with their blue-eyed Australian Shepherd. They said the salmon season is just starting and only a certain kind of salmon can be taken. They were unsure, but think that if it is a king salmon, they have to throw it back. They can take silvers.

We returned to the motor home just before the second storm hit. It rocked the motorhome, threatened to tear off the vents and our closed awning, and blew and rattled everything that moved along with heavy rains. I stowed our ground rug under the motorhome because the wind was folding it and moving it from its appointed spot. We have yet to check and see if we still have a rug.

OAKLAND,NEW JERSEY, ELKS CLUB

Oakland, New Jersey Elks Club is located just a mile from our good friends, Jim and Ginnie Palumbo. The grounds at the club are elegant, with a gazebo, tennis and basketball areas, a huge barbeque and picnic area and then...the Ramapo river flows at its feet.

Among the landscaping plants was the biggest hosta I've ever seen in North America, about four feet across. Beautiful.

I spent the afternoon reading at the riverside and watching the geese swim back and forth under a nearby walking bridge.

The bridge may have been meant for people, but this deer took advantage of it as well.

When Jimmie got off work, they came and got us, and the four of us went for dinner at one of their favorite Italian restaurants.

The zuppza de peche loaded with calamari, scallops, huge delicious mussels, and shrimp with angel hair pasta, excellent.  It came with soup or salad, and wonderful french bread and extra sauce. The guys had meatballs with their pasta. It doesn't get much better than that.

We sat by the river and visited with Ginnie and Jim until it got dark.  Beautiful  swans swam by, gobbling something they liked.

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A couple of fishermen took advantage of the dusk and put their poles in  from a small boat. Earlier in the day, a kayak went by and a heron landed on the bank, but I didn't have my camera ready at that moment. Next time.

STRIVING FOR BIOLOGICAL DIVERSITY

Having spent 7 months crossing the United States, enjoying its parks, its beauty, great stretches of  barely inhabited land, fields full of grain, tree fruits, nuts, berries, beautiful lakes, bridges... what a great country this is. Puzzling, though, we sometimes  parked  near a pond or woods and did not see or hear a bird or an insect. Strange. Not even a mosquito.

 Sightings of wild animals in the South and West were better, but even then, mostly in protected parks. In the East where population is denser, we saw squirrels, chipmunks, foxes, and deer. Frogs only in protected gardens.

 
 Underneath all this visible beauty survival is precarious for jaguars, Florida panthers, many birds, whales, turtles...the list seems endless. But one danger, we can do something about easily. The Center for Biological Diversity offered this thoughtful science to hunters, and gun users everywhere. Lead ammunition puts humans and wildlife at risk. That surprised me.

California condors were brought back from the brink of extinction starting with efforts in 1996 at a tremendous cost. These majestic birds began dying at unusually high rates since their heroic rescue. Scientific studies traced it to lead poisoning from hunting and fishing. Condors are carrion eaters and just one abandoned lead ridden carcass or gut pile can poison several birds and cause death. Other scavengers, Owls, hawks, eagles and vultures are impacted. Small birds  mistake lead pellets or fishing tackle for grit or seed. Birds at risk  include pheasant, grouse, songbirds, waterfowl and wading birds, as well as golden eagles, sandhill cranes, trumpeter swans, peregrine falcons, all are poisoned by lead if they encounter it. People who eat deer and elk or other game shot with lead ammunition are ingesting tiny fragments of lead from shattered bullets. Fragments  too small for the human eye to see.  Lead is a neurotoxin that affects children at very low levels.
For hunters and fishermen, its an easy fix. Choose lead free bullets and tackle. Lead ammo has been banned in California. It doesn't ban hunting or fishing, just the lead. So, if you get a chance to support a vote for banning lead bullets in your state, support it. Then we can always appreciate these gorgeous beauties.
 

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF MONTE WOLF

Mountain man Monte Wolfe chose the rugged canyons of the Sierra Nevadas as his home where he could range unhindered over several hundred square miles, hunting, trapping and fishing. He prided himself on his ability to live off the land and turned himself into a legend in the process. He loved the grandeur of the mountains and the quiet, privacy it offered. He liked people,too, on his terms. Some swore he was a wanted man, and were afraid of him. Others loved him for his unique lore of the woods and his willingness to share it. Monte disappeared in 1940. Those who knew him speculate that he would have enjoyed the controversy and mystery his disappearance caused.
Harry Schimke of Sonora was the last person to see him alive. He and his brother Art had a cabin in the Stanislaus range where they wintered and knew Monte from 1936 to 1940. Monte visited them whenever they were in camp.
"When I first met Monte," said Harry, "he was hiring out as a mountain guide from a tent at Tamarack. He'd take hunters and fishermen into the remote canyons. When he wasn't on a trip, he'd put on a campfire for the summer people. He was quite a showman and he'd tell great stories of his hunts with a lot of flourish. It was obvious he liked to entertain. Near Tamarack was a guy and his wife, Retha and Louis Bauer. They were good friends for years but not long after I met him, they had a falling out and Monte avoided their place. Louie would sit all day with a jug and lace his wine with pepper to spice it up a bit. Louie had it in for Monte and spoke viciously about "getting" Monte someday and I believe he was capable of doing Monte in. It was rumored Monte had an affair with Retha and Louis hated him for it. Louis was such a drunk and M0nte was so normal, and a virile man. I believed it. Besides, Retha was half Indian like Monte.
"Anyway, he gave up his GUIDE operation and continued to sell furs, hunt, fish, garden and live off the land. He'd have a drink with us at the cabin, or if someone else was buying, he'd drink at the bar, but he didn't buy drink, nor smokes. I never saw him inebriated.
"Monte turned into a superman after he disappeared, but he wasn't a superman really. He was a small guy about 165 pounds, but he was tough. He could hike miles up and down hill through rough country with a 100 pound pack on his back like it was nothing. He had huge calf muscles from all that hiking and he wasn't young. I remember him talking about being in WWI, but he was in such good shape he looked like he was in his forties. He had a habit of disappearing for months and then he's just pop in on you. I think he liked the idea of being a little mysterious and not telling anybody too much about his past.
"I liked Monte but he wasn't well liked by everyone. For one thing, he tended to take things that didn't belong to him. If something was left unused, he'd take it an use it. It was his way, but it caused resentments. Then there was his problem with Louis Bauer. He had a few scrapes with the law but the constable considered him harmless and didn'[t act on them. Some people said he was an ex-con running from the law. People were a little afraid of him. He had a temper if you got him riled up. And, no one knew for sure what his real name was. Veda Linford knew him well and wrote a book on Monte called Monte, The Lone Wolf of the Mokelumne. Its pretty accurate.
He stayed with us one night at Alpine. He took off the next morning on his skis. It was January, 1940. I saw his tracks up around Wheeler Lake on April 1st. That was the last sign of Monte Wolf. In June, the Linfords went to his cabins and found no sign of Monte. The last date marked off his calendar was April 20th.
To be continued.

ESCANABA IN DA MOONLIGHT-YA GOTTA BE KIDDIN'

I moved from Escanaba, Michigan in 1954. During the last fifty plus years in California I’ve seen references to Escanaba three times. One reference is a sign-post on the MASH television series; another was Jimmy Stewart’s speech for the United States Bicentennial Celebration in 1976 in which he eloquently recited the names of gobs of cities from every state in the union. Escanaba was one of them. The third came from my political science teacher at Ohlone Jr. College in Fremont who described Escanaba as “…the Appalachia of Michigan…
What are the odds that a little known town sitting on Little Bay de Noc in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan would be the subject of a play in the small town of Murphys, California?
Oh, for crumps sake, I hadda go see it, doncha know. I ain’t givin’ the story away, now, or anyting. Ya wanna see it, aye? Its darn funny.
UP-ers are a bit covetous of being from the Upper part of the state. They don’t have much in common with the big city folk in Detroit and like it that way. Beer and whiskey drinkers, hunters and fishermen, they would not have identified with the Wine Club that enjoyed a fine repast in the lobby of the Black Bart Playhouse to see Escanaba In Da Moonlight. The play, written by Jeff Daniels while he was filming “Dumb and Dumber” is performed by the Murphys Creek Theatre Company at the Playhouse in Murphys, Friday and Saturday nights and Sunday matinees through March 8th. It’s worth a trip to the motherlode. Its a hoot!!