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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Jan 16, 2013 - 12:50pm PT
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After the so-called "meadow riots" of the summer of 1970 in the valley, the rangers tried to come up with a plan on how to handle the "hippies"... Was his name "Herb" (the irony must have escaped me at the time); who was the long haired older guy who used to hang around the Degnan dorms and the Donohoe house. He got stoned in the meadows a lot and like to let people know he was on acid. Anyway, he told me he had a meeting with the rangers and they asked him what he thought they should do. He thought about it for a while and he said "Throw pies. If the hippies start throwing rocks throw pies back at them." They stared at him for a while in disbelief and then one of them sighed and said "You know, it just might work." As far as I know, nothing ever came of it.
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Jan 16, 2013 - 08:05pm PT
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Ah yes....the meadow riots. Before that, it was a pretty groovy scene around Stonemans Bridge. I posted this in another thread, so I just moved it here...typing is such a chore...
Lets see...being a 18 yr old kid from Merced in 1968, Yosemite was my San Francisco and Stonemans bridge was my Haight Street. Became a full hippie by smoking my first joint under said bridge. Met two freaks in a van named Thor and Raoul, scored a handful of Purple Double Domes and tripped with my buddies for the first time among the cascades above Happy Isles. And it was a Full Dose. Just like the movies. I recall the rocks were spongy and looked like persian rugs.
Lots of other groovy stuff happened over the summer(s). Missed the Stoneman Meadows riot...ironically, I was in SF that weekend.
Got busted by ranger Bob Cahill for pot, locked up in the Yosemite jail, sent to Mariposa for grilling, then two nights in Merced juvi. Bummer. But I did get a job as a Merced city garbage man from my probation officer, so all was cool. Great job.
Not too long after that, I ran into de Flames, was taught to tie a figure eight, and the rest is history.
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Jan 16, 2013 - 08:16pm PT
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Peggy Lou and some skinny kid in 1970
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Jan 17, 2013 - 09:51am PT
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I was working in the reservations office for Yosemite Park and Curry Co. the summer of the "riots". I remember them happening. The summer before I also hung out at Stoneman's Bridge and procurred LSD for a few trips around the park...
Never got "busted" fortunately.
I remember after the riots, tourists used to call to make reservations for the hotel or other lodging. They would often ask "Are the hippies still there?" And I would usually answer in a very sweet voice "Why yes, we are still here". I also used to record the weather report for the rangers and I always introduced myself as "Sharing Flowers" sort of in the voice that Leigh French used to use to introduce herself on the Smother Brother's section "Have a Little Tea with Goldie".. "HIgh, (giggle, pause) I am" etc. Somehow I manage to get away with it all... ha ha ha ha ha
So you can hear yesterday's radio show today and for one week. The first new one in a while since my son's accident. He is doing okay but still can't put weight on his leg so he is still a bit helpless but getting stronger every day.
So go here http://www.ashevillefm.org/musical-migrations and click on "listen" just below the words "stream link" on the playlist side of the page.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 17, 2013 - 11:02am PT
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dOD9wXOm8lk
My gramma's old Cocker Spaniel was named Blossom. When she died whe was a blind, creepy, crippled old thing, only 25. She lived in the basement her last five years, poor thing.
Mike, my older brother, said we should leave her out for the coyotes at Delta down by the river.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 17, 2013 - 01:11pm PT
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Leggs!
I did ring. I thought this was a terrific shot. Getting to the top is what it's about.
Drive on, Kid! Love your thread! Such fun family & friends...Thanks from the Flames to you for sharing it all. You are a bright flame hereabouts.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 17, 2013 - 02:29pm PT
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This is Barbara, my mom. She knew how to enjoy life.
The folks ran into Eric Ryback on his journey down the PCT in the early seventies. They fed him trout. He thanked the family by sending them a copy of his book.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 17, 2013 - 03:02pm PT
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Brother Mike's friend Greg Sykes helped him knock living ducks from the skies. My mother insisted he clean them, get rid of the feathers, and freezed them. She only served the birds he shot on holidays. I don't care for duck, can't stand quail, and I'll not snipe at my brother's profligacy. Most of the frozen birds went to waste, sad to say.
Mike used dogs to chase animals, too. But no mas. It's no longer legal in California. YAY! But he still spends oodles of time hunting all over the place, and goes fishing in AK and BAJA. He's a lot healthier than I am, wealthier, too, in his retirement. I think he earned it working for the MID his whole career. The 'coons and bobcats hereabouts breathed a sigh of relief when Mike ceased fire. Literally. He used to hunt right along the area bordering the UC Merced campus, home of the Bobcats.
Boar from out in the Mariposa hills. A very BIG boar, from the looks of it.
Mike often had to deal with Tourons and campers and the occasional dead body (one found originally by his wife on her way along the lake shore one day) as the head of the recreational department for the district. His first act as the new boss was to notify his wife that she was no longer eligible to work for the MID on account of tism. She had been a seasonal employee, manning the entrance kiosk to Lake McSwain/Lake McLure on the Merced River.
She managed. Michelle worked for the Barrett's Cove marina store for a long while after that.
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Jan 17, 2013 - 03:04pm PT
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These must be on the way to Berkeley, I recognize the one on the left.
This woman believed that copying the zBrown patented v-sign might curry some favor, but she's needs some work on the execution, before it can be discussed seriously. On second thought maybe it was curry and flavor or rogan josh.
Be that as it may, given a choice would you choose Grave's disease? I thought so. Well, I didn't have a choice but that's what I'm told is the likely candidate. I wonder if I could just duct tape it off? This is in no way, nor should it be construed to be, a solicitation for free medical advice.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 17, 2013 - 03:17pm PT
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We BARK for BERKELEY!
We BARK for BEARS!
We BARK for BARAK!
We BARK in the BARKING LOT!
We BARK at the EMBARKADERO!
We BARK for TREES!
We literally BARK for ANYTHING AT ALL!
It's what we do, besides sh#t.
We love the BARKANSAS TRAVELER!
BARK! BARK! BARK!
Whaddya say, Elvis?
MIKE! Shut those dogs up!! Your Father's sleeping!!
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Jan 17, 2013 - 06:21pm PT
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lostinshanghai
Social climber
someplace
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Jan 17, 2013 - 07:40pm PT
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“Boar from out in the Mariposa hills. A very BIG boar, from the looks of it.”
No way; do not believe it. Mariposa? Seen some small babies but that one? Come on Mouse tell me you are making this up.
Many years back of having lived in Hollywood, good old Southern California back then [not the case now]: a good friend of mine who was in Special Forces in Nam about the same time 67/68 we both go into an auto repair shop in San Fernando Valley ‘70/’71. Can’t recall for what? But we waited since it was going take about a half hour. Two guys working on the car asked us if you want any coffee. Sure, they then go on to proceed to whatever that needed to be done. We sit down start bullsh%ting about something while the other two are discussing about what they did last weekend, this is interesting in fact quite interesting.
Boars but not your typical boars: Russian and wild.
We proceed to ask where the best location to find these guys; ‘they mention up the coast just near Hearst Castle’.
We pack some weapons and the usual stuff [booze] in the back seat and the trunk of my ‘68 Camaro for a couple days to recon or check these guys out.
We get out of town hit Highway 1 and start proceeding north. Pee stops, getting caught for speeding, stopping for gas and eating just prior to Hearst Castle but we took our time no hurry, most likely we were stoned the same time.
We were about 80 miles closer to our destination when I got the speeding ticket. CHP gets out of his car and approaches us and sees that we have our green military jackets on with our patches. Takes a look in the back seat and they can see and came to the conclusion that were hunting for something and asks what do you plan to hunt?
Russian boar, I answer.
This is the first story we actually hear about these guys and he tells us a couple stories on hunting these things. He gives us a warning to slow down; we thank them and continue on Highway 1.
Next up to take a pee and get some gas. Small gas station no more than one or two pumps. Guy comes out and sees the same thing and asked you going hunting for boar? We said yes and he gives us a couple stories as well.
One more last stop before we go into the hills and in the back part of Hearst Castle were a US base was used to experiment on the newer Apache helicopters for Nam. This time this guy is missing some fingers and he gives a couple stories.
We had plenty of booze, plenty of gas and proceed on our adventure. I look at Carl and start bringing up all the stories [a good half-dozen] of what we were in store for. We both laughed and say fish stories and that they were just fuking with us.
Sure one guy runs up the tree and is there for two days while a small pack of these boars are waiting for him to come down. We had laughed at that one. Then there was the guy that was missing the fingers; give me a break. We heard the stories about dogs and if you did use them guaranteed to lose half of them. Yeah! Sure. The best one was a guy get eaten alive before his friends could kill two boars that were eaten him and it was not easy you had a hit or kill them in a certain way.
We get our location late at night see the warning signs in entering the military reservation and set up camp. We get up the morning, military car pulls up and says you need permits drive down to the base, building number ? Pay a fee to do as you please. No photos. And he also gave us a couple stories.
We asked a place for breakfast in the area and he suggests one just off the base towards highway 101. He said you’re going that way anyway and is a 15 minute drive from the building, then come back in show your permits at the gate and go back up in the hills. He drives off and since we are in the area we thought it would be a good idea for half an hour to an hour to check the area before heading down. We take our guns out of the cases, I strap on a Colt 45 automatic pistol and we proceed to walk around the area.
Hear! Little piggy, piggy, piggy. Hey! You little piggy; come out, come out wherever you are.
Nothing.
We proceed down the valley looking at these cool futuristic choppers and thinking those are nice. We get off the base, get to the restaurant, parked the car and then walked in. Was more of a bar than a restaurant so we climb up on the stools and this lady with quite a pink nose asks us what we wanted to eat? We order. It was quite dark in this bar but you can still make out things. She brings us breakfast, we had been drinking coffee.
We both start eating our breakfast and for some reason there’s something that catches both our eyes to the right of us not too far away on the wall. I do know not know what Carl did but I dropped my fork and knife into the plate. We both get up and proceed to see what this is.
A trophy or the head of what we’re trying to hunt and kill. The woman said so far the largest one shot and said the #####. We had no doubt to disbelieve her. The tusks on this guy were unbelievable. All those stories we had heard the day before now came to light. Photos were on the wall as well looking at them a tow truck had to be used.
One problem: We didn’t have big enough guns.
My 45 would have worked but just to my head to say bye, bye, so long, take it easy if we ran into the size we saw in the bar.
We went back home bought the appropriate guns; for me I chose a .308 brush short barrel pump and we went back two weeks later. We had not laughed hearing from others through the years. The screams from them dying is something else.
Not too long ago 2010 was in the hills just above Carmel at a nice house and asked if any around and the owner said yes and asked the Russian kind? She knew and said yes. She then proceeded to say ‘you know they can kill you’, I responded this is the only thing I would hunt. No dogs, just him and me.
Her husband I went out the next day. He took a Bow with him with some nice blades for the tips. Asked me if I ever used one; said to him be a first but “hell why not” What can happen:
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Jan 17, 2013 - 07:58pm PT
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hey there say, gypsy... am so very glad to hear you son is doing better... hope he liked the little dreamcatcher that i sent for him...
(i sent it to mouse, to send to him,, as--mouse wanted to send you one, also, as a surprise)...
happy son time, to you!! and god bless!
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Jan 17, 2013 - 07:58pm PT
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 17, 2013 - 08:48pm PT
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Jay, to be honest, which is called for with you, my fined friend, I think the goldarned boar is from Mariposa, though it may not be as large as I might have suggested. Hell, it may even be one Mike killed at Hunter-Liggett. But the timing on the slide indicates early days, which means Mariposa Co. The Rev and I were cruising out Bear Creek and took the road to Yaqui Gulch, the old Santa Cruz #2, and we saw a pack of a half-dozen pigs off to the north of us between the road and the creek, running towards the hills. This was two years ago.
http://www.liggett.army.mil/sites/fishhunt/hunting.asp
Mike had a photo published in the Merced Sun-Stroke with a small terrier atop a boar's head, him and his hunting partner on either side, so cute, so unbelievable, except that Mike insisted a dog was good for the hunt if he never gave up and this one had enough gumption to run with the pack; and even though he was way short in the legs, he kept up and did his thing and capered more after the kill than any of them, simply because he'd done his job.
Mike knows dogs. His last one was killed by a rattler. "Should've known better."
The "Frame."
Crumb got set up. Just like Sonny Liston.
We proceed down the valley looking at these cool futuristic choppers...
WTF!!!
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Jan 17, 2013 - 11:29pm PT
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Did you notice how at first all those fishes were perfectly arrayed from large to small (or vice versa) and then organization just flew out the window.
What's a mother to do?
BTW that's a great photo of your mom.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 18, 2013 - 12:24am PT
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Almost great, but there are three, what's a son to do?
I have more pictures than mothers at present.
And that's sad but true.
Boomer.Barbara.Barbara and Lenna Louise.Lenna Louise.Lenna's string and you can bet everything in her kitchen's just so.
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