Remembering the Camping trips

When the the four of us older boys (Jack, Dick, Bob, Jim) were able to navigate the mountain trails
we did a lot of camping . Most of our trips were to the good fishing lakes. The first big trek was with our Dad. we carried every thing on our backs and the loads were not light. It was up along the Canadian border and ended way down in a ravine to a lake that had "land locked" salmon. We feasted on fish like  never again. It was a paradise camp. The trail was miles long and I still today think we were lucky to have not encountered "Big Bears".I will now skip to the Trip that my Dad took us four older boys  on in 1947 . We were all back from our WW11 service and discharged from the Navy (except Jim) he hadn't joined the marines as yet.
We were packed in by a local man with several horses. Again we walked (hiked) all the way to a lake in Canada called "Mirror Lake". what a wonderful time we all had celebrating our being home from the service and all being in one piece.

one of the faded pics show Dad,on the right next Bob. next, Dick and Jim on the left.

Blizzard at Bell creek
One evening during the Winter in the early thirties (I was probably about seven years old) the snow that had been falling all day was being accompanied by some strong winds.
All of us kids went to bed early, probably to keep warm.
Our upper floor(gained by climbing 5 or 6 steps was where all of the young ones slept except the baby who  shared the downstairs bedroom with mom and dad.
Sometime before midnight the blizzard was blowing snow through the eves and some of the roof shakes. Anyway it was snowing on our beds.
dad and mom got us  all bundled up and away we went Grandpa Bells place, about a mile distance.
For Me (and the other siblings) it was an "Adventure" because we were all put in cozy little places to sleep at our Grandpa Bells' place.

P.S. Our log cabin home did not suffer too bad, just had to wait for the visitor (the snow) to go away.

 

Watching a steam "donkey" being built from the ground up.
While growing up at Bell Creek, I and my two older brothers were able to see a steam donkey (logging) being built from start to finish. I remember that the two men doing the work were friendly and didn't mind us being around.
As near as i can remember the two skids (runners) were logs about 30ft. long and about 3ft. in diameter.
Each end of the logs were tapered up (all by hand) and all with an ax.This enabled it to travel like a sled. The two logs were connected by big planks to support the steam boiler the housing covering the winches that contained the cable. When it was completed, the engine (steam powered) turned the winch (operated by one of the men pulling the cable in (which had been secured to a tree) up the direction they wanted to go.Pulling the cable in caused the sled to go up to the point where the cable was then secured further up the hill, thus the steam donkey would eventually reach the top of the area that they intended to log.

Note:This type of enjoyment for us boys cannot be described by just words. Our (mine) life was filled with treasured happenings that makes me grateful that I have been (above money) wealthy my whole life.
Thanks for enduring me again. I will be back

   

For what it's worth
A few years ago I read an article about an Asian woman ( don't remember what country) that was diagnosed with cancer. Being very poor and not able to afford medicine, or any kind of treatment, she had to "tough it out by herself".
One night she felt hotter than usual and knew her temperature was extremely high. She went to sleep, with her family worried and expecting the worse as the night passed.
when she awoke the next morning she felt her temperature and sickness was gone.
The cancer never came back, and she, and her family believe that the high temperature must have killed the cancer.
Enter now, Me.
When I was a teen at my Samish Valley home, All of us older boys did a lot of camping and hunting at one of the lakes on Chuckanut Mountain.We all had our rifles and loved the camping and hunting trips.
This one particular time we all decided to go I was "loaded" with a chest cold , head cold, and crappy flu.
I was not too healthy at that moment, but decided I would go anyway.
With backpacks loaded, and with our rifles slung on our backs we were off
We started up the mile or so trail that led to the top of Chuckanut Mountain.Over the last few years we had made this same trip many times. Because of its steepness the trail led a zigzag course and along the way there were certain landmarks that we had given names to. about a third of the way up was a big rock outcropping that we called( the elephants ear) further up was the "long" tressel that we crossed over a deep canyon. along the route too was a tall fir tree that we called the (blue grouse tree) we were "in the last few years" able to "harvest" several "blue" grouse birds usually using a 22 caliber rifle. once one fell from the top of the tree and as soon as it hit the ground the two of us "at that time" rushed over to the spot where it landed but never found the little "sneaker".
Back to my Story:
After an hour of steady hiking, and sweating (especially me this time) we reached the top of the mountain where we usually spent the night at the sight of the old Log camp. One of the buildings was a good shelter for us from cold and weather. 
Guess what ?? 
To put an end to my story, and to get my point across, I realized that i had gotten rid of my chest and head
cold and flu, and felt just great...........Evidently I had sweated it out of my body.

Thanks for reading this.

Hawaiian-fish and song story
Our family lived in the town of Bellingham for a few months between the move from Bell Creek to our Country (five acre "shangri-la") ranch in the Samish Valley. 
During the time we lived in Bellingham I was in the 6th grade class at Roeder School. My teacher was a ms. Hoag. Ms. Hoag spent her summer vacations in Hawaii. All of us (her class) were treated to bits of Hawaiian lore and a few songs that she taught us and sang as she played a Ukelele. I still remember parts of the songs. one was: 
(I wanna go back, to my little grass shack
In Kealakekua Hawaii 
Where the Humuhumhnukunukuapua'a
go swimming by.)
In the fall (1936) Ms. Hoag was back and most of her same class (me included) and we were treated to her summer vacation stories. She brought back some "Poi," a staple food in hawaii she told us, we all got to taste it and all I remember i it tasted like "mud". Another rememberance of that great time was Ms. Hoags' Favorite candy bar ( she would get one of us to go across the street to buy one) was a U-no bar.

PS
Now allow me to say "ALOHA"  Thanks for your reading this Blog...Love you

Which one looked forward (the most) to the next week.?
During my working years at the road dept. in Klamath Falls, Or. I was riding one day in a company Pickup with a fellow employee. we were travelling on the old State highway that ran through Modoc Point, and Fort Klamath, up to nearly Crescent Or.
Along one of the desolate strips of roadway we passed an abandoned, run down old house that sat back off by its lonely self. My friend, riding with me in the pickup,pointed to the old structure and said "I lived there when I was a young boy" He then went on to say that he has never forgotten the trucker that made deliveries to Klamath Falls once a week passing his house nearly the same time and the same day each trip.
I would stand by the side of the road to watch him go by. Mainly because he would toss a small bundle near me which always contained some candy. I would wave to the driver while scurrying to get the package.
This gesture of kindness I'll always remember, and how exciting when that day of the week approached.

P.S.
When he finished his story I couldn't help but wonder, Which one of them looked "most" to the next trip.

Praise =Pull = Fun.
My oldest brother' Jack, was always the biggest and strongest of the rest of us brothers. We looked forward to his being the "Boss". When we were small boys, Jack 10, Dick 9, Bob 8, Jim 7 we enjoyed being pulled in our wagon.With acres of terrain to enjoy at our Bell Creek home we, the "riders" found (by accident) a way to get our free Wagon ride. During one of his "pulls" Jack stopped and looked back at us in the wagon and said "You guys don't even like me for pulling you" We all said,at once " Oh yes we sure do", "You are so strong to be able to pull us like you do" Say no more, Jack could pull the loaded wagon all day knowing  we appreciated him doing it.
This little episode was remembered by us (riders) over the years and when I told of it to my wife Donna she thought it was a cute story and depicted it on the cover of the first art book she "authored" called "Paint and Tell". Published in 1981.
Jack (pulling) Dick and Bob (riding) Jim (pushing)...........{ pure fun}

 

1929 Model A Roadster, "Where are you"
In June 1942 I bought a Fun to drive,Fun to own, 1929 Red, Model A Ford Roadster with a Rumble Seat.
I actually bought it for transportation to my new Job with the Glacier (Washington) Ranger Station as a "fire lookout". I parked the car at the Ranger Station in the end of along shed that stored various equipment.
After my Summer term ended I came home without the car. (needed Battery, or needed gas,) Can't really remember. But before I could get it the 50 or 60 miles home I joined the Navy with my two older Brothers.
When i was discharged three years later there was no car to be found and nobody knew what might have happened to it. I just had to forget about it But, wish it had still been there, and i had it now.

Weiners for all, or One for all weiners.
Up behind our place in the Samish Valley was an old (abandoned) railroad grade. Ties and tracks were gone
but it was a nice level place to enjoy (get-togethers). there was a rope swing attached to a nearby tall fir tree and was one of our amusements to swing way out over everyone even the fire if we had one. Mainly just "hanging out" and being together was what we enjoyed most. Some nights we would have bon-fire parties.
On one particular night our group decided to have a "Weiner Roast".The evening progressed with  everyone having a good time,but after an hour or so most of us were ready to eat.There was always an abundance of sharpened sticks to use to roast the hot dogs (weiners), and each one was their own cook. The fire had burned down to perfect hot coals. Jack, my oldest brother went to to the place beneath a nearby log to "fetch" the big package of weiners. He let out a yell as he held up an empty wrapper and was scolding Thunder "our dog" who was waddling away and burping on the path back to the house.

Hard Candy, given to young boys.
Our aunt and uncle had a small store at the bridge (small bridge) crossing Bell Creek. The store front had a covered porch with a wooden bench on it. On that bench on nice days, our Uncle's mother would sit enjoying the outdoors, and passing cars (though very seldom), and the people who might be going by or coming to the store.Some of the people that passed by would be doing it on purpose, and that (people) was Me and my two brothers. We made sure "granny" was there before we passed even if it meant waiting awhile because she would always motion us to come over and from her pockets would produce a few of the old fashioned Christmas candy. These were great treats for us and the candies lasted a long time in your mouth. RIP Granny, miss your cand.. I mean, miss you. 

A door was opened, and an invitation came forth.
In 1930 the "Great depression" was one year old, and I was five years old. It would be another year until I could start first grade, but on this day I was a "visitor"at the Bell Creek school house. The School had eight grades in the one large room The rows of desks separated the different grades.It was a custom to invite the ones that would be starting the next term to spend a day with the current class.This day I would guess that there was at most twelve students representing all eight grades. Yes! a very small School..
In the front of the room was a large wood burning stove. The top was flat and a large pan of water was heated for all of the small jars of cocoa each one brought from home. Beyond the stove and the teachers desk was a back door that was used for anyone needing to go to the outhouse. The outhouse had two separate doors one for the boys section and one for the girls.
The morning session had started when the teacher went to the door to let some fresh air in or for some other reason, and as the door was cracked open the Sun flashed in on the wall and on the floor. 
I was sitting up front facing all of this and without hesitation I shouted out "Come on in, Mr. Sun"
Laughter, and Giggles followed my outburst (And a reminder of it followed me for sometime) from my brothers and some of the school friends.

Lots of flames, but luckily no fire.
At our log home at Bell Creek we didn't have electricity for the first few years. just "coal oil" (kerosene) lamps.I yet remember the pleasing smell of those burning lamps.And, not too surprising I have several in our home to enjoy looking at. Back now to the "flames". One Christmas I remember our tree (fir tree) was decorated by mostly homemade things like popcorn strung on string for decoration, and probably a small Santa or two, but for our lighting we had little clip-on candle holders with small Birthday size candles in them these were clipped to the outer end of the branches and when all done probably a dozen or more that we lit when we were ready to enjoy our Christmas Eve. In a wood (log) house with cedar shake roof it seems scary to me now. No worry I guess because outside of our back door was the pump that when primed would furnish water from the "well" below. Now, I'm really scared.
Another blog soon. see ya. 

He didn't pay, Or did he??
One nasty (rain and wind) night, at our samish valley home, there was a knock on our front door.
Now we had a fairly secluded place with no close neighbors so one of us opened the door and there 
stood a man, wet, and looking exhausted. He said his car was stuck off the side of the road about a half mile 
up the road. Said he needed help shoving it free and that he would pay us to help him. So us three oldest 
boys (in our early teens) but able bodied agreed to help him.Off we went to a short side road that we were familiar with ( used usually as a lovers lane) and yes his car was mired down in the rear in the rain soaked ground. The man (with his girl friend sitting beside him) started the car put in gear and as we three boys pushed from behind the car gained the firm ground and off he sped. We shouted at him driving away but
knew we were not getting paid. The in the light of our flashlight we spotted a very expensive coat, a top notch shovel, and a car jack that he tried to use to free himself. We were compensated for sure. But
we would never have charged him for our help. 

No Pig, No pork.
I will now explain the above 'caption" with the following narrative.In the early thirties at our log home my oldest brother "Jack" was given a little piglet to raise.Of course that meant future chops, bacon etc. which meant a lot to our big family during this depression era. Jack named the little fellow "rosie". He (jack) took the job of making a pen, and caring for it with feeding and water and a makeshift shelter. over the next few months "rosie" grew to a pretty good size and my Dad made plans to stop feeding the big "porker" and let it feed us .
In the process of carrying out this chore the pig darted out of the open gate of the pen and took off running.My Dad was quite fleet of foot also and nearly caught "rosie" more than once but the pig (they are not a dumb animal),perhaps knowing its fate raced towards the nearby river. It jumped in the river and that was the last we saw of "pork chops".

"The Warm Man" hide and seek game "spoiler"
One evening while we were living in our Bell Creek log home, two of our cousins were visiting and all of us kids, (grade school age) and younger too, were playing hide and seek. It was dark outside but the lights from the house made a few areas visible except the big shed where Our old lizzy (car) was stored and Misc. item in the back corners. These corners made for good hiding places so some of us took turns hiding there.
One of my cousins was the first to mention a feeling in one of the corners of a "Warm" sensation.One of my brothers piped up saying he felt like there was a person hiding there. None of us kids wanted to go to the back of the shed any more because of the "warm man" lurking there. We quit our game ,went inside, and  never mentioned it again.  

Horse whisperer (My Dad)
I am proud of the reputation my Dad had of his ability to handle a team of horses. It seemed as though he could bond with any he was around or owned. And he did own a team of percheron draft horses that were said to have been 18 hands high.(they were big). He used them for logging as that was what he did for a few years when I was quite young. at night he would rub them down with gunny sacks and also used a curry tool to use on their muscles.I remember him talking to them in a soothing tone as he gave them their after work rub down. Also in the morning he talked to them as he walked beside and between them in the stalls as he was putting on the harnesses.
One morning there was a huge commotion out at the barn. My dad hurried out to see what was going on and discovered the whole back of the barn had been kicked to pieces. (the section behind the horses.). he said when he came back to the house that a bear had made the mistake of wanting to have some horsemeat to eat.  More of Dad and horses later. bye

The two settings of my Blog memories
Until I was about ten years old I lived (with my family) In the Log house built by my dad
this was at Bell Creek,  area named after my Granddad
At that age we moved to the Samish Valley. to an unbelievable Idyllic setting.It was a five acre
place nestled between two mountains with a creek (our water supply) that surrounded the sides and front of the property. There was a small barn that was used for the milk cow that we kept all of our time there.
We were able to fish the creek for trout and although they were small mostly, they were Sooo delichious
 This Blog was intended to show the two settings from my stories More next time Thanks.

Too many eyes for just one dog.
Some things stay pretty vivid in your mind. Such as, the following happening. When I was in my early teens,we lived pretty primitive, so to speak, and lived out where a cougar's (mountain lion") scream was ordinary at night. Well, one early evening I had opened the door of our out house preparing to leave when two shiny eyes was looking at me from about thirty feet away from  the reflection of the light from our back porch about two hundred feet behind me. Assuming it was "Thunder" our dog I said something to him (cant remember what), but as I turned towards the house and the back porch the light there showed Thunder resting there. Fastest trip from Outhouse to Our house ever made.  

Why wood my sister empty a drawer of her dresser ?
 The answer is hinted in the title of this blog. While my two older brothers and I were off to serve our Country during WWII our oldest sister (but still young) was more or less left in charge of things at our rural
home.Keeping enough wood on the porch for the cooking stove and the heating stove kept her younger siblings busy.and sometimes not enough wood was stacked on the porch. So at times she would transfer wood from the porch to her dresser drawer so that the required amount would be brought by the young ones leaving a little "cushion" for the wood supply. This happened probably once or twice but it remained one of the laughable things remembered by the family. 

Matching "wits" with the ouija board 
I was a young boy when I first heard of this (event). A Motor Stage (vehicle) was late on its return to Maple Falls (a small community) north of Deming Washington, and as the time began to worry some of the family of one of the occupants, one of the members said" let's ask the ouija board where the Stage is".of course just for something to occupy time while waiting. two of the family put their finger tips on the board and asked "where is the stage" the answer came as it spelled out "Sumas" It brought a chuckle from them all as Sumas was quite a few miles west of the stage route. About an hour later the stage rolled in and as the ones getting off they were explaining the reason for the delay. "A bridge had washed out before they got to Deming and they had to travel west to the bridge at Sumas to get back to the route.

 

A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss.
Not True, Not True. My two older Brothers and I were always active (rolling) like most kids.
When our Dad built our first house (A log cabin) we three boys were made to gather moss
from the woods nearby to fill the gaps in the logs to keep out the weather and to make for warmth
from cold air. We were one year apart so I would guess are ages at 7, 6 and 5. I remember it well
and enjoyed the "gathering". My brother Dick did an "express strip" of clothes when a thousand legged worm ( that's what we named them) (lived in the moss) fell down his shirt. Just one of the unforgettable
happenings when we were young. Will try to get a pic. of that log cabin to show here later. 

How singing extended my lifespan.
I was 16 years old when I signed a contract with the Glacier Ranger station for the position of observer
(smoke) at the Copper Mountain Lookout  located on the U.S. Canadian border.This duty was shared by another young man so as to give 24 hr "lookout"for fire danger (Another Story)
Below our lookout, guessing about a half mile, Was a small lake from where we got our water. the terrain was steep so a zig zag trail was used.
One day on my turn to get water I reached the edge of the small pond, unscrewed the big cap on the water can when I heard a sound. Turning I saw the head of a Grizzly (or brown) I didn't ask. This bears head was 
as large as a washtub.He evidently hadn't detected me yet.I turned and remember screwing the lid back on the can (survival instinct) intending to use it as a float if I needed to jump in the water.
To make sure he knew of my presence I started singing, this made him aware of me being there because when I turned to check. He was gone. I filled some water in the can ,strapped it on my back and even today I still cant remember taking the zigzag route back up the hill. Glad he heard my Singing, Kinda hope it wasn't the reason he left.(just kidding).

Touching, seems to have a "language " of it's own.
Growing up, I remember a time or two when I had to "fetch" a switch for the "switcher" and the butt of the switchee felt a "touch". (That was one kind). On another occasion in school, I was thumped on the chest by a bully, I would label that a challenge that needed a quick decision. (another kind of touch). Then,as I experienced life in the "job" world I remember, on meeting anyone, that I continued to keep liking was the ones that showed that they liked me by touching my arm or shoulder as they greeted me.(This kind of touching speaks without words). Lastly, (example) If I happen to be in my home "Pondering" things such as 
finances, appointments ,health, etc. And my (love) my wife touches me as she scurries bye, then, (guess what).
I can mount my Steed raise my saber and charge any enemy that I would encounter ever.

It's me again:
I write down things that I think about that happened during my lifetime that might be of some use to others.Now I have the opportunity to share these thoughts on my blog posts.(Ready ??)
Greener pastures:
We all have the choice, as we journey forward, to see something that looks better than what we presently have. Perhaps, Perhaps not. The following story is mine to tell because it involved Me.
My Parents had eleven kids.Eight boys, three Girls.Our family grew up in a paradise environment in the country (that story another time). This is about the choice made by my Dad. when we were youngsters, the oldest probably fifteen years old my Dad left our family for "greener pastures" His Pastures brought him a reasonable amount of wealth,and two more marriages.He expressed regret about leaving his family even wanted to get back with my mother to no avail. a few short years later (at age sixty one) he slumped over at 
his dinner table (my oldest brother and Dads third wife were present) Not a clear reason for his death except for a reason that his second wife gave me (and I believe it) She said "your Dad died of loneliness".

Back again soon:
(I know,I know, but you'll just have to wait)        

Thanks for looking at my first blog.

Please let me know how to keep up with your blog too.  I wish to relate only the interesting "happenings" that I recall from my ninety years.

I was fortunate to have lived in "my" time, because it was the "people time".  Most everyone had time for anyone else..... as an example: picnics in the summer were attended by all neighbors and even neighborhoods or communities.

The benefits were endless from this type of "people" get to-gethers.

I am letting this be my first blog just to test the waters.

Hope to see you soon and often. I can't wait to see my next blog post.

Thank you Friends.  Thank you