Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Siskiyou Islands Part 1, Chapter 4 to 6
As Thomas and I plod our way up the ridge the sun starts to weakly break through the second growth fir, the mighty madrone, the black oak and the cedar trees. This part of the forest was heavily logged back in the 60's and had grown back nicely.
The local fire safe crew had cleared the underbrush near Roses' place the year before so we had no trouble traversing over the hard packed snow. It was easy to follow the ridge line. Only a few times did we have to make a big detour from our course due to downed trees.
Thomas said, " Geeze, Mrs.H, I am sure glad you made us learn how to read topo maps in Science Class. You are so right about how the lines on the map match the terrain."
I don't reply. As a junior high teacher I have learned to savor the few ah ha's my students admit to in what I try and teach them. Actually I think I have learned from them more than they from me.
I glance down at my watch. Duh, it is not working due to being soaked with water. I take it off and put in the small zippered pocket on my pack. I look down at my left hand. My wedding ring is still there. I think of my dear husband. Hoping he had come back early yesterday from the coast and missed being swept away by the tsunami.
I prayed a deep prayer of thanksgiving to be alive, and thanks that some of my beloved community made it through the last 24 hours. As my tear sflowed my footsteps slowed. I dropped to my knees and Thomas kept going.
I asked my Father God to give me the strength needed to make home and to guide Thomas to his family. I got up and had to quick step it to try and catch up with him.
I stumbled and fell sideways off the trail. The shock of falling on my face into the cold packed snow stunned me. I heard Keith yell, "Mrs. H, you O.K.?" The terror in his voice was like a sharp slap to my already hurting face.
I rolled over, got to my knees and yelled up to him, "Yeah, no need for bandaids!" He scurried down toward me and put out his hand. I grabbed it and he helped pull me to my feet. He said, "Don't mean to be rude but man or man are you heavy." I laughed and went on our way.
By mid-day we made it to Bark Shanty. As we stepped onto the pavement we heard "Halt, who goes there!" I recognized the voice. It was Roger my neighbor.
Now Roger is a character of great depth, intensity, compassion and wisdom. But looking into the barrel of his shotgun I knew I had to quickly answer him. At 74 his hearing was not too great. As a Seventh Day Adventist I knew he would not want to kill us. But as the patriarch of his family, he just might put his non-violence aside. Over the years he had dealt with the scum of the earth who come out to our mountains to escape the city and be the tough guy.
I yell out, "Hey Roger, its me Sis!" "Oh, so it is. Did not recognize you in that get up you are wearing." "Come on up and I'll give you lift to your place. Whose runt do you got there?"
Thomas had stepped behind me when he first heard Roger's hail. Thomas stepped out from behind me and said, "I am Thomas one of Mrs. H's students."
He offered his hand out to shake Roger's hand. Roger shook his hand and said, "We have had a few jerks come up the road in the past day trying to rip us off. Don't know who they were, but they are fertilizing the garden now. We were hoping to head down later today to town to see if we can be of help. But we wanted to wait another day after dealing with the folks who snuck in early this morning."
I asked him if his family was O.K.? He said, "Well, the wife and in laws were on the coast. We haven't heard from them yet." We got into his truck and he started the engine. He said the radio reports were bad. The only station they were picking up were from Redding and KGO in San Francisco. It seems that the quake had wide spread damage up and down the California coast.
He reported that in addition to our subduction zone quake, there was also a 8.9 on the northern and southern ends of the San Andreas. The San Leandro fault line had wiped out the east bay areas of Alameda, San Leandro, Hayward, Berkely, Oakland and that most of Contra Costa county was dealing with major loss of life and damage.
Roger said, " You know Sis, as a believer I knew we should be ready for the mountians to fall down and they have. Barry Summit and Lord Ellis have collapsed. We are totally cut off from the coast. FEMA is putting out information on the death toll state wide and we are the last of the officials concerns. I am hoping to see my family again, but I don't think I will until the day of glory."
I silently nod my head as we wind our way up Thunder Mountain. I ask Roger "Have you seen my man?" He replies, "I saw him drive in this morning and then he headed out again. Maybe he is at your place on Eyesee Two Creeks?" I shake my head and begin to pray again silently.
We get to Rogers place, get out of the truck and I give him a big hug. I told him that I would check in with him before I head out the next day. He asks if we have enough food at the trailer. I say yes, and ask him if he has a spare back pack.
We go into his house, he leads us to his pantry in the basement. He opens a locked door and hands us two newer internal frame packs. The he hands us two sleeping bags, ground cloths, flash light head lamps, a zip lock bag with extra batteries and a hand held CB radio.
He advises us on the road conditions to Somes Bar. He tells us of that Happy Camp is faring pretty well. As he speaks the concrete floor beneath me heaves up and I hit the low ceiling with my head!
A big after shock or new virgin quake!! Roger is also stunned from hitting his head on the ceiling. Thomas is shaken but has no injuries. Roger says, "Man, I don't know if I can take any more blows to my noggin." He cracks a grin, gets up, helps me up and we start picking up the supplies that have tumbled off the shelf. He tosses into the packs some bags of dehydrated veggies. We carry the packs up the stairs and at the landing we look out over his place.
Through the huge window in his living room we see a peaceful scene. Then an after shock hits and his window explodes out. In the garden area in front of the window we see a gush of water.
Roger exclaimed, "Wow, the water witch was right. There is a spring there!" Four years before he had his property surveyed by a water witch. Roger had spent over $400 trying to drill a well in the very spot the gyser was now gushing. "Well, I guess I better set to work diverting the flow away from the house. We walk out together and Thomas and I start crossing the garden towards my trailer. I live a short walk from Roger's place.
As we go through the back way I look hopefully for sign of smoke coming from the wood stove pipe. I see none. We approach the trailer and I see that my husbands truck is not in the driveway. We go to the door, unlock it and step in. The house is cold. I tell Thomas to go start a fire in the stove while I check in on my land lords next door.
There truck is gone, their dogs are barking, there is food in the dog dishes. I am hopeful they will be back. Maybe they were checking on other folks in the area.
I walk back to the trailer and I find Thomas wandering around my living room looking at my family pictures on the wall.
He looks up and says, "Mrs. H, I am too tired to keep walking today. May I stay the night?" "Of course," I reply. "But first we eat, then find you some more warm gear O.K.?" "Sure, he replies."
I go into the spare room and start pulling out into the living room duffle bags. I pull out jeans, thermals, wool socks, shirts and a Thermalite jacket of my husbands. I tell Thomas to put them in gallon zip lock bags. I toss the boxes of bags to him and he gives me an odd look. I go back to the spare room and into the bathroom. I come back with toothpaste, floss, a new brush, a comb, two rolls of t.p., more batteries, a first aide kit, a hand held CB radio and toss them towards him. He gives me an even odder look. He silently starts to add the items to the back pack.
I go to my bedroom, I unlock the gun safe and pull out a holster and a 45. I carry those out to him and tell him to try on the holster and to check the gun for bullets. I know it is empty, but I want to see how he handles the gun. I go back to my room and pull out ammo. I bring that to him. He says, "Geeze, I always thought you were pulling our leg when you said you loved guns!".
I ask him if he knows how to use and clean a handgun. He replies of course. I go back and get the spare compact cleaning kit and give it to him.
Then as he continues to pack I go to my porch pantry and open the freezer door of my fridge. I take out all the salmon, chicken and beef. I go to the kitchen and prepare the salmon and chicken to bake in the oven, and the stove top I start to make spaghetti sauce. I steam up the fresh veggies in the fridge and heat up the left over rice from dinner two nights ago. I serve up the sauce and the rice and let the rest cool down before I bag them up for our journey.
After eating I set up pad for Thomas to sleep on near the wood stove. I light the oil lamps and turn on the battery operated CD and play a soothing Lakota flute CD. The sun has set and the fire is going and I am bone tired. I head to my room and go to sleep. I decide that we will wait a day another night before we head north. I want to inventory what we can use from the trailer and I want to show Thomas where my caches are outside the trailer. I also want to add to them before I leave. I have no idea if and when I will return to Thunder Mountain. Thomas has a journey of over 55 miles and I one of 23 miles. As I rest my eyes, lying under my cold blankets I automatically reach over to turn on the AM radio to listen to Coast to Coast with George Norrie or Art Bell. Dang, without power I can't use my radio. Oh well. I bet George and Art are having a good show tonight on the recent Earth changes
Siskiyou Islands Chapter 5
The sun is blazing through my bedroom window and I roll over ready for my morning hug from Marshall. I suddenly realize he is not there. I look at the battery-operated clock and see it is 10 o’clock. Man, I have not slept in till 10 in years! My body is aching. I hear Thomas in the bathroom flushing the toilet. An aftershock hits. The trailer is rocking up and down and my bed dances across the floor.
“Ah!” screams Keith.
“Hold on!” I yell.
The trailer stops its rocking and rolling. I smell propane gas. I jump out of bed, run into Thomas in the hall.
I tell him, “Quick, grab your gear and meet me outside.”
I grab my pack, shove my feet into my boots, and run outside. The trailer is leaning off its front posts. The enclosed porch has split off from the trailer and is dangerously teetering towards collapse. I toss my gear into the carport and go to the propane tank. I shut off the valve to the trailer and unhook the piping. Thomas is standing there shell shocked in his thermal underwear holding his pack.
I tell him “Follow me.”
We go back in and I direct Thomas to finish dressing, get his gun and to start emptying out the kitchen of all the food he can carry. He takes the food to the carport. I use the fire extinguisher by the wood stove to put out the coals from last night’s fire. The flue had separated from the ceiling. I open the windows to allow the propane fumes to escape. I pull the cook stove from the wall and turn off the inlet valve. Then I methodically empty out the gun safe. I put all the weapons into an old chest freezer in the carport. We stack all the canning jars and cans of food, and five-gallon buckets of grain on top of the guns. I direct Thomas to place the cans of recycling and garbage around the freezer to make it look like a junk pile.
We go back into the trailer and empty out the stored tp, soap, and oil lamps. I figure if the trailer burns or continues down the steep mountainside at least I will be able to come back and salvage from the carport.
The last thing I grab out of the porch is a can of logging paint, blaze orange. I spray paint the date, time and OK I am on my way in 4 foot high letters on the outside wall of the trailer. I do the same on the side of the propane tank.
Thomas and I gather up our packs and head to my landlords. The house is still empty. The quake caused little damage. I smell propane and go and turn off the tank to the house.
I spray paint the same message as before on the woodshed and let the dogs off their leads. I pour out some dog chow for the dogs.
Then I remember we left the snowshoes at the trailer. We hike back up and Thomas goes into the porch to get them. By now the porch is very dangerously moaning and leaning further out from the trailer. When he gets out of the porch we start walking towards Roger’s place and we hear the porch collapsing in our wake. It takes about ten minutes to get to Roger’s. Part of his house has collapsed and we call out to him.
He comes around the backside of his house and says, “Good to see you are O.K.” He too has emptied out his house of important gear. He is setting up a huge tent in the yard. We hear a helicopter and look up to see an Army green helicopter coming towards us.
Roger’s field is designated as an official site for Mercy Air, the medical evacuation service out of Redding. We watch the copter land and a National Guardsman comes out of it and to us.
He asks, “Who are you and do you want to be evacuated to Happy Camp?”
I ask him, “Are you asking or telling?”
He replies, “Happy Camp Refugee site is set up and running and we are supposed to “ask”, but if you are O.K. it might be best to stay put.”
He notices that all three of us are armed.
He says, “No weapons are allowed and all gear brought in is inventoried and then put in a common supply for all the residents to share.”
I ask him, “What if you don’t actually see the weapons?”
He replies that, “lately my vision is a bit low and that certain concealed weapons won’t be noticed, especially if he drops folks off outside of town.”
I take Thomas aside and tell him to think long and hard about what he wants to do.
Thomas says, “I would like a ride to the outside of town please. My Mom’s place is near the dump on Elk Creek Road.”
The guardsman replied, “ Well I can get you to the landing site 3 miles up Elk Creek. The Iron Gate Dam burst and the low-lying areas are flooded. There are parts of Highway 96 underwater and almost all the bridges are gone. The FEMA folks are hard pressed to give any real help and if you think your family is home it would be better for you to go there than the camp. Most people in the camp are travelers from out of town who got stuck after the first quakes.”
He proceeds to grill us about the situation in Orleans. He did a fly by and saw the devastation. The only people he picked up above town were a couple of long haul truck drivers stuck on the highway above the high water. I tell him what happened at the school and he said there were at least 50 people in Orleans who were organizing search and rescue and that the folks left alive wanted to stay in their homes.
He said that the Cascadian Subduction Zone had indeed experienced a huge quake. Most of the coastal area was still suffering from aftershocks and that the Mad River Bluffs outside of Willow Creek were experiencing multiple small quakes. He said that after this fly by the guard would not be coming back for at least a week. It seems that there were dangerous cracks in the dams at Whiskeytown and Shasta lakes and that Redding was being evacuated. He said the middle part of the state was also experiencing quakes as well. Mt. Lassen had begun to show signs of activity and was billowing smoke ash eastwards.
Roger and I both decided not to go with him.
The guardsman asked, “May I have your names and do you wish for me to contact someone for you?
Roger and I gave him out of state contact numbers.
Then the guard said, “ There are people at Somes Bar Store who are ferrying folks across the Klamath and there is a bulletin board up for contact information.”
He and Thomas got in the copter and left flying north towards Happy Camp.
“Roger, I am going to go to the cabin. I left a message for Marshall and I did not see Carol or Jim. I fed the dogs and unhooked the propane. I will be back in 7 days to check on you. Do you want any help before I go?”
“Naw, I got all I need out of the house and the garage seems to be O.K. I am going to drive down to Mark’s place to check on Sara and the kids. Want a ride down the hill?”
“Sure do and thanks for the gear.”
He laughs and says, “No problem Sis.”
We get in his rig and drive three miles down the road and come across a big black oak that has blocked the road. Roger got out his chainsaw and bucked it up while I pulled slash. We get back in the rig and drive a bit more. At Mark’s driveway there is another tree down and we methodically clear the drive. As we go up the drive we can see smoke from the wood stove and the kids in the yards setting up a tent. The house looks stable to us from a distance but as we get closer we see that it has jumped its foundation.
Sara comes out of the tool shed and gives us a big smile. She says, “Hey there folks. How is it going?”
I tell her about the last two days. She frowns and says she has had her radio off and was not too concerned about the quakes. Her husband was up river at Happy Camp teaching school and she thought he’d make it home with in a day or two. Her phone line was down. Her house had hydroelectric power and both a wood cook and heating stove. She has her twin 10-month-old baby boys in a playpen in the yard. Her 6 year old daughter an another neighbors 10 year old daughter and 9 year old son were staying overnight when the big quake hit. Their folks had gone to the coast for a date night. Sara gets a somber look on her face when she hears about the tsunami and damage to the coastal towns. Her place is high above the river and she had no idea about the wash of water that had come up river to Orleans. Being raised in Southern California she had expereinced big quakes before and really thought nothing major had happened statewide.
Roger asks her about provisions. She said she was well situated and that no one had come by her place yet. She asks us to pull slash back across the road on our way out to deter anyone not welcome from coming up her drive. Roger reaches into his truck and hands her a shot gun and shells. She hesitates for just a moment and then nods her head in thanks.
We get back in the truck and head down the mountain towards Somes Bar. As we round the last bend in the road we see that the bridges indeed are out over the Klamath and the Salmon Rivers. The two rivers join together below Ishi Pishi Falls. We see far below us the river guide Frank ferrying a couple of people towards us. I get out of truck and Roger joins me. We spend a half an hour catching up with Frank.
He reports that the tsunami brought debris up to about a mile down river from the junction of the Klamath and Salmon rivers. And that late last night the Iron Gate dam dumped it’s water load and the river crested at about 7 this morning. The bridges were damaged by the aftershocks and when the biggest aftershock hit this morning they crumpled into the rivers. He told us who had checked in at the store and who had not.
Marshall had not. I took a deep breath hoping Marshall was unaware of the situation and was at our cabin milling wood.
Roger said, “Well I am heading back to my place and then down to Orleans. I will see you in a week?”
I tell him, “Yes, I will be back in a week.” He replied, “God Bless you and you are in my prayers.”
I ask Frank, “Are you charging for the ferry?”
He replies, “Heck no, climb aboard.”
We cross the Klamath and I hike up to the road. As I look back towards the river I see the scoured hillsides and a couple of landslides which have changed the course of the river. There is a big rig caught up in some rubble on the far side of the Klamath.
I walk up a half-mile and get to the store. There are 9 rigs parked in front of the store. I don’t see Marshall’s rig. Sitting outside the store are the regulars drinking beer and smoking. They look up at me and say hello.
I go into the tiny store and see the owner Dave behind the counter.
He says, “Hey Sis, you made it. Marshall was in here yesterday mid day. He said he was heading up to the cabin. Is it as bad as they say down in Orleans?” I recap for him my last two days and he offers me a cup of coffee.
I take the coffee outside and sit on the bench. As I silently sip the coffee I listen in to the conversations around me. There is talk of the FEMA curfew, the refugee camp in Happy Camp, and folks asking who was alive and who has not yet been found.
Seems that the school in Somes Bar slipped down about ten feet towards the Klamath. It had been built on a sliding slab of concrete due to its location on an ancient landslide.
The two portable classrooms put in four years ago made it all the way to the river. Thank God the classes had been moved into the new school the month before. The teachers and students were fine.
A mini shelter had been established for the kids who could not make it home due to additional landslides on the Salmon River Road and up highway 96. Locals were running the shelter and did not seek FEMA help. The school had long been run on a generator and had propane freezers and refrigerators. They also had a great solar panel array.
I went back into the store and asked Dave how far the road was open up river. He pulled out a map and showed me the spots were the road had slides and he said that the first bridge was partially collapsed. He said that folks were parking on either side of it and crossing the river on the pieces of bridge, which had fallen but were stable for foot traffic. I wrote a note for Marshall and Dave put it in our mailbox. Then I began the long walk home. I figured I could make it by nightfall if I kept a steady pass.
I said good by then started my walk. A few minutes later Kara, Dave’s wife pulls up beside me in her Four Runner.
“Hop in I can get you as far as the bridge.” She said.
“Great, do want some money?” I replied.
“Goodness no. Marshall is going to be worried and we want you home sooner than later.” She said.
The next 13 miles of my journey took about an hour due to the debris on the road. She let me off right at the bridge. She walked with me down to the broken remains and showed me where the locals had made bright yellow marks showing the path across the rubble. She cautioned me to watch the river level as it was going up and down a lot. With big hug she sent me on the way.
Now I not one to be too afraid of heights, but as I made my way across the broken bridge pieces I could feel the power of the river shifting the huge concrete slabs. The way was clearly marked and after I made it across I sighed a huge sigh of relief. As I made my way up the side of the hill towards the roadway I noticed a blaze orange message painted on the highway.
It said. Ghost Dancer, at cabin. Sis, come home.
I started to cry, realizing that my man had made it. He was alive.
Siskiyou Islands Chapter 6
By now it was late afternoon when I started walking the miles towards up the highway towards our turnoff. The next bridge crossing was much the same. I followed the yellow markings on the debris and made it across the river just find.
My going was slower than I realized. As the sun started going behind the mountains I spotted a good spot to spend the night.
I hiked a ways off the highway, found a small clearing in the trees and set up camp. I pulled out my little butane stove and heated up the left over dinner from last night. Made some tea, rolled out the sleeping bag, crawled into it and put the shotgun with in reach. With in minutes I was fast asleep.
As the day dawned cold I got up, packed up and began my journey. Around 9 I got to the turn off for our road. As I looked up it I saw numerous trees had fallen and blocked the forest service road. On one of the fallen oaks I saw blaze orange. As hiked towards it I was able to read the message “Use alt. better than rd. GD)
I went back down the road to the highway and walked another three miles to the roadside spring.
The spring had been used for the past 30 or so years by locals for fresh water and filling up over heated radiators.
There was a small rock box with a pipe running from it dripping water. I filled up my water bottles and then went another ¼ mile past it to a deer trail. On the highway was an orange star painted. So Marshall had been here as well. I looked up and down the highway, seeing no one I went past the deer trail and found our trail hidden twenty feet past the deer trail.
I climbed the steep slope and began my ascent towards Eyesee Two Creeks and home.
About five yards up the trail I stopped and put on the snowshoes. I am so grateful Johnny passed them onto me. It was slow going up the ½ mile of trail to our bottom gardens. As I near the place I hear the mobile dimensional mill and am comforted to know that Marshall aka Ghost Dancer is keeping busy waiting for my return.
Over the years he had gone from being skeptical of my efforts at preparedness to appreciating them.
Post y2k I had to keep reminding him of how prudent it was to put by a few extra cans of food, fuel stabilizer, gas, seed etc.
When we bought our little piece of heaven here in the Siskiyou Mountains ten years ago we never knew if we would actually be able to live here full time.
In the first two years after we had the place we were ripped off twice. The thieves had cut trees to get around our gates the first go around. So we reinforced the gate and extended a fence on each side of the gates to prevent the off road vehicles from driving around the gate.
We did not keep anything of value there after a second theft resulted in the floor of the cabin being stolen. We discovered late one Thanksgiving evening when we arrived after midnight that the cable gate was cut. And to add insult to injury we opened the door and Ghost walked in and fell through the floor! The jerks also took the shower, kitchen sink, wood stove, wood cook stove and all the Metalbestos stove pipe they could reach. After that we decided to wait on leaving loose building materials and such at the place.
Over time we let it be known that any all unwanted folks would be harshly dealt with. Our nearest neighbors two miles down the forest service from our road would keep an eye out for when our first gate was opened. That only happened once. The neighbor drove down our long road and discovered it was forest service employees doing a timber cruise. We share ¾ of the road with the forest service.
Once all the good stuff was stolen and nothing was left to be had the local meth freaks stopped showing up. Plus the reinforced gates deterred anyone who did not want to hike in a long, long way.
For the next seven years we slowly developed the property. First Ghost put in water lines from our spring box high up the slope from the cabin. Our biggest problem was bears tearing up the 50-gallon plastic olive container and biting into the water lines. Over time he hauled concrete up to improve the intake and he trenched the water line. Seems bears think there are bees in the water line due to the sound the water makes flowing through the pipe.
Next Ghost concentrated on getting the floor laid. First he insulated the under floor and used recycled paneling to seal the floor from varmints. He is the ultimate in recyclers. As a laborer he always would ask for the “trash” from any construction job he worked on. In addition he worked for a few years for a gourmet lumberyard that marketed expensive imported hardwoods. Each load would have pieces of junk paneling to protect the good wood. He would dutifully haul away the trash. His employer loved the savings in not having to trash the panels.
All this time I would be away teaching and when ever Ghost was laid off from a union job he would be working on the place. Next he built custom forms for the posts of the cabin. The cabin had originally been built in the late 80’s by folks who were very poor. The posts were originally set directly on the ground. Not a good idea for wood and wet soil. He jacked up the cabin and leveled the floor. Three sides of the cabin were clad in roofing tarpaper. So he then sided the walls.
The interior floor was closed up with recycled 1-inch plywood he scavenged off a big hospital addition on the coast. It looked like a patchwork crazy quilt.
We painted the floor with a mixture of Thompson water seal and wood stain. Next we spent weekends putting in studs in the walls. It is amazing how far apart the studs were spaced. Some were 23 inches apart and some were 10 inches. The goal was to be able to eventually put up drywall. Ghost traded electrical and plumbing work with neighbors for his concrete and carpentry skills.
The biggest challenge was burning off the huge slash pile left over from a logging job on the place over 15 years earlier. It was covered in poison oak and full of rattle snakes. Took over four days to burn down. It sat within 20 feet of the cabin and we sort of hoped it would catch the cabin on fire and we would start from scratch.
So over the years the improvements were done through much sweat, a lot of home brew, and a bit of swearing. But the end result was magic.
At the house warming we had last fall the closest neighbors came and were astounded that the piece of junk cabin had been transformed into a snug home.
We ended up laying wood patterned linoleum in the first half of the cabin. Of course perfectionist Ghost laid it on the diagonal and all the guests thought it was real wood. He also put in a tiny bathroom with a tiled shower. 90% of the tile he had earned in trade when helping a rich friend finich off a show palace "homestead" near Boonville." His friend decided to move back to Arizonia and Ghost ended up with a trailer full of excellent tile and a cat called Mr. Spot the Dog. Seems the cat acted more like a dog than a cat and Ghost could not resist the trade of labor for materials and yet another cat to add to our brood.
He plumbed in the toilet. We did not have the money to actually put in a septic system yet, so we also dug an outhouse. And we still are still using a nifty grey-water waste system which drains into the ornamental shrubs.
My only concern was for the outhouse was that it had to be sealed enough to keep the snakes out. Ghost’s only concession was for me to have a honey pot kept (five gallon bucket with toliet seat) in the bathroom for nighttime use. When the snows hit I was very thankful for his concession.
We were not able to afford a large propane tank. So at the age of 60 Ghost was hauling propane tanks for our water heater and stove. Over the last year we had added many improvements and made hard choices on what to bring to the home place.
The priorities were medical gear, communication equipment, fuel, gardening tools, hunting equipment, and books. As a teacher and avid reader I love good relevant books.
As I enter the lower gardens I see that the green house has withstood the after shocks. Ghost is running the mill and does not see me coming up behind him. I notice he is carrying and also has his rifle close to the mill. I detour and make a huge arch so that I am in his field of vision. After he makes his last pass on the fir log I wave and yell “Hey!”
He looks ups, turns off the mill and reaches out to me.
He asks, “How did you make it out of Orleans. I was praying you were O.K., but I did not know if you were. The report from John (our nearest neighbor) said Orleans was lost!”
He has tears in his eyes and he gathers me into his arms. I breathe deeply the smell of fresh cut wood and mud. I look up into his brown eyes and I start to sob.
It takes me a lifetime to stop shaking and crying. He leads up the mountain to the cabin, opens the door and guides me to the rocking chair.
We hold tight and after awhile I tell him the story of the past few days.
“Well the s**t has hit the fan, huh? I thought the dirty bombs were hard enough to deal with. I am so thankful to God that you made it home. Did you see my messages?” Ghost asks in a calm tender voice.
Note: The dirty bombs were released earlier in the year in Las Vegas, Anaheim, San Francisco and other vital cities. See Big John story.
In December in one of my fits of “preparedness” I sat Ghost down and we made our contingency plan on communicating if the world went down the toilet. The prime concern he had was that I would be away at work from the homeplace. We decided that if something bad really happened, whoever was away from home would try to get home, and whoever was at home, would stay there three days and then come looking for the other.
I replied, “Yeah Honey I saw your notes. I promised Roger I will be back at the trailer in a week. I want to make sure folks on our road our O.K. and decided what we can haul gear from the trailer to the ferry point to shuttle here.”
Ghost said, “Well we are as set as we can be. I am totally shocked that a tsunami took out the coast. I want to try and reach my sister in Blue Lake. They may have made it to high ground before the wave.”
We decide to eat lunch and then go to the bottom garden and finish up the log he was milling. The cats wander down with us. When we are in the garden another after shock hits. It was weird watching the ground swell and roll like a shaken rug. The trees seemed to be screaming cries of anguish as the quake hit.
After we get up from the ground Ghost say, “Lets call it a day.”
We go back up to the cabin and check the wood stove flue, the propane connections, and the post and piers of the cabin. All are fine.
If there is one thing Ghost does, is to build over code on any project.
We make an early dinner and we sit by the fire. As we doze off a light rain begins to fall. We get up from the couch after nightfall and go upstairs to the loft to bed. As we snuggle we both quickly fall to sleep.
About 4 am a deafening roar wakes us up. We dress and go outside and discover that the gentle rain has turned into a monsoon.
The culvert on creek one is blocked and water is washing in a torrent towards the cabin.
We gather up the tools and flashlights and work at clearing the culvert. The snow that had stayed for so many months is quickly melting and the two creeks, which border our property, are roaring.
The pipe from our spring has blown out and next we repair that.
Our power is generated with the use of a Harris Wheel (similar to a Pelton wheel). I am grateful we purchased our batteries and got the whole thing set up in early February. We use a gasoline-powered generator for back up. Last Christmas instead of gifts to each other we invested in a Sun Frost Refrigerator. Cost over $2,000. but it has been well worth it. Prior to that we used ice chests.
We head back to bed bone tired and cold to the bone. We get out of bed at 8:30 make coffee and breakfast. I empty out my pack of the meats I had cooked and we slice them up and put them in the oven to jerk them.
I am thankful Ghost had gotten some eggs on his trip to the coast. He also had stocked up on some essentials and gas.
After breakfast Ghost tells me of his last couple of days. He made it home just fine then the first big after shocks hit. He figured I would be O.K. and set about inventorying our supplies and checking in with the few neighbors who did not commute to Orleans or Happy Camp for work. He also tried going down the forest service road to see its condition. He had to hike down the last three miles due to the downed trees. He laughed when he said he remembered the spray paint. He dutifully marked his way back home.
As the afternoon burned away we talked about how to contact our out of state family and we prayed for the safety of our daughter Rose who lived in Portland Oregon.
As the rain continued to fall we stoked the fire and went to bed with Sade playing on the CD player. I suddenly realized I had not had a cigarette in over three days. And I did not miss them one bit.
Resources:
http://www.sunfrost.com/
http://www.fords-mtm.com/hydro/harris.htm
There are dozens of sites for hydro electric systems. We got ours from a local fellow who got it directly from the original manufactuer in Santa Cruz California
As Thomas and I plod our way up the ridge the sun starts to weakly break through the second growth fir, the mighty madrone, the black oak and the cedar trees. This part of the forest was heavily logged back in the 60's and had grown back nicely.
The local fire safe crew had cleared the underbrush near Roses' place the year before so we had no trouble traversing over the hard packed snow. It was easy to follow the ridge line. Only a few times did we have to make a big detour from our course due to downed trees.
Thomas said, " Geeze, Mrs.H, I am sure glad you made us learn how to read topo maps in Science Class. You are so right about how the lines on the map match the terrain."
I don't reply. As a junior high teacher I have learned to savor the few ah ha's my students admit to in what I try and teach them. Actually I think I have learned from them more than they from me.
I glance down at my watch. Duh, it is not working due to being soaked with water. I take it off and put in the small zippered pocket on my pack. I look down at my left hand. My wedding ring is still there. I think of my dear husband. Hoping he had come back early yesterday from the coast and missed being swept away by the tsunami.
I prayed a deep prayer of thanksgiving to be alive, and thanks that some of my beloved community made it through the last 24 hours. As my tear sflowed my footsteps slowed. I dropped to my knees and Thomas kept going.
I asked my Father God to give me the strength needed to make home and to guide Thomas to his family. I got up and had to quick step it to try and catch up with him.
I stumbled and fell sideways off the trail. The shock of falling on my face into the cold packed snow stunned me. I heard Keith yell, "Mrs. H, you O.K.?" The terror in his voice was like a sharp slap to my already hurting face.
I rolled over, got to my knees and yelled up to him, "Yeah, no need for bandaids!" He scurried down toward me and put out his hand. I grabbed it and he helped pull me to my feet. He said, "Don't mean to be rude but man or man are you heavy." I laughed and went on our way.
By mid-day we made it to Bark Shanty. As we stepped onto the pavement we heard "Halt, who goes there!" I recognized the voice. It was Roger my neighbor.
Now Roger is a character of great depth, intensity, compassion and wisdom. But looking into the barrel of his shotgun I knew I had to quickly answer him. At 74 his hearing was not too great. As a Seventh Day Adventist I knew he would not want to kill us. But as the patriarch of his family, he just might put his non-violence aside. Over the years he had dealt with the scum of the earth who come out to our mountains to escape the city and be the tough guy.
I yell out, "Hey Roger, its me Sis!" "Oh, so it is. Did not recognize you in that get up you are wearing." "Come on up and I'll give you lift to your place. Whose runt do you got there?"
Thomas had stepped behind me when he first heard Roger's hail. Thomas stepped out from behind me and said, "I am Thomas one of Mrs. H's students."
He offered his hand out to shake Roger's hand. Roger shook his hand and said, "We have had a few jerks come up the road in the past day trying to rip us off. Don't know who they were, but they are fertilizing the garden now. We were hoping to head down later today to town to see if we can be of help. But we wanted to wait another day after dealing with the folks who snuck in early this morning."
I asked him if his family was O.K.? He said, "Well, the wife and in laws were on the coast. We haven't heard from them yet." We got into his truck and he started the engine. He said the radio reports were bad. The only station they were picking up were from Redding and KGO in San Francisco. It seems that the quake had wide spread damage up and down the California coast.
He reported that in addition to our subduction zone quake, there was also a 8.9 on the northern and southern ends of the San Andreas. The San Leandro fault line had wiped out the east bay areas of Alameda, San Leandro, Hayward, Berkely, Oakland and that most of Contra Costa county was dealing with major loss of life and damage.
Roger said, " You know Sis, as a believer I knew we should be ready for the mountians to fall down and they have. Barry Summit and Lord Ellis have collapsed. We are totally cut off from the coast. FEMA is putting out information on the death toll state wide and we are the last of the officials concerns. I am hoping to see my family again, but I don't think I will until the day of glory."
I silently nod my head as we wind our way up Thunder Mountain. I ask Roger "Have you seen my man?" He replies, "I saw him drive in this morning and then he headed out again. Maybe he is at your place on Eyesee Two Creeks?" I shake my head and begin to pray again silently.
We get to Rogers place, get out of the truck and I give him a big hug. I told him that I would check in with him before I head out the next day. He asks if we have enough food at the trailer. I say yes, and ask him if he has a spare back pack.
We go into his house, he leads us to his pantry in the basement. He opens a locked door and hands us two newer internal frame packs. The he hands us two sleeping bags, ground cloths, flash light head lamps, a zip lock bag with extra batteries and a hand held CB radio.
He advises us on the road conditions to Somes Bar. He tells us of that Happy Camp is faring pretty well. As he speaks the concrete floor beneath me heaves up and I hit the low ceiling with my head!
A big after shock or new virgin quake!! Roger is also stunned from hitting his head on the ceiling. Thomas is shaken but has no injuries. Roger says, "Man, I don't know if I can take any more blows to my noggin." He cracks a grin, gets up, helps me up and we start picking up the supplies that have tumbled off the shelf. He tosses into the packs some bags of dehydrated veggies. We carry the packs up the stairs and at the landing we look out over his place.
Through the huge window in his living room we see a peaceful scene. Then an after shock hits and his window explodes out. In the garden area in front of the window we see a gush of water.
Roger exclaimed, "Wow, the water witch was right. There is a spring there!" Four years before he had his property surveyed by a water witch. Roger had spent over $400 trying to drill a well in the very spot the gyser was now gushing. "Well, I guess I better set to work diverting the flow away from the house. We walk out together and Thomas and I start crossing the garden towards my trailer. I live a short walk from Roger's place.
As we go through the back way I look hopefully for sign of smoke coming from the wood stove pipe. I see none. We approach the trailer and I see that my husbands truck is not in the driveway. We go to the door, unlock it and step in. The house is cold. I tell Thomas to go start a fire in the stove while I check in on my land lords next door.
There truck is gone, their dogs are barking, there is food in the dog dishes. I am hopeful they will be back. Maybe they were checking on other folks in the area.
I walk back to the trailer and I find Thomas wandering around my living room looking at my family pictures on the wall.
He looks up and says, "Mrs. H, I am too tired to keep walking today. May I stay the night?" "Of course," I reply. "But first we eat, then find you some more warm gear O.K.?" "Sure, he replies."
I go into the spare room and start pulling out into the living room duffle bags. I pull out jeans, thermals, wool socks, shirts and a Thermalite jacket of my husbands. I tell Thomas to put them in gallon zip lock bags. I toss the boxes of bags to him and he gives me an odd look. I go back to the spare room and into the bathroom. I come back with toothpaste, floss, a new brush, a comb, two rolls of t.p., more batteries, a first aide kit, a hand held CB radio and toss them towards him. He gives me an even odder look. He silently starts to add the items to the back pack.
I go to my bedroom, I unlock the gun safe and pull out a holster and a 45. I carry those out to him and tell him to try on the holster and to check the gun for bullets. I know it is empty, but I want to see how he handles the gun. I go back to my room and pull out ammo. I bring that to him. He says, "Geeze, I always thought you were pulling our leg when you said you loved guns!".
I ask him if he knows how to use and clean a handgun. He replies of course. I go back and get the spare compact cleaning kit and give it to him.
Then as he continues to pack I go to my porch pantry and open the freezer door of my fridge. I take out all the salmon, chicken and beef. I go to the kitchen and prepare the salmon and chicken to bake in the oven, and the stove top I start to make spaghetti sauce. I steam up the fresh veggies in the fridge and heat up the left over rice from dinner two nights ago. I serve up the sauce and the rice and let the rest cool down before I bag them up for our journey.
After eating I set up pad for Thomas to sleep on near the wood stove. I light the oil lamps and turn on the battery operated CD and play a soothing Lakota flute CD. The sun has set and the fire is going and I am bone tired. I head to my room and go to sleep. I decide that we will wait a day another night before we head north. I want to inventory what we can use from the trailer and I want to show Thomas where my caches are outside the trailer. I also want to add to them before I leave. I have no idea if and when I will return to Thunder Mountain. Thomas has a journey of over 55 miles and I one of 23 miles. As I rest my eyes, lying under my cold blankets I automatically reach over to turn on the AM radio to listen to Coast to Coast with George Norrie or Art Bell. Dang, without power I can't use my radio. Oh well. I bet George and Art are having a good show tonight on the recent Earth changes
Siskiyou Islands Chapter 5
The sun is blazing through my bedroom window and I roll over ready for my morning hug from Marshall. I suddenly realize he is not there. I look at the battery-operated clock and see it is 10 o’clock. Man, I have not slept in till 10 in years! My body is aching. I hear Thomas in the bathroom flushing the toilet. An aftershock hits. The trailer is rocking up and down and my bed dances across the floor.
“Ah!” screams Keith.
“Hold on!” I yell.
The trailer stops its rocking and rolling. I smell propane gas. I jump out of bed, run into Thomas in the hall.
I tell him, “Quick, grab your gear and meet me outside.”
I grab my pack, shove my feet into my boots, and run outside. The trailer is leaning off its front posts. The enclosed porch has split off from the trailer and is dangerously teetering towards collapse. I toss my gear into the carport and go to the propane tank. I shut off the valve to the trailer and unhook the piping. Thomas is standing there shell shocked in his thermal underwear holding his pack.
I tell him “Follow me.”
We go back in and I direct Thomas to finish dressing, get his gun and to start emptying out the kitchen of all the food he can carry. He takes the food to the carport. I use the fire extinguisher by the wood stove to put out the coals from last night’s fire. The flue had separated from the ceiling. I open the windows to allow the propane fumes to escape. I pull the cook stove from the wall and turn off the inlet valve. Then I methodically empty out the gun safe. I put all the weapons into an old chest freezer in the carport. We stack all the canning jars and cans of food, and five-gallon buckets of grain on top of the guns. I direct Thomas to place the cans of recycling and garbage around the freezer to make it look like a junk pile.
We go back into the trailer and empty out the stored tp, soap, and oil lamps. I figure if the trailer burns or continues down the steep mountainside at least I will be able to come back and salvage from the carport.
The last thing I grab out of the porch is a can of logging paint, blaze orange. I spray paint the date, time and OK I am on my way in 4 foot high letters on the outside wall of the trailer. I do the same on the side of the propane tank.
Thomas and I gather up our packs and head to my landlords. The house is still empty. The quake caused little damage. I smell propane and go and turn off the tank to the house.
I spray paint the same message as before on the woodshed and let the dogs off their leads. I pour out some dog chow for the dogs.
Then I remember we left the snowshoes at the trailer. We hike back up and Thomas goes into the porch to get them. By now the porch is very dangerously moaning and leaning further out from the trailer. When he gets out of the porch we start walking towards Roger’s place and we hear the porch collapsing in our wake. It takes about ten minutes to get to Roger’s. Part of his house has collapsed and we call out to him.
He comes around the backside of his house and says, “Good to see you are O.K.” He too has emptied out his house of important gear. He is setting up a huge tent in the yard. We hear a helicopter and look up to see an Army green helicopter coming towards us.
Roger’s field is designated as an official site for Mercy Air, the medical evacuation service out of Redding. We watch the copter land and a National Guardsman comes out of it and to us.
He asks, “Who are you and do you want to be evacuated to Happy Camp?”
I ask him, “Are you asking or telling?”
He replies, “Happy Camp Refugee site is set up and running and we are supposed to “ask”, but if you are O.K. it might be best to stay put.”
He notices that all three of us are armed.
He says, “No weapons are allowed and all gear brought in is inventoried and then put in a common supply for all the residents to share.”
I ask him, “What if you don’t actually see the weapons?”
He replies that, “lately my vision is a bit low and that certain concealed weapons won’t be noticed, especially if he drops folks off outside of town.”
I take Thomas aside and tell him to think long and hard about what he wants to do.
Thomas says, “I would like a ride to the outside of town please. My Mom’s place is near the dump on Elk Creek Road.”
The guardsman replied, “ Well I can get you to the landing site 3 miles up Elk Creek. The Iron Gate Dam burst and the low-lying areas are flooded. There are parts of Highway 96 underwater and almost all the bridges are gone. The FEMA folks are hard pressed to give any real help and if you think your family is home it would be better for you to go there than the camp. Most people in the camp are travelers from out of town who got stuck after the first quakes.”
He proceeds to grill us about the situation in Orleans. He did a fly by and saw the devastation. The only people he picked up above town were a couple of long haul truck drivers stuck on the highway above the high water. I tell him what happened at the school and he said there were at least 50 people in Orleans who were organizing search and rescue and that the folks left alive wanted to stay in their homes.
He said that the Cascadian Subduction Zone had indeed experienced a huge quake. Most of the coastal area was still suffering from aftershocks and that the Mad River Bluffs outside of Willow Creek were experiencing multiple small quakes. He said that after this fly by the guard would not be coming back for at least a week. It seems that there were dangerous cracks in the dams at Whiskeytown and Shasta lakes and that Redding was being evacuated. He said the middle part of the state was also experiencing quakes as well. Mt. Lassen had begun to show signs of activity and was billowing smoke ash eastwards.
Roger and I both decided not to go with him.
The guardsman asked, “May I have your names and do you wish for me to contact someone for you?
Roger and I gave him out of state contact numbers.
Then the guard said, “ There are people at Somes Bar Store who are ferrying folks across the Klamath and there is a bulletin board up for contact information.”
He and Thomas got in the copter and left flying north towards Happy Camp.
“Roger, I am going to go to the cabin. I left a message for Marshall and I did not see Carol or Jim. I fed the dogs and unhooked the propane. I will be back in 7 days to check on you. Do you want any help before I go?”
“Naw, I got all I need out of the house and the garage seems to be O.K. I am going to drive down to Mark’s place to check on Sara and the kids. Want a ride down the hill?”
“Sure do and thanks for the gear.”
He laughs and says, “No problem Sis.”
We get in his rig and drive three miles down the road and come across a big black oak that has blocked the road. Roger got out his chainsaw and bucked it up while I pulled slash. We get back in the rig and drive a bit more. At Mark’s driveway there is another tree down and we methodically clear the drive. As we go up the drive we can see smoke from the wood stove and the kids in the yards setting up a tent. The house looks stable to us from a distance but as we get closer we see that it has jumped its foundation.
Sara comes out of the tool shed and gives us a big smile. She says, “Hey there folks. How is it going?”
I tell her about the last two days. She frowns and says she has had her radio off and was not too concerned about the quakes. Her husband was up river at Happy Camp teaching school and she thought he’d make it home with in a day or two. Her phone line was down. Her house had hydroelectric power and both a wood cook and heating stove. She has her twin 10-month-old baby boys in a playpen in the yard. Her 6 year old daughter an another neighbors 10 year old daughter and 9 year old son were staying overnight when the big quake hit. Their folks had gone to the coast for a date night. Sara gets a somber look on her face when she hears about the tsunami and damage to the coastal towns. Her place is high above the river and she had no idea about the wash of water that had come up river to Orleans. Being raised in Southern California she had expereinced big quakes before and really thought nothing major had happened statewide.
Roger asks her about provisions. She said she was well situated and that no one had come by her place yet. She asks us to pull slash back across the road on our way out to deter anyone not welcome from coming up her drive. Roger reaches into his truck and hands her a shot gun and shells. She hesitates for just a moment and then nods her head in thanks.
We get back in the truck and head down the mountain towards Somes Bar. As we round the last bend in the road we see that the bridges indeed are out over the Klamath and the Salmon Rivers. The two rivers join together below Ishi Pishi Falls. We see far below us the river guide Frank ferrying a couple of people towards us. I get out of truck and Roger joins me. We spend a half an hour catching up with Frank.
He reports that the tsunami brought debris up to about a mile down river from the junction of the Klamath and Salmon rivers. And that late last night the Iron Gate dam dumped it’s water load and the river crested at about 7 this morning. The bridges were damaged by the aftershocks and when the biggest aftershock hit this morning they crumpled into the rivers. He told us who had checked in at the store and who had not.
Marshall had not. I took a deep breath hoping Marshall was unaware of the situation and was at our cabin milling wood.
Roger said, “Well I am heading back to my place and then down to Orleans. I will see you in a week?”
I tell him, “Yes, I will be back in a week.” He replied, “God Bless you and you are in my prayers.”
I ask Frank, “Are you charging for the ferry?”
He replies, “Heck no, climb aboard.”
We cross the Klamath and I hike up to the road. As I look back towards the river I see the scoured hillsides and a couple of landslides which have changed the course of the river. There is a big rig caught up in some rubble on the far side of the Klamath.
I walk up a half-mile and get to the store. There are 9 rigs parked in front of the store. I don’t see Marshall’s rig. Sitting outside the store are the regulars drinking beer and smoking. They look up at me and say hello.
I go into the tiny store and see the owner Dave behind the counter.
He says, “Hey Sis, you made it. Marshall was in here yesterday mid day. He said he was heading up to the cabin. Is it as bad as they say down in Orleans?” I recap for him my last two days and he offers me a cup of coffee.
I take the coffee outside and sit on the bench. As I silently sip the coffee I listen in to the conversations around me. There is talk of the FEMA curfew, the refugee camp in Happy Camp, and folks asking who was alive and who has not yet been found.
Seems that the school in Somes Bar slipped down about ten feet towards the Klamath. It had been built on a sliding slab of concrete due to its location on an ancient landslide.
The two portable classrooms put in four years ago made it all the way to the river. Thank God the classes had been moved into the new school the month before. The teachers and students were fine.
A mini shelter had been established for the kids who could not make it home due to additional landslides on the Salmon River Road and up highway 96. Locals were running the shelter and did not seek FEMA help. The school had long been run on a generator and had propane freezers and refrigerators. They also had a great solar panel array.
I went back into the store and asked Dave how far the road was open up river. He pulled out a map and showed me the spots were the road had slides and he said that the first bridge was partially collapsed. He said that folks were parking on either side of it and crossing the river on the pieces of bridge, which had fallen but were stable for foot traffic. I wrote a note for Marshall and Dave put it in our mailbox. Then I began the long walk home. I figured I could make it by nightfall if I kept a steady pass.
I said good by then started my walk. A few minutes later Kara, Dave’s wife pulls up beside me in her Four Runner.
“Hop in I can get you as far as the bridge.” She said.
“Great, do want some money?” I replied.
“Goodness no. Marshall is going to be worried and we want you home sooner than later.” She said.
The next 13 miles of my journey took about an hour due to the debris on the road. She let me off right at the bridge. She walked with me down to the broken remains and showed me where the locals had made bright yellow marks showing the path across the rubble. She cautioned me to watch the river level as it was going up and down a lot. With big hug she sent me on the way.
Now I not one to be too afraid of heights, but as I made my way across the broken bridge pieces I could feel the power of the river shifting the huge concrete slabs. The way was clearly marked and after I made it across I sighed a huge sigh of relief. As I made my way up the side of the hill towards the roadway I noticed a blaze orange message painted on the highway.
It said. Ghost Dancer, at cabin. Sis, come home.
I started to cry, realizing that my man had made it. He was alive.
Siskiyou Islands Chapter 6
By now it was late afternoon when I started walking the miles towards up the highway towards our turnoff. The next bridge crossing was much the same. I followed the yellow markings on the debris and made it across the river just find.
My going was slower than I realized. As the sun started going behind the mountains I spotted a good spot to spend the night.
I hiked a ways off the highway, found a small clearing in the trees and set up camp. I pulled out my little butane stove and heated up the left over dinner from last night. Made some tea, rolled out the sleeping bag, crawled into it and put the shotgun with in reach. With in minutes I was fast asleep.
As the day dawned cold I got up, packed up and began my journey. Around 9 I got to the turn off for our road. As I looked up it I saw numerous trees had fallen and blocked the forest service road. On one of the fallen oaks I saw blaze orange. As hiked towards it I was able to read the message “Use alt. better than rd. GD)
I went back down the road to the highway and walked another three miles to the roadside spring.
The spring had been used for the past 30 or so years by locals for fresh water and filling up over heated radiators.
There was a small rock box with a pipe running from it dripping water. I filled up my water bottles and then went another ¼ mile past it to a deer trail. On the highway was an orange star painted. So Marshall had been here as well. I looked up and down the highway, seeing no one I went past the deer trail and found our trail hidden twenty feet past the deer trail.
I climbed the steep slope and began my ascent towards Eyesee Two Creeks and home.
About five yards up the trail I stopped and put on the snowshoes. I am so grateful Johnny passed them onto me. It was slow going up the ½ mile of trail to our bottom gardens. As I near the place I hear the mobile dimensional mill and am comforted to know that Marshall aka Ghost Dancer is keeping busy waiting for my return.
Over the years he had gone from being skeptical of my efforts at preparedness to appreciating them.
Post y2k I had to keep reminding him of how prudent it was to put by a few extra cans of food, fuel stabilizer, gas, seed etc.
When we bought our little piece of heaven here in the Siskiyou Mountains ten years ago we never knew if we would actually be able to live here full time.
In the first two years after we had the place we were ripped off twice. The thieves had cut trees to get around our gates the first go around. So we reinforced the gate and extended a fence on each side of the gates to prevent the off road vehicles from driving around the gate.
We did not keep anything of value there after a second theft resulted in the floor of the cabin being stolen. We discovered late one Thanksgiving evening when we arrived after midnight that the cable gate was cut. And to add insult to injury we opened the door and Ghost walked in and fell through the floor! The jerks also took the shower, kitchen sink, wood stove, wood cook stove and all the Metalbestos stove pipe they could reach. After that we decided to wait on leaving loose building materials and such at the place.
Over time we let it be known that any all unwanted folks would be harshly dealt with. Our nearest neighbors two miles down the forest service from our road would keep an eye out for when our first gate was opened. That only happened once. The neighbor drove down our long road and discovered it was forest service employees doing a timber cruise. We share ¾ of the road with the forest service.
Once all the good stuff was stolen and nothing was left to be had the local meth freaks stopped showing up. Plus the reinforced gates deterred anyone who did not want to hike in a long, long way.
For the next seven years we slowly developed the property. First Ghost put in water lines from our spring box high up the slope from the cabin. Our biggest problem was bears tearing up the 50-gallon plastic olive container and biting into the water lines. Over time he hauled concrete up to improve the intake and he trenched the water line. Seems bears think there are bees in the water line due to the sound the water makes flowing through the pipe.
Next Ghost concentrated on getting the floor laid. First he insulated the under floor and used recycled paneling to seal the floor from varmints. He is the ultimate in recyclers. As a laborer he always would ask for the “trash” from any construction job he worked on. In addition he worked for a few years for a gourmet lumberyard that marketed expensive imported hardwoods. Each load would have pieces of junk paneling to protect the good wood. He would dutifully haul away the trash. His employer loved the savings in not having to trash the panels.
All this time I would be away teaching and when ever Ghost was laid off from a union job he would be working on the place. Next he built custom forms for the posts of the cabin. The cabin had originally been built in the late 80’s by folks who were very poor. The posts were originally set directly on the ground. Not a good idea for wood and wet soil. He jacked up the cabin and leveled the floor. Three sides of the cabin were clad in roofing tarpaper. So he then sided the walls.
The interior floor was closed up with recycled 1-inch plywood he scavenged off a big hospital addition on the coast. It looked like a patchwork crazy quilt.
We painted the floor with a mixture of Thompson water seal and wood stain. Next we spent weekends putting in studs in the walls. It is amazing how far apart the studs were spaced. Some were 23 inches apart and some were 10 inches. The goal was to be able to eventually put up drywall. Ghost traded electrical and plumbing work with neighbors for his concrete and carpentry skills.
The biggest challenge was burning off the huge slash pile left over from a logging job on the place over 15 years earlier. It was covered in poison oak and full of rattle snakes. Took over four days to burn down. It sat within 20 feet of the cabin and we sort of hoped it would catch the cabin on fire and we would start from scratch.
So over the years the improvements were done through much sweat, a lot of home brew, and a bit of swearing. But the end result was magic.
At the house warming we had last fall the closest neighbors came and were astounded that the piece of junk cabin had been transformed into a snug home.
We ended up laying wood patterned linoleum in the first half of the cabin. Of course perfectionist Ghost laid it on the diagonal and all the guests thought it was real wood. He also put in a tiny bathroom with a tiled shower. 90% of the tile he had earned in trade when helping a rich friend finich off a show palace "homestead" near Boonville." His friend decided to move back to Arizonia and Ghost ended up with a trailer full of excellent tile and a cat called Mr. Spot the Dog. Seems the cat acted more like a dog than a cat and Ghost could not resist the trade of labor for materials and yet another cat to add to our brood.
He plumbed in the toilet. We did not have the money to actually put in a septic system yet, so we also dug an outhouse. And we still are still using a nifty grey-water waste system which drains into the ornamental shrubs.
My only concern was for the outhouse was that it had to be sealed enough to keep the snakes out. Ghost’s only concession was for me to have a honey pot kept (five gallon bucket with toliet seat) in the bathroom for nighttime use. When the snows hit I was very thankful for his concession.
We were not able to afford a large propane tank. So at the age of 60 Ghost was hauling propane tanks for our water heater and stove. Over the last year we had added many improvements and made hard choices on what to bring to the home place.
The priorities were medical gear, communication equipment, fuel, gardening tools, hunting equipment, and books. As a teacher and avid reader I love good relevant books.
As I enter the lower gardens I see that the green house has withstood the after shocks. Ghost is running the mill and does not see me coming up behind him. I notice he is carrying and also has his rifle close to the mill. I detour and make a huge arch so that I am in his field of vision. After he makes his last pass on the fir log I wave and yell “Hey!”
He looks ups, turns off the mill and reaches out to me.
He asks, “How did you make it out of Orleans. I was praying you were O.K., but I did not know if you were. The report from John (our nearest neighbor) said Orleans was lost!”
He has tears in his eyes and he gathers me into his arms. I breathe deeply the smell of fresh cut wood and mud. I look up into his brown eyes and I start to sob.
It takes me a lifetime to stop shaking and crying. He leads up the mountain to the cabin, opens the door and guides me to the rocking chair.
We hold tight and after awhile I tell him the story of the past few days.
“Well the s**t has hit the fan, huh? I thought the dirty bombs were hard enough to deal with. I am so thankful to God that you made it home. Did you see my messages?” Ghost asks in a calm tender voice.
Note: The dirty bombs were released earlier in the year in Las Vegas, Anaheim, San Francisco and other vital cities. See Big John story.
In December in one of my fits of “preparedness” I sat Ghost down and we made our contingency plan on communicating if the world went down the toilet. The prime concern he had was that I would be away at work from the homeplace. We decided that if something bad really happened, whoever was away from home would try to get home, and whoever was at home, would stay there three days and then come looking for the other.
I replied, “Yeah Honey I saw your notes. I promised Roger I will be back at the trailer in a week. I want to make sure folks on our road our O.K. and decided what we can haul gear from the trailer to the ferry point to shuttle here.”
Ghost said, “Well we are as set as we can be. I am totally shocked that a tsunami took out the coast. I want to try and reach my sister in Blue Lake. They may have made it to high ground before the wave.”
We decide to eat lunch and then go to the bottom garden and finish up the log he was milling. The cats wander down with us. When we are in the garden another after shock hits. It was weird watching the ground swell and roll like a shaken rug. The trees seemed to be screaming cries of anguish as the quake hit.
After we get up from the ground Ghost say, “Lets call it a day.”
We go back up to the cabin and check the wood stove flue, the propane connections, and the post and piers of the cabin. All are fine.
If there is one thing Ghost does, is to build over code on any project.
We make an early dinner and we sit by the fire. As we doze off a light rain begins to fall. We get up from the couch after nightfall and go upstairs to the loft to bed. As we snuggle we both quickly fall to sleep.
About 4 am a deafening roar wakes us up. We dress and go outside and discover that the gentle rain has turned into a monsoon.
The culvert on creek one is blocked and water is washing in a torrent towards the cabin.
We gather up the tools and flashlights and work at clearing the culvert. The snow that had stayed for so many months is quickly melting and the two creeks, which border our property, are roaring.
The pipe from our spring has blown out and next we repair that.
Our power is generated with the use of a Harris Wheel (similar to a Pelton wheel). I am grateful we purchased our batteries and got the whole thing set up in early February. We use a gasoline-powered generator for back up. Last Christmas instead of gifts to each other we invested in a Sun Frost Refrigerator. Cost over $2,000. but it has been well worth it. Prior to that we used ice chests.
We head back to bed bone tired and cold to the bone. We get out of bed at 8:30 make coffee and breakfast. I empty out my pack of the meats I had cooked and we slice them up and put them in the oven to jerk them.
I am thankful Ghost had gotten some eggs on his trip to the coast. He also had stocked up on some essentials and gas.
After breakfast Ghost tells me of his last couple of days. He made it home just fine then the first big after shocks hit. He figured I would be O.K. and set about inventorying our supplies and checking in with the few neighbors who did not commute to Orleans or Happy Camp for work. He also tried going down the forest service road to see its condition. He had to hike down the last three miles due to the downed trees. He laughed when he said he remembered the spray paint. He dutifully marked his way back home.
As the afternoon burned away we talked about how to contact our out of state family and we prayed for the safety of our daughter Rose who lived in Portland Oregon.
As the rain continued to fall we stoked the fire and went to bed with Sade playing on the CD player. I suddenly realized I had not had a cigarette in over three days. And I did not miss them one bit.
Resources:
http://www.sunfrost.com/
http://www.fords-mtm.com/hydro/harris.htm
There are dozens of sites for hydro electric systems. We got ours from a local fellow who got it directly from the original manufactuer in Santa Cruz California