Cooking today for barbecue Saturday

Redway Fire Department Barbecue

I'm going to just keep adding to this post as the barbecue progresses. So don't think you've seen it all until I tell you. Or 'til the fat lady sings!

This is the kitchen crew simmering down the thirty-two gallons of sauce. From the back left is Jim Hoeffer, Pete Genolio with the canoe padle stirring the sauce. In the middle row left is Jayce Snodgrass and Aurora Studebaker. In the front row demoing the can opener is Kayla, she belongs to Aurora. She is a real sweety and a real handful, but she is actually a lot of help. The Kitchen crew also made three gallons of the chilli dry-rub that goes on the Buffalo and the beef.

Not shown is yours truly, Ernie. I was taking the picture. The rest of the crew was out back unloading the silt that we use to cover the pits. Tomorrow night I will be more responsible and take more pictures... that is if I can get people to stand still long enough.

The meat wrapping crew

The man in Burgundy shirt shirt in front is our former fire chief, Ed Brady, who now travels the world anywhere that he doesn't have to fly on a plane. The man with the spicy fingers is our current Fire Chief, Brian Anderson. The man standing beside him is Tom Willis. The man with the antique wrist watch is Jim Hoeffer. The man just beside him is Pete Genolio. The man with the tan hat is Patrick Dowd, of the world famous Dowd family. The man way in back with his hands in the victory vee is Vern Snodgrass. To the left of him in back is Scott Trombola. And last is the assistant chief, putting the final tie on a package of meat, Roger Ralsten.





Carnitas just dropped in the pan to sizzle!





The Chief's truck, and Our newest truck across the street Utility 5841

This is me, Ernie Branscomb, last Christmas. I'm the one in the middle. I just wanted to have my picture with the rest of the group.

Jeepers Creeepers!

The unreasonable fear of spiders is called “arachnophobia”, whereas the reasonable fear of snakes is called “common sense”. As you might guess I have a fear of snakes similar to touching a live electric wire, the first sight of one stops my heart for two or three beats.

The photo of the spider is totally gratuitous and was placed here just to creep out the people that are not afraid of snakes. You are welcome!

I understand that some people feel that same fear that I described, upon seeing a spider. I don’t react to seeing a spider. My only thought is to identify it and stay a respectful distance from it’s territory. And, if it interferes with my life, it gets whacked. Sorry, but that’s life in the fast lane, and some spiders just don’t survive.

But, all snakes have to leave my yard! Rattlesnakes would have to leave dead, and I will move anything else in a gentle fashion that doesn’t harm them. Otherwise, I imagine them sneaking into my house at night and slithering onto my bed, eating my dog, and causing all kinds of snaky mischief. So they have to go, far, far away!

I understand that some people don’t feel that way about snakes, and in fact, would welcome them into their yard. The thought gives me the Heeby-Geebies, the Jeepers Creeepers, The Willies, and the Shudders, if you get my drift.

But, Kaivalya asked this question, so I thought that I might pass it on to more reasonable people than myself.

Kaivalya Quote:
As a reptile-lover, I've been trying to relocate snakes into my garden. I'd rather have snakes than moles and mice eating my dinner!And I've got to give some props to rattlesnakes - they usually give you lots of warning before they attempt to bit you. A funny thing is happening in Texas were rattlesnake round-ups are popular; through the many years that rattlesnakes have been rounded up, it's easiest to catch the ones that like to rattle the most. Therefore, there are more and more rattlesnakes not inclined to rattle due to their genetic successfulness. So when I hear a rattle, I think of it as the snake letting me know it's there because it doesn't want to have to bite me.The Humboldt Herpetological Society has been considering putting together a reptile response line for a while now. The idea is that you could call 24/7 to get advice or have snakes relocated from your property. I'm pretty sure that I would be the only Southern Humboldt contingency, but that's better than nothing. I guess we've just been a bit cynical about potential use. What do you Think?
End Quote:::

I think it's creepy, but I realize that my perspective might be different from normal people.

This is where I'll be this week.

Well, I'm sorry. But it's like the man said: "This is the dues you pay for the life you get"

So, I'll be out paying my dues on my great life this week. This is the week of the Redway Fire Department Barbecue. Tuesday night we have a coordination meeting to make sure that everyone has done their job, and that we have all of our permits and licences. And, we worry about everything.

Wednesday night we make all the sauces and spices, and get the sand for the pits. And we worry about everything.

Thursday night we wrap the meat and have a carnitas and beer party. And we worry about everything.

Friday night we start the fire and have a pot luck dinner. We set up the dinner tables, and get all the serving stations set up. We store the trucks in other garages for the night. We place the meat in the pits and cover it. And we worry about everything.

Saturday morning we bring all the trucks back and put them on display, we un-dig the pits and grab a package of meat out and open it to check for doneness. Everybody says "Wow, this is going to be the best barbecue ever" and we stop worrying about everything!

We Serve from Noon 'til 7:00

And don't forget this is the same week that KMUD has their block party, so come have fun and wander back and forth and be part of both parties. There is no admission fee!

Lloyd Padon, Catskinner.

1957 Caterpillar D7 -17a. Called a "hot-rod 7" because it had so much more power that it's predecessor.

This is called a pony motor when it's being talked about politely. It starts the main engine when you can get it to run. It was the weak link in getting anything done with the dozer. The battery was usually dead or fried or broken from all the impacts that a Cat takes. So it usually had to be cranked by hand, by putting a crank on the rod that sticks up through the cover over the big engine.

Okay, it’s too hot to work, and Twizzie is over her AC vent, and I’m over mine.

My cousin Jim tells me that he runs into Lloyd Padon every now and then in Hiouchi/Crescent City . So, I’ll tell a story on him. Back in about 1963 I was setting chokers behind Lloyd in a canyon south of Lymon Jewetts place in Harris. He was punching a skid trail, with a 17a D7 Cat, up a steep little draw to some logs at the top. He shook loose a hornets nest and they flew at the Cat. They seek out heat, and the hottest thing around is the exhaust stack that comes out the top of the engine compartment. They hit like BB’s You can hear them hitting the metal just like pouring dried peas in a can.

Most Catskinners don’t want to take the chance of sticking around to see if they all hit the exhaust pipe. The hornets are, mean little, very active Son-of-a-guns in the heat. It only takes being stung two or three times to lose interest in fighting them. So, Lloyd threw the winch in gear, and set the winch brake. That will lock the transmission and tracks firmly in place and the Cat won’t move. That’s the theory. It works good if done right.

He then bailed off the Cat, swatting at the bee’s. He ran down the hill and stood by me, quietly congratulating himself, with a big grin on his face, that he didn’t get stung. As we stood there. It looked like the winch line was creeping out. We looked at each other, then looked back at the Cat, looked at each other again, and we both took off running up the hill as fast as we could toward the Cat. Just as we about got to it, the Cat took off back down the hill toward us, spooling the winch line out as it went. We didn’t take the time to look at each other this time we took off back down the hill making tracks like “Old Slew Foot“, at forty feet a leap.

We got behind a tree as the Cat passed us. It rolled down to a flat spot in the road and as it just about stopped we started breathing a huge sigh of relief, then it edged over the side of the bank. We started saying; “Oh shit, Oh shit Oh shit…..” It edged over the bank and darn near tipped over, but it righted itself again and headed down to the dry creek below. It hit the bottom and slowed down again, and we were just about to crap our pants with happiness that it was going to be okay, when it rolled up on the bank on the other side. It rolled up over a stump, it did a little pirouette like a ballet dancer on the drive gear, and it headed straight down a bald ridge about a hundred yards long.

I’ve never heard such a racket of noise in all of my life. The winch was screaming like a siren on a fire truck, and the tracks were clanking loudly. I remember when it started moving fast that the tracks ballooned out from centrifugal force, they were flying so high above the top idlers that they were hitting the cabin fender. Sparks were flying, and dirt and crap was flying everywhere. Again Lloyd and I were saying; “Oh shit, Oh shit, Oh shit….” it rolled down to the bottom of the ridge, through a gentle little swale and up the other side, still moving like a bat out of hell, it missed several big trees and stumps, and it slowed down to just about a complete stop when it started down the other side. It ran into some small pepperwood trees and it stopped right there on the top of the ridge like nothing had happened.

It took us about half an hour to get down to it. Weak kneed, and knowing full well that something must be badly broken. We inspected each and every part, and didn’t find anything wrong, so we pushed a few things with it and tried all the gears everything seemed to be fine. We went back up the hill and spooled the winch line back on, found a turn of logs and headed to the landing. I’m sure that our faces were as pale as ghosts under the dust, and we were expecting Roy Goforth to be standing there with our paychecks in his hand. As we pulled onto the landing, we didn’t see Roy anywhere. We pulled up next to the deck and as I was unhooking the chokers we noticed that both doors were open on Roy’s truck. That’s unusual, because people like to keep the dust out of the trucks as much as they can. I walked over to the truck and Roy was laying on his back across the seat, snoring like a bear.

If a tree falls in the woods, and no one is there to hear it, does it make a noise? Better yet, if a Cat runs away in the woods and the boss doesn’t hear it does it happen?… Hell no it didn’t. You owe me Lloyd.

Twizzle guarding the air-conditioner vent.

Caninus Doggus Domesticus Spoildus.

This is my dog Twizzle, guarding "Her" air-conditioning vent. When it's hot outside she will come in and stand in a four leg staddle over the vent to cool off. She will even push the chairs out of the way to get to it. She is not too happy with me in the picture because I made her stand in the light to get her photo.

She is a valuable watchdog, she is the only thing between us and the coon that sneaks in the doggie door at night to eat our faces off while we sleep. For this service she demands air-conditioning.

The fact that I put a new post up doesn't mean that we have to stop putting up those great catskinner and snake storries. This blog, and it's owner, are real loose. Just move your stories into here. I have a couple more myself.

This one's for Cousin Jim.

My cousin Jim just reminded me of a story that I had almost forgotten about. Back in 1962 I was the youngest man on the woods crew, and the “Kid” was always the target of any practical jokes. Jim said:
I love the old stories of our logging days. I found out in the 60's I couldn't live on unemployment and feed the bear dogs too. I have some stories that would be a "10" and good for polite company, however very few folks would understand now days.One comes to mind as I write. The old rattle snake in a flour bag. I laugh whenever I think about it. Two bags, one with jerky in it and one for you. LOL
Yeah, that was real funny. There's nothing quite as humorous as someone offering everybody on the landing a piece good old home smoked venison jerky. The stuff that everybody knows that I would kill for, then have the guy put it back in the Jeep without offering me some.
I didn’t know what to say: “Hey you forgot me”. Or “Um… Could I have some”. I was seriously and deeply pained that Bill hadn’t offered me any jerky, and my mouth was already watering for some. I remember just leaning back against the tree that I was sitting at while eating lunch. And just sitting there stunned, and trying to convince myself that loggers don’t cry.
Then he looks right at me and said; “Damn Ernie… didn’t you get any? I thought you were first”. Feeling instantly much better, as Bill jumped up, went back to the jeep and grabbed a white paper bag full of what I though was jerky. With a great big smile on my face as I dipped my hand in the bag to find a Damn dead, but still squirming, Rattle Snake. It’s head had been cut off but that didn’t make any difference to me. A snake is a snake.
About that time, Bill tipped the bag over so I could see in, and I damn near broke my arm getting my hand out of the bag. I remember feeling that damn snake still today. I remember not wanting to have anything to do with that hand with Rattle Snake Blood all over it. I rubbed it in the dust on the landing and was looking around for some water, when I came to my senses and realized that everybody on the landing was roaring with laughter. I said, “Good one Bill” then I went back to leaning against the tree and ate my sandwich dirt, snake blood and all. The rest of the day I had to put up with little snickers but at least I had the joy of making them wonder if they would eat a sandwich with snake blood all over it.
And the best part of the story is Bill gave me the rest of the bag of jerkey at quitting time. I was real careful to peak in first before I reached in the bag every time that I took out a piece, Like I thought that it would turn into a snake. You never really knew around Bill.

Canvas Water Bags.

How many people remember the old canvas water bags that were the mainstay of the logging woods operation?

When I worked in the woods we used to have canvas water bags that would hang from the back of the Cat canopy. Nothing tasted sweeter than fresh cool spring water from a canvas bag. We usually developed a spring in the woods operation where we were working, with a pipe that would trickle into a bucket that we could use to pour the bags full of water.

A well aged and sweet water bag was a precious item. They started out tasting like flax, which about like what a person would think that varnish would taste like. We would soak them in a running creek for about a week, then we would fill then with baking-soda and water and let then soak for another week, then we would flush them out a few times and start using them. Slowly the flax taste would fade away and it would become a valuable possession to the person that had it.

The canvas bag was preferred over the canteen because the bag stayed cool from the water that would seep through it and stay cool from the evaporation.

Working ten hour days in the woods would mean drinking at least a gallon a day. I’ve told people how much a hard working choker setter will drink in a days time and people don’t believe me, so I’ll just let it go as someone working a ten hour day in the summer sun drinks an unbelievable amount of water.

The water bag was hung right above the fuel tank on the Cat. It was the choker-setters job to fill the fuel tank, and he knew that getting even as much as a drop of fuel on the bag would bring the wrath of the whole crew down on him, no matter who’s bag it was, everyone would take a turn chewing him out. There is nothing more precious that fresh clean water to a woods crew, and trying to work your way around a ruined water bag was complicated.

Taking care of the bag was important!

Just copied off my weather link

15 May 1:48 pm
101 Degrees
48 Dew point
17 % Humidity.

And we have had two fire calls already, one controled burn, and one fire 3/4mile North of Phillipsville on the west side of the freeway into the power lines.

It looks like the frost is over and I can go ahead and plant my garden!

Oops! It just went to 103 deg. At 2:48.

104 at 3:48.

Barbecue

This is just a "Pre-last-call" reminder, I will be doing a whole post on the Barbecue later.

The barbecue is Saturday May 24th. 2008, at the Redway Fire Hall.

Cue the “Twilight Zone” theme.

On April 14th, 1561 the skies over Nuremberg, Germany were reportedly filled with a multitude of objects. Known as the "Nuremberg Event".

Link to the Nuremberg event

Okay, I know that the rest of you sometimes question your own sanity, and have seen things that you don’t talk about because it’s just too weird. Sometimes you get a good explanation and other times you don’t. Like when a few years ago I saw a Roadrunner run down the main street of Garberville, hop over the bank above the Bowling Alley parking lot, and hit the ground running off toward the river. I looked around to see if anyone else saw it, and I didn’t see a soul. So I thought; “This is something that I’m just going to keep to Myself.” And I did.

About a year later I was in a conversation about strange happenings, and a friend of mine said “You’re not going to believe this, but I saw a Roadrunner run through Garberville one time”. Of course, after that, I felt a lot better about my sanity. And cautiously admitted that I saw it too. I still have no idea how it got there, but I was satisfied that there must be an explanation, and at least there was one other witness.

Another time I was hunting on Red Mountain and I saw a Chinese Pheasant fly around the hill. After about a month or two I cautiously asked my hunting buddies if they had ever seen any pheasant on Red Mountain. They answered “nope”, but they had heard a story that the Fish and Game planting some up there a few years ago. Phew, dodged another bullet.

One night after a fire meeting, it was a bright clear winter sky and the stars were shining and sparkling, I always watch the sky at night and pick out the constellations, and I’m fascinated with the stars movement with the changing seasons. There is a beauty in the night sky that I always take the time to appreciate.

As we were leaving the meeting, I was standing outside talking to a fellow firefighter while I was staring at the black, diamond filled, sky. When I saw lights glittering almost straight up and half way off to the west. I watched them for a while and they would glitter in all the colors of the rainbow. The blue would glitter for a while then a yellow would glitter, then an orange, a green and a violet. Then I noticed that the violet glitter was always in the same spot, and all the other colors would glitter in their own respective spots. After watching them for a while and they weren’t moving, I asked the fellow standing with me to look at all the colors in the sky, and what did he think that they were. He glanced up and said “it’s an airplane” and he just starting to leave. I said “no wait, it can’t be, it’s the wrong colors, and it’s not flashing right, and they are all in the same spots.” he went on to leave, and I stood there and watched them another five or six minutes trying to figure it out. Finally I decided that they were going to be there for a while and I called the other guys out to witness my discovery. You guessed it, the minute that they stepped out there, they started to fade away. They didn’t see anything and I had to put up with all the ridicule; “Ernie sees Lights in the sky”, that I normally try to avoid.

Once you see something with your own eyes, you can’t help but believe it, so I set about trying to figure out what they were. They were as bright and distant as pin- pricks. They were all colors of the rainbow and they weren’t moving.

CLUE: rainbow. I found that when a clear cold front abuts a clear warm front it can cause an “Atmospheric Lens” that will distort normal starlight just like a prism would. Bingo, an explanation to what would have otherwise have bothered me to my dying day. I took great joy in chiding my fellow firefighters that they didn’t even know about “Atmospheric Lens”. What a bunch of ignoramuses. Atmospheric Lens, became my new favorite words. And, I got to see something that few people will ever see in their lifetime. I consider myself very privileged.

I have a friend that works for the state highways. One night north of Garberville, in the deep Redwood forest, he saw Bigfoot run across the road right in front of his truck. Of course he didn’t tell anybody, but soon it was eating on him, so he cautiously told his wife about it. She seemed to accept it okay, so he told a few of his closest friends about it, and as you might have expected he got the hardy-har-har horse laugh, and he stopped talking about it.

I have no idea what he saw, and if you’re going to talk about things like that you have to either prove them, or you get to be crazy until you do. So, be’ins I don’t know what he saw, I am quite content to think that he’s crazy. Hey, he’s the one that told on himself.

Okay, now here’s the sticker. I “feel” Earthquakes before they happen. Cue the “Twilight Zone”, start the horse laugh, giggle behind your hand, and have a round of mirth and merriment on me. Just remember, I get even.

Back before we had the series of three earthquakes back in 1992, I was working in the basement of the Benbow Inn and I kept getting this overbearing feeling that I shouldn’t be there. I remember looking around me and reassuring myself that I was perfectly safe and the building had already survived many severe north coast quakes. I put it out of my mind I remember thinking that it was strange that I hadn’t had that feeling before when I worked there. The next day we had the first of three severe earthquakes.

This strange feeling has come over me before, just previous to having earthquakes. But, this time it really made me take notice, I took the hazard of telling my wife about it; that I got a strange feeling before an earthquake. And she reassured me that I was okay by making a noise kinda’ like a horse makes when they blow through their lips, only with a small and wife mouth size noise. I didn’t become reassured.

Sometimes before and earthquake I get the same feeling of disconnectedness, where it feels like your footing isn’t quite solid, and you’re sure that if you look around you things will be swinging and moving but they are not. It’s totally weird. My wife says that it’s easy to prove, that all I have to do is tell her about it before it happens. So several times I’ve told her about them, then pointed out on television that there was an earthquake. She say’s; Well, sure, there’s an earthquake everyday somewhere”. Then other times I get that strange feeling, and it doesn’t pan out. It’s like when you hear a tree popping and cracking, and you know that it is going to fall, but you can’t say exactly say when. I feel something impending, but I’m not certain when.

By now, you are probably wondering what all this is leading up to. The other night, before the China quake, I walked over to the television and was checking the mounts that was holding it to the wall, and it occurred to me that I was feeling that feeling of an impending earthquake stronger than I’ve ever felt it before, and I told my wife. I didn’t tell her I have that feeling again. I told her flat out “There is going to be an earthquake”. The next morning I turned on the television and they were talking about an earthquake that had just happened in China. Her response was “Well there’s an earthquake somewhere all the time”.

I have heard that animals can sense that same feeling of impendingness, that they become restless for no reason just before an earthquake happens.

It is my opinion that there is something tangible that can be sensed before an earthquake. But, like my wife, who I have to agree with: what good does it do to know that there’s going to be an earthquake somewhere sometime? We already know that.

I’d be really relieved to find that I’m not the only one to think that they sense earthquakes. Maybe someone knows of a scientific explanation. Because, I’m big on science, and really weak on superstition. And, I don't like to think that I'm crazy

Sauced

A few posts back a fellow by the name of Frank suggested that I add some Worcestershire sauce to my "Oysters, South Fork Ernie"recipe, to add a little zest. If you've tasted my sauce you would probably know that it is plenty zesty. But, next Friday when the Aqua-Rodeo oyster people are at the local farmers market, I'm going to get some oysters and try adding a little "Wooster Sauce" to my sauce.

I’ve always liked Lea and Perrin’s Sauce, and I use it on a bunch of different things. You can make a very good steak sauce by mixing a little Lea and Perrin’s with a little catsup. It goes great in a tomato beer, it adds flavor to cheese dips. It is one of the main ingredients to the world famous Redway Fire Department Barbecue sauce. (The Barbeque will be held from noon ‘til 7:00 Sat. May 24th, Memorial day weekend. More later)

But, as a super-taster (Me) I’ve noticed that the Lea and Perrin's sauce is watered down from the recipe that they used years ago, and it takes more to bring the flavor out. At one time it was thicker and darker right out of the bottle, but now I have to simmer the sauces that I make with it quite a bit longer to reduce the sauce to it’s original flavor. I wonder if there is anyplace that a cook could get concentrated Lea and Perrin’s to save time?

There are other things that are not as good as it used to be. Remember when they made Del Monte Catsup, with real pineapple vinegar? Del Monte is just not the same. Also some soy sauces have been watered down. I'll bet that they thought that I wouldn't notice. Like boiling frogs, if you heat them slow enough they don't notice. Well I ain't no frog, and I noticed.

Have any of you noticed that some foods are just not as good as they used to be? The only thing that I know of that has improved dramatically is fresh corn on the cob. Which, by the way, is even tastier with butter and wooster sauce.

The end of Ripple Rock, the worlds largest non-nuclear explosion.

The worlds largest tides are found in the Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia on the Atlantic Ocean. The tide fills the Bay of Fundy from the entrance, it flows to the back of the bay, then sloshes back to the entrance just as the next tide is coming in. The interference of the tide going out meeting the tide coming in causes the water level to change as much as 52' (fifty-two Feet). It sloshes like a bath tub, and it is called the worlds largest bath tub.(Bay of Fundy link)

The Bay of Fundy is at about the same latitude as Alaska. That latitude is where the largest tidal effects take place. Ketchican, where my cousin Jim lived on his boat, has as much as a 24' (twenty-four foot) tidal change, with no bay to cause the sloshing action. South of Alaska along the coast of British Columbia, there is what is known as the inland passage to Alaska. The surge through the passage is one of the strongest ocean currents in the world. In the middle of this passage is a place called "Seymour Narrows" where the water swirls so strongly that it has been known to suck boats down into the abyss. Sailors dread the passage and even the largest ship has to wait for the right conditions to make a passage. (Seymour Narrows Link)

In the middle of those narrows was a rock called "Ripple Rock" That had two sharp peaks that stuck up to about nine feet below the surface. Just the right depth to gut even the mightiest ship. It sunk 119 ships and killed 114 people. On April 5th 1958 they blew the rock out of the water with the worlds largest non-nuclear explosion. Its' worth the time to load and watch the clip. To make it full screen click on the Snowflake looking symble in the lower right corner. It will go back to normal when it ends. The End of Ripple Rock

Oysters South Fork Ernie

I’m sitting here in Garberville next to the Farmers Market eating fat little oysters as I write this.

Oysters South Fork Ernie:
Six medium oysters placed on a glass pie dish, arranged like a six petal daisy, so they hold the liquid. Put them in a microwave oven for four to six minutes, or until they steam and pop open.

While they are cooking mix two tablespoons of “Fred’s” fresh ground horseradish with two tablespoons Weitchpec Chile Company “Klamath River Red” Pepper Sauce and two tablespoons fresh squeezed lemon. Stir and place on the table. There will be enough for about one teaspoon full for each oyster.

Remove the oysters and let them sit for five minutes, then pop the tops being careful not to spill the juice, drizzle a teaspoon full of sauce on the top then fork it into your mouth. Then sip the juice and sauce out of the shell, then dive for the next one.

When they are all gone go get some more and do the same thing. When you get full, hide all of the empty shells and then you can tell your wife “Honey I made you some oysters”. She will think that you are just the sweetest thing, and life is good!

This same recipe is better if you cook the oysters in an enclosed wood fired barbecue, but it is not as convenient for lunch.


Hey Ern, I didn't know how to add a picture to your blog but here is a shot from my deck with the tide starting to go out. All those things out there that look like rocks are oysters.
Hood Washington

Town Cars.

Robin Shelly said... "I don't know any of the Coombs family but somebody (my dad?) told me a story about Mal one time & how he used to drive a Cadillac car with the back seat removed so he could haul all his woods equipment (chain saw, gas, etc.) in it. Apparently, he drove it all over the hills & used it just like a pickup. Anybody remember that?"

Back in the fifties, the only road that had pavement was the 101 highway. Most of the logging roads were better maintained than the county roads. Often the loggers would build a section of road to bypass a particularly rough section of county road. Road traffic would start using the logging roads for regular traffic.

Both of the present day Alderpoint road and the Eel Rock road were built by loggers. I, ahem, had part in building both of those roads. I was the kid on the ground that changed the angle and tilt on the blade. Back when it was done manually, with jack screws on the blade braces. The fact that we had modern adjustable dozer blades was a big deal at the time, it was state-of-the-art equipment.

Previous to the modern Alderpoint route, a person had to go to Harris and turn back north to Alderpoint. The road from the top of the hill that goes straight down to Alderpoint was called the “Alderpoint cut-off". It was built by the loggers and lumber mill people.

It wasn't unusual to see a logging company straighten a corner or two on a weekend. Usually they would ask the ranchers that owned the land if it was okay to build roads through their lands. The answer was always "Sure, go ahead!" The ranchers looked forward to having roads on their land, it made their job easier, and increased the value of their land. Often the ranchers wouldn't allow loggers to pass through their land unless they improved the roads. The agreements were made about as fast as it took you to read this, and it was sealed with a handshake. Times have changed a little in the last fifty years haven't they?

Most of the Southern Humboldt, Northern Mendocino lumber barons drove Cadillac cars. Some drove Buick cars that Charles S. Howard made famous. Howard was a Buick dealer in San Francisco. He was popular because he stabled Sea Biscuit, the world famous race horse, in Willits. Howard also built the first modern hospital in Northern Mendocino. Howard was a very popular legend because of his fame with racing Sea Biscuit. Two loggers that I remember was Mal Coombs and Axle Erickson, that drove their Cadillac cars in the woods.

It wasn’t only difficult to keep a car nice, it was impossible. Some of the wealthy families kept cars that were only used on the highway 101 and in the cities. They were know as “Town Cars”.

Redwood Forrest Foundation: Usal Plan

Redwood forrest Foundation: Usal Plan

For all of you people that have been asking about Art Harwoods logging plan for the Usal Drainage, the link above will take you there.

With much thanks to Kim, who did a post on her memories of Usal.

"The Last Logger"

An anxiously awaited package finally showed up on the snail-mail express. A package that should have taken two days at the most, and maybe should have shown up overnight, took from April the 15th until April 22nd to get here. After searching our mail stacks high and low with guilt ridden embarrassment that we had probably carelessly lost a gift from hard and fast friend… It walks in the door and lands on our counter… “You got Mail”… A tale for another post for sure.

Now to the topic at hand, Ekovox sent me a CD copy of “Delta Nationals” latest new Disc, “All Over the Map” the song that he wanted me to listen to in particular was “The Last Logger Leaving Town”. He knows that I strongly identify with the lumber community, and would be interested in the saga of the loggers loading up and getting out of here.

They had me at “After a hundred years of logging”. They sang the saga of the proud busted logger moving outta’ here. The words to the song relate to terms that only a north-coaster would understand.

The logger-bar twang in the Guitar puts me back on that barstool in Briceland, my corks in my truck, and my Romeos on my feet wrapped around the rung on the bar stool. I can still feel the smile on my face. My beer in one hand, and my other hand carefully placed on the bar where it wouldn’t get in trouble with the other logger and mill workers pretty girl-friends and wives. But, they sure were pretty out there on the dance floor spinning around to “Hello Walls” and “Born to lose”. The joke on the song at the time was; “Born too loose”. I could relate to that.

I can still feel the dust in my clothes, the honest dirt on my skin, the parch in my throat from a hard ten-hour day in the place I loved. My dad beside me saying “Son you gotta’ get out of here, there ain’t no future in logging”. He never lied to me before, at least not on purpose. Most loggers will tell you any kind of a tall tale just to see if you swallow it, but you can tell when one is not trying to stretch the truth. There was a ring of truth in my dad’s voice that I couldn’t deny.

I did my best, I may be a refrigeration contractor now, but in my chest is the heart of a logger. I had just about put the logger in me behind, but one day about a year or so ago, I started nosing around the blog-sites. Eric Kirk did a post about a brand new blog called “299 Opine” by Ekovox. He talked about real people, with real jobs, that worked in real places. Most everybody signed their names, or at least you knew who they were. It was the kind of place that a person like me can relate to, so I was drawn to read it every day.

One time a while back Eko took a hiatus, he is prone to do that. Some how his blogsite turned into stories that talked about how it used to be when logging was a proud profession. I had already been playing with the idea that someone should write a book about logging in Garberville. I figured that I was the only one left around here that knew or appreciated the loggers that were here at the time, and if I was going to tell a story I would have to learn to write, so I started practicing by writing on the blogsites.

I was actually inspired by a good friend of mine that has zero respect for logging. Kim Sallaway is a great photographer that is a true artist. He can take a picture of a person that really can do what the Indians were afraid would happen, he captures the person’s soul.

I subscribe to his "Picture of the Day" posting where he sends out his favorite photograph for the day, every now and then he will make a disparaging comment about logging. I shake my head and think that I wish I could explain to him who a logger is. He just really never met one. We aren't the people that want to clear-cut and hurt the critters, and tear up the environment. We are people that can't work anywhere but outdoors or but with our hands and muscles. We like the smell of a sawmill or a woods operation. But, sometimes we are stuck with jumping through the hoops of the "Beerocrats and fat cats" that took it all from us with their corporate greed.

But, my friend Kim lives in a wood house, so I know that he must have some basis of understanding. I just don’t know how to approach the subject. I’m reminded of when I was a kid, my best friend at the time was Robin Brooks, He is the most devout religious person that I’ve ever known. I guess that I’m drawn to opposites. One time I asked why he never pressed me about religion, he said that he didn’t want to talk to me about religion because if he gave me the word of God and I rejected it I would have to go to hell, and he didn’t want that to happen to me. Now that’s a friend. I guess that I'll just have to get there with out his help. So, I guess that is why I never talk to Kim about Loggers. I don’t want to see him go to hell if I don’t get it right.

When I see a deck of logs, I see my family’s blood and sweat all over them, and when I see a load of lumber go by I see some young couple getting a new house to raise their babies.

Back to the CD. I said once before that music isn’t my life but it is the theme that is always playing in the background. Right now I have “The Last Logger Leaving Town” playing in the background.

I have the technology to put the songs on this blog, but you can take my word for it the album is a “must have”. It is an Eclectic compilation of tunes that showcases the “Delta Nationals” wide range of talent. It is great as a demo album of musical genres that they can handle. Their instrument talent is flawless, and if they don’t hit every note when they are singing it’s their inside joke to see if you are paying attention. If you look at the stage they will wink at you in appreciating that you got it.

Their music is about real people, the tune “Overtime” is one that anyone can relate to. This post has gone on long enough. I guess I’ll answer the question that Ekovox asked: Yeah I like it!

Oh yeah it's the "Delta Nationals". The album is "All Over the Map". A very eclectic album of songs about people and places. And, oh yeah, here's some more of their tunes!

Tom Green in Garberville

Tom Green Photo by Shannon? Click on photo to enlarge.

Tom Green made the mistake of getting hungry in Garberville today. My mother sold him his straw hat, that he is wearing, at Browns Sporting Goods. The young lady in the photo is the worlds best waitress, shirley Rumsfeldt.

She has quite a few photo's of herself taken with celebrities that she seems to always recognise. Strangely they all seem to put up with her, usually I'm so embarrassed that I look for a place to hide when she does this.

Those who don't know who Tom Green is, he is a situational comedian and he can be seen a lot on MTV. He is the originator of "Jackasses", if you know what that is. He is probably most famous for being married to Drew Barrymore for a couple of years. He is an interesting and different kind of guy, and you will be sure to be seeing more of him. Here's a wikipedia link that you can go to to learn more.

As soon as I find out who took the photo, I will give the proper photo credit. It looks like Shannon beside Shirleys left ear, in the mirror. Right now all I have is Shirley's E-Mail bragging about her most recent score.

I can't believe that I've lowered this blog to the status of a Hollywood gossip column.

Eel River Ernie on Roger Rodoni.

Eel River Ernie, who is sometimes confused with me but he is not, is one of the most interesting commenter's in the north coast blogs. He doesn't have a blog, but he can use mine anytime, so I'm going to move his most heartfelt comment about Roger Rodoni to the front page.

Eel River Ernie said...

I have just not been able to bring myself to comment over the past two days as the sadness and grief over losing Roger has kind of overwhelmed me. Roger was special in many ways, not only his straightforward manner but in his common sense and grasp of what was and is right. I have shared many a fishing, camping, hunting and travel stories with him over the years. Once or twice (a month) we even had a cocktail or two together at Parlato’s or other unseemly places, i.e.; Native Sons, Fortuna Chamber Mixer or Rotary gathering. Roger and Johanna are special people, down to earth, realistic folks with deep roots in our rural Southern Humboldt culture.

I worked with Roger as part of his campaign committee three times over and as a fellow member of several boards and commissions including HCAOG, HTA and the Fish and Game Commission. His reserved manner, no nonsense approach to problem solving along with his ability to weave an appropriate analogy into a debate added a great deal of humor to quasi serious discussions and settled many a dispute before their start.

Roger was a man of many talents and interests, and some of my favorite conversations with him dealt with his and Johanna’s summer trips to Montana and Wyoming. Most recently, at Roger and Johanna’s recommendation, the wife and I visited the Lewis and Clark exhibition and Charles Russell museum in Great Falls Montana which gave me a lot of insight into Roger’s being and beliefs.

I could go on and on about shared experiences in Canada, Montana, Wyoming, Nevada and elsewhere but one phrase comes to mind that I think kind of sums up folks of Roger’s ilk that I recall from a tour of duty in the our capitol city of Sacramento. Over State Office Building Number 1, across from the State Library and just west of the Capitol, inscribed in granite is the saying from a Samuel Foss poem “Bring Me Men To Match The Mountains” the rest of the poem, stated elsewhere, goes on to say “Bring me men to match my plains: Men with empires in their purpose and new eras in their brains.” To me, Roger was of one of those of whom Samuel Foss spoke.

My heart goes out to Johanna and the family.

Eel River Ernie

Roger Rodoni

Photo of Rodger Rodoni, taken by Matt Knowles, copied from the Rodoni website.


Roger Rodoni died in car accident by Eel River Sawmills in Fortuna. I’m sorry, but I have no further details. I heard it on Channel 3 after tonight’s news. There should be more details soon.

There are times in a person’s life that a person has to analyze who they are, and how they conduct themselves. When I heard the shocking news that Roger Rodoni was killed in a car accident. My first thought was that a man that I greatly admired had died. My second thought was guilt, because I did not support him in his most recent bid for the position of Humboldt Co Supervisor.

I remember deciding, at the time that I chose who I was going to support, that I would not be disparaging or disrespectful toward Roger at any time or in anyway. I knew that when I chose to support someone else that I could no longer qualify to call myself his friend. Life gives a person choices, and you have to chose your path. Sometimes that means that you have to take a different path from someone that you greatly admire and respect. The paths that Rodger and I took were divergent. I’ve said many times that I liked and respected Roger, and that he would be welcome in my home at anytime. I never changed that opinion of him.

The things that I greatly admired about Roger was his ability to convey his thoughts to someone else, clearly and concisely, and he gave no room for misunderstanding. You always knew where you stood with Roger, because he didn’t mince words. I strongly believe that he loved this county and was trying to do what he thought was best for it. He was a great advocate for the rural way of life and I appreciate him for that. He will be greatly missed by me and many others.
My condolences to those that loved him.

From Times-Standard:
Supervisor Roger Rodoni was killed in a car accident at approximately 5 p.m. today, according to Humboldt County Coroner Frank Jager. The accident involved four cars just north of the Rio Dell Bridge on U.S. Highway 101.
Jager said a California Highway Patrol lieutenant on the scene said Rodoni was not at fault. Another car had crossed over the center line and hit Rodoni's car. After that, two other cars were involved, Jager said.

From Eureka Reporter:

Humboldt County Second District Supervisor Roger Rodoni died in a car crash just after 5 p.m. today, the Coroner’s Office reported.
Rodoni, who was serving his third four-year term on the Humboldt County Board of Supervisors, was declared dead at the scene, County Coroner Frank Jäger said. Three cars were involved in the accident that occurred just past the Rio Dell Bridge on northbound U.S. Highway 101.
It was unclear whether anyone was in the vehicle with Rodoni, Jäger said. The California Highway Patrol will provide further details later.

Uh-oh!

I thought that biofuels were the answer to all or problems, then I ran across this:


Biofuels could boost global warming, finds study. 21 September 2007 By Zoe Corbyn.


Growing and burning many biofuels may actually raise rather than lower greenhouse gas emissions, a new study led by Nobel prize-winning chemist Paul Crutzen has shown.1 The findings come in the wake of a recent OECD report, which warned nations not to rush headlong into growing energy crops because they cause food shortages and damage biodiversity.
Crutzen and colleagues have calculated that growing some of the most commonly used biofuel crops releases around twice the amount of the potent greenhouse gas nitrous oxide (N2O) than previously thought - wiping out any benefits from not using fossil fuels and, worse, probably contributing to global warming. The work appears in Atmospheric Chemistry and Physics and is currently subject to open review.
'The significance of it is that the supposed benefits of biofuel are even more disputable than had been thought hitherto,' Keith Smith, a co-author on the paper from the University of Edinburgh, told Chemistry World. 'What we are saying is that [growing many biofuels] is probably of no benefit and in fact is actually making the climate issue worse.'
"What we are saying is that growing biofuels is probably of no benefit and in fact is actually making the climate issue worse"- Keith Smith
Crutzen, famous for his work on nitrogen oxides and the ozone layer, declined to comment before the paper is officially published. But the paper suggests that microbes convert much more of the nitrogen in fertiliser to N2O than previously thought - 3 to 5 per cent or twice the widely accepted figure of 2 per cent used by the International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).
For rapeseed biodiesel, which accounts for about 80 per cent of the biofuel production in Europe, the relative warming due to N2O emissions is estimated at 1 to 1.7 times larger than the quasi-cooling effect due to saved fossil CO2 emissions. For corn bioethanol, dominant in the US, the figure is 0.9 to 1.5. Only cane sugar bioethanol - with a relative warming of 0.5 to 0.9 - looks like a viable alternative to conventional fuels.
Some previous estimates had suggested that biofuels could cut greenhouse gas emissions by up to 40 per cent.2
Global picture
The IPCC's N2O conversion factor is derived using data from plant experiments. But Crutzen takes a different approach, using atmospheric measurements and ice core data to calculate the total amount of N2O in the atmosphere. He then subtracts the level of N2O in pre-industrial times - before fertilizers were available - to take account of N2O from natural processes such as leguminous plants growing in forests, lightning, and burn offs.
Assuming the rest of the N2O is attributable to newly-fixed nitrogen from fertilizer use, and knowing the amount of fertilizer applied globally, he can calculate the contribution of fertilizers to N2O levels.
The results may well trigger a rethink by the IPCC, says Smith. 'Should we go along the road of adding up the experimental evidence for each of the processes or are we better off using the global numbers?'
Critical reception
But other experts are critical of Crutzen's approach. Simon Donner, a nitrogen researcher based at Princeton University, US, says the method is elegant but there is little evidence to show the N2O yield from fertilized plants is really as high as 3-5 per cent. Crutzen's basic assumption, that pre-industrial N2O emissions are the same as natural N2O emissions, is 'probably wrong', says Donner.
One reason he gives is that farmers plant crops in places that have nitrogen rich soils anyway. 'It is possible we are indirectly increasing the "natural" source of N2O by drawing down the soil nitrogen in the world's agricultural regions,' he explains.
Others dispute the values chosen by Crutzen to calculate his budget. Stefan Rauh, an agricultural scientist at the Instituteof Agricultural Economics and Farm Management in Munich, Germany, says some of the rates for converting crops into biofuel should be higher. 'If you use the other factors you get a little net climate cooling,' he said.
Meanwhile, a report prepared by the OECD for a recent Round Table on Sustainable Development questions the benefits of first generation biofuels and concludes that governments should scrap mandatory targets.
Richard Doornbosch, the report's author, says both the report and Crutzen's work highlights the importance of establishing correct full life-cycle assessments for biofuels. 'Without them, government policies can't distinguish between one biofuel and another - risking making problems worse,' said Doornbosch.
Zoe Corbyn

Next wonder

Valley Manzanita

This time you are just going to have to go with me on this, or you can research it more if you like, because I don't know any of the newcomer things about this plant, and I have seen it misidentified as Mesquite, and Madrona. So, I'm going to go with my families names for this plant.

We have two kinds of manzanita around here. There is what the old-timers called "Valley Manzanita" and "Mountain manzanita". The valley Manzanita grows mostly on sunny hillsides, and the Mountain Manzanita grows mostly on ridge tops. I guess that was how they were named by the old-timers. I understand that there are many varieties of manzanita but I've only seen the two.

Valley Manzanita has deep green leaves, and when it blooms the blossoms are pink, the bark near the branch ends is smooth. The Mountain Manzanita has grey/green leaves the blossoms are white, and the branch ends are hairy. It is sometimes called "Grey Manzanita" or "Hairy manzanita".

Now that you know that we have two manzanitas the rest of the features are the same. It is an extremely hard wood and the roots sometimes have a great burl. The bark is rich red/maroon and peels off in the summer and it makes a flavorful tea. The bush is low in tannins and makes good non-toxic bird perches. The berries that grow on the bush can be dried and ground into flour. But don't eat too much of it because it doesn't pass well, and can leave you quite constipated. Eat it with other things, like acorn muffins and wild strawberries.

The manzanita was one of the most important plants to the north coast old-timers, it was the only plant that we have that burns as hot as it does. It burns even hotter than Madrone. It was used in the forges that were used by the blacksmiths that lived here in the early days. It saved them many hours of heating iron to shoe horses. Most of the gate hinges and latches on my grandmothers ranch in Laytonville were forged in my grandfathers old hand crank forge fired with manzanita. It was seldom used as firewood because it burned to hot, and would burn the grates right out of a stove.

One of the things that the old-timers said about manzanita is that the seeds will only spout after being cracked open by a fire or eaten by a bear. I guess that's what you'd call "hard to get".

The Blossoms of both plants are very sweet with nectar, I often will eat a handful of blossoms, it brings back sweet memories. Often I have to find a plant that isn't infested with ants that are also after the nectar. Eat your heart out Eule Gibbons.

The next time that you are out for a drive and see a manzanita bush, stop and impress your children with your knowledge of nature. Just walk up to the bush and pull down a branch end and look at it. If it has hairs on it, it is a Mountain Manzanita. If it is smooth, it is a Valley Manzanita.

Then tell them why this was an important plant to Ernie's Grandparents.

More North Coast Wonders.

Trillium Ovatum, or Western Wake Robin

Clarisa nominated the Trillium for a north coast wonder, so here's what I know about them. First there is a Wake Robin and then there is a Trillium that grows on the North Coast.

The Wake Robin is a member of the Trillium family and can be recognised by the fact that the flower blooms above the three leaves of the main plant. It appears to leap up at you. The blossom blooms a virginal white color, then as the blossom ages it turns a bright scarlet maroon color, like the virgin was made to blush.

I took two photo's with my cell-phone of the wake Robins under the Redwoods in lower Redway for this post, but the photo didn't do them justice, but you can tell the older blossoms from their deep red color. As they age, three little leaves grow under the blossom.



Never, ever pick a Wake Robin. As you can easily see, if you pick the wake robin leaves and all the plant will not have any source of nutrients, and it will either die, or be seriously set back and may not bloom again for a few years. If you absolutely must pick one, pick only the flower. But, it is much too beautiful to destroy.

This is a bed of Redwood Sorrel being invaded by the cursed English Ivy. I took the photo in lower Redway where someone long ago decided that it would look nice to have some English Ivy growing. Now it will probably choke out the beautiful sorrel plant.

Redwood sorrel is called Oxalis oregena by the newcomers, I kinda get a kick out of that... calling Redwood Sorrel Oxalis Oregena, Like Oregon has Redwood trees!

Redwood sorrel grows in great mats beneath the redwood trees in the deep shade. it is most beautiful in April and may.















If you pick a stem of sorrel and taste it, it tastes like rhubarb. I've been told that sorrel is toxic, but I'm not dead, and I've chewed a lot of it. They say the leaves of rhubarb are also toxic. maybe they have the same poison in them, ya' think?












And this is the rare and beautiful trillium. I've only found them at higher elevations on the north side of a hill in timber. Usually near a spring. I really don't know their habitat I only know where I've found them. See how the flower grows right out of the three leaves? And they are larger than the Wake Robin. Again don't pick them!

Just a few favorite things.

From Wikipedia, The Seven Wonders of the Ancient World (from left to right, top to bottom): Great Pyramid of Giza, Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Temple of Artemis at Epheseus, Statue of Zeus at Olympia, Mausoleum of Maussollos, Colossus of Rhodes and the Lighthouse of Alexandria as depicted by 16th-century Dutch artist Marten Heemskerk.

These were the first "Seven Wonders of the World". There has been much argument and proclamation of what the new wonders should be and why. There are engineering wonders, natural wonders, beautiful wonders, and so on. Most of these thin