The Dead of Night, Old Growth spiders in my brain.
- Thread starter RandyMac
- Start date
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flushcut
Addicted to ArboristSite
Did you get a chance to finish your book while you were in camp?
forestryworks
Addicted to ArboristSite
MacKendrick!
RandyMac
Stiff Member
Crumpler!!!
paccity
Addicted to ArboristSite
it's looking at me again!:bulgy-eyes:
RandyMac
Stiff Member
And IT knows what you are thinking.
thanks for reminding me that I need to go feed the Grapple Cat. He gets mean if I don't.
RandyMac
Stiff Member
I am here to serve.
forestryworks
Addicted to ArboristSite
RandyMac
Stiff Member
A good a name as any, it is running the show after all.
Ok Randy, Time for another installment..........PLEASE.
RandyMac
Stiff Member
ok, later. Got to get a few things done first.
Eccentric
Mister Wizard
Hey Randy,
Is that the old Chevy that got the 'extra ventillation' due to the case of mistaken identity???
opcorn:
RandyMac
Stiff Member
Oh gosh.
RandyMac
Stiff Member
Back in 1980 I was snowshoeing in the northern Sierra Nevadas. Being a knothead I was by myself and was only intending to be out for the day, but was prepared for a bit more than that. I started at first light, needed hard snow to go uphill on, the part was pretty steep. It started to snow just about the time I got to the top and really came down an hour later. I followed the ridge top, it was easy because there was no trees and flat enough for a good trail. I heard thunder, very odd, thunder in a snowstorm. I got this weird itchy feeling, it got worse and I heard a humming. Snow was being shaken from the shrubs, I stopped, very puzzled, I took off my hat, my hair stuck out everywhere. Oh, I thought, not a good place to be, a charge was building up and I was very nearly the tallest thing around. I plunged downhill toward the stream, stopping at a faint trail at the bottom. The bolt hit farther up, a sizzling crack with a blinding blue flash. It didn't ground right away and blew snow for hundreds of feet. More thunder, I stuck to the trail, not much of a choice, the stream had cut steep banks, 5 foot snowshoes didn't allow for fancy footwork.
I had lost a lot of time, it was going to be dark in an hour and I had to keep following the stream, it was slow going. I spotted an overhang on the bluff on the opposite side, gritted my teeth, waded across in fast moving, very cold water, just above my knees. I decided to tough it out and spend the night under the rock. With much labor a fire of sorts was burning, I had the little stove doing it's mediocore best to melt snow into coffee. It got dark fast, in a blink of an eye twilight was gone. While foraging for firewood, I found that the overhang had a split in the rock. I grabbed the flashlight to take a look. I was completely amazed at what I saw. Petroglyphs, lots of them. Most were the standard etchings that the natives left everywhere, some were not. I still find it difficult to describe them, they weren't like anything I had seen before. One was a man figure with three rings around his head, yes I knew it was a man, there was artisic proof of manhood, something the natives didn't do much of. There were other weird things as well, nothing that I could make any sense of. Petrogylphs are fairly standardized with regional styles, this place was off scale. I did give some thought to moving on, but the snow was falling hard, it was dark, haybale fort dark, so I hunkered down. I tried to sleep, it wasn't happening, a check of the time showed that it was many hours until daylight. Still kinda creeped out by the ancient artwork, I of course heard funny noises. A sound like the creaking of whicker furniture, a hollow bass note like footsteps on wood planks and what seemed to be a scraping noise, like glass on stone. All of this was like a flicker of movement at the corner of one's eye. I double damned the singing in my ears, I could not trace where any of these sounds were coming from, the stream was not helping matters. I decided to leave, which meant crossing the stream, again, in the dark.
I found a solid stick and commenced. I made it to the trail, figured that continuing upstream was the best bet. I tried to stride away purposely as in not running in panic, not easy to do in snowshoes. I trudged on for about two hours, stopping now and then to listen and heard nothing. I denned up at the base of a big sized tree, another fire, more coffee, a few cigars later it was light. Internal conflict raged, part of me badly wanted to go back and check that place out in the light. The rest of me wanted out as soon as I could. I departed, leaving the mysteries behind.
That afternoon, in oh so glorious sunlight, I made my way back towards my truck. I had to backtrail once, because of bad ground and found that a Wolverine had been following me, it took a nasty crap in one of my footsteps. I came to a meadow with early snowmelt streamlets winding around willow clumps. I stood in a thicket of pines, trying to decide whether or not to remove the snowshoes or just carry on. While I was thinking, about 15 feet in front of me, from behind a willow clump, up pops a cinnamin bear, standing on his hind legs. He didn't see me and started toward me, damned snowshoes, couldn't run. So, I drew my heavy revolver, crouched down and stuck a bowie knife in a close by tree. I need not have worried, he caught a big nose full of sweating whiteman and decamped in a hurry. I laughed my ass off, the poor thing had just gotten out of hibernation, his skin was three sizes too big. He looked like a child in Daddy's clothes, when he ran, that loose hide was a half step behind him.
When summer came, I could not make myself go back to that place, it still creeps me out, badly.
I went too far, I smell pine smoke.
I had lost a lot of time, it was going to be dark in an hour and I had to keep following the stream, it was slow going. I spotted an overhang on the bluff on the opposite side, gritted my teeth, waded across in fast moving, very cold water, just above my knees. I decided to tough it out and spend the night under the rock. With much labor a fire of sorts was burning, I had the little stove doing it's mediocore best to melt snow into coffee. It got dark fast, in a blink of an eye twilight was gone. While foraging for firewood, I found that the overhang had a split in the rock. I grabbed the flashlight to take a look. I was completely amazed at what I saw. Petroglyphs, lots of them. Most were the standard etchings that the natives left everywhere, some were not. I still find it difficult to describe them, they weren't like anything I had seen before. One was a man figure with three rings around his head, yes I knew it was a man, there was artisic proof of manhood, something the natives didn't do much of. There were other weird things as well, nothing that I could make any sense of. Petrogylphs are fairly standardized with regional styles, this place was off scale. I did give some thought to moving on, but the snow was falling hard, it was dark, haybale fort dark, so I hunkered down. I tried to sleep, it wasn't happening, a check of the time showed that it was many hours until daylight. Still kinda creeped out by the ancient artwork, I of course heard funny noises. A sound like the creaking of whicker furniture, a hollow bass note like footsteps on wood planks and what seemed to be a scraping noise, like glass on stone. All of this was like a flicker of movement at the corner of one's eye. I double damned the singing in my ears, I could not trace where any of these sounds were coming from, the stream was not helping matters. I decided to leave, which meant crossing the stream, again, in the dark.
I found a solid stick and commenced. I made it to the trail, figured that continuing upstream was the best bet. I tried to stride away purposely as in not running in panic, not easy to do in snowshoes. I trudged on for about two hours, stopping now and then to listen and heard nothing. I denned up at the base of a big sized tree, another fire, more coffee, a few cigars later it was light. Internal conflict raged, part of me badly wanted to go back and check that place out in the light. The rest of me wanted out as soon as I could. I departed, leaving the mysteries behind.
That afternoon, in oh so glorious sunlight, I made my way back towards my truck. I had to backtrail once, because of bad ground and found that a Wolverine had been following me, it took a nasty crap in one of my footsteps. I came to a meadow with early snowmelt streamlets winding around willow clumps. I stood in a thicket of pines, trying to decide whether or not to remove the snowshoes or just carry on. While I was thinking, about 15 feet in front of me, from behind a willow clump, up pops a cinnamin bear, standing on his hind legs. He didn't see me and started toward me, damned snowshoes, couldn't run. So, I drew my heavy revolver, crouched down and stuck a bowie knife in a close by tree. I need not have worried, he caught a big nose full of sweating whiteman and decamped in a hurry. I laughed my ass off, the poor thing had just gotten out of hibernation, his skin was three sizes too big. He looked like a child in Daddy's clothes, when he ran, that loose hide was a half step behind him.
When summer came, I could not make myself go back to that place, it still creeps me out, badly.
I went too far, I smell pine smoke.
Eccentric
Mister Wizard
Sounds like it's time for a drink Randy. If you're still at work, say so. That way I can have one for you too! That was another good one my friend. I've felt and heard the "pre lightning" hum/buzz thing in the Sierra myself. I've spent a night or two in 'very old' places that made me feel like that too (with the sounds and corner-of-the-eye movements). No petroglyphs though...............at least not the ancient kind. Over a few belts I'll tell you about some of the experiences I've had skulking around our now shut-down 79 year old facility and the grounds surrounding it...
RandyMac
Stiff Member
Our little jail has history back to '64, with an addition from '94. The are things that make noise or flickered sightings. I work in a mostly glassed octagon with the glass to the tanks "mirroring" the angles. Now and then I see an old guy in a green uniform reflected in the H-0 tank glass. The dept changed to black uniforms in '88.
One of the resident boogers will toss a handball in the old side rec in the middle of the night. The jail was built along side an old stream bed, which is now F street, rumor has is that there was a pioneer gravesite near here.
We have a death here about once every two years, the lastest was Dec last year, a violent one. That kind of sprit is easy to handle, the ancient ones forget they are dead and won't be dealt with.
There is a cave system north of Wilson Creek, right on the ocean. Humboldt and I went through it once, never again, just too strange.
One of the resident boogers will toss a handball in the old side rec in the middle of the night. The jail was built along side an old stream bed, which is now F street, rumor has is that there was a pioneer gravesite near here.
We have a death here about once every two years, the lastest was Dec last year, a violent one. That kind of sprit is easy to handle, the ancient ones forget they are dead and won't be dealt with.
There is a cave system north of Wilson Creek, right on the ocean. Humboldt and I went through it once, never again, just too strange.
Eccentric
Mister Wizard
I still have a few of my greens. We changed to black uniforms in 1999. Took the patches off of the greens and use them as coveralls when working on equipment. You see and hear strange things working nights...
We shut our old facility down in August of 2006. It had been in continuous opperation since 1932 or so. I feel fortunate to have worked in there before the shutdown. It's extremely facinating. The sub basement (which is realy three stories underground) has three HUGE boilers that are similar to what was in large steamships of the period. The electrical pannels down there look like something out of Dr Frankenstein's lab. They're taking 'soil samples' around the place (lotsa lead and asbestos) and planning it's demolition. I'll be sad to see it go, but am looking forward to seeing much of the 'inner workings' exposed to view. The original refrigeration plant was amonia based. Much of the old compressors and such were just walled over in sections of the basement when they were 'replaced'.
The city stopped spending any real money to maintain it back in the '80s, as it was "only going to be running a couple more years".....................for about 25 years or so. If they'd maintained it, the place would be in much better shape. I am so angry about that fact that I could chew nails and spit screws. We're only about 1/4 mile from the ocean. Salt air....neglect.......concrete........steel...
The property this facility (and the new one) is on is still heavily wooded. There's a section of GG Park NRA that butts up against it. There's a wildlife preserve nearby too. Whole place is still very old and wild.............despite being so near metropolis. Told you about that Cougar I saw last year while making night rounds. There was a herd of Bison from GGP there years ago. I've seen coyotes, deer, a cougar, bobcats, owls, various falcons, etc. I believe there were Miwak Indians on that land at some point as well...
I've been in the old facility about a dozen times since we shut 'er down. Extremely spooky. Back in the 'old days' (up until about 30-40 years ago) it was used to house a lot of drunk-in-publics (that are now just kept in a 647f RWS tank downtown at intake/booking until sober, then cited and released). Drunks would spend a week or so out there. I know old timers that swear that during certain times of the year they'd have a DIC once a WEEK amoung all those decrepid old drunks. Again, that was many decades ago. That's a lot of souls that departed there over the years.
Then there's the ad-seg cell in 6-South where three guys committed suicide. We hadn't used any of those ancient "Alkatraz sollitary confinement looking" all steel cells in 20 years. If you spend any time in that cell you'll get a terrible chill and a nervous feeling that doesn't come from any of the other cells. Doesn't have anything to do with a draft either. I won't get into the violent DIC's that have happened there over the decades...
Since we've shut that place down, I've seen more than a few flashes of orange moving by the windows on the tiers. Heard gates crashing when inside too, despite there being no wind at the time. Also heard locks turning and showers being turned on (they have push-button pneumatic timed valves).
Down in the basement, a coworker and I were loading firefighting equipment to take over to the new facility for storage. We heard a heavily loaded bar being lifted and clanked onto the bench in the old staff weight room down the hall. Heard it many times over about an hour period (while we were finding equipment and loading it in a cart). Made our way to the weight room, and ALL of the weights had been removed. Only an empty bench. NOTHING loose to swing or clank. We had the only keys to the facility and were the only live souls there save the rats...
That will do for now. I've got a cold sweat going. The rest will wait until we're talkin' and drinkin' face to face...
We shut our old facility down in August of 2006. It had been in continuous opperation since 1932 or so. I feel fortunate to have worked in there before the shutdown. It's extremely facinating. The sub basement (which is realy three stories underground) has three HUGE boilers that are similar to what was in large steamships of the period. The electrical pannels down there look like something out of Dr Frankenstein's lab. They're taking 'soil samples' around the place (lotsa lead and asbestos) and planning it's demolition. I'll be sad to see it go, but am looking forward to seeing much of the 'inner workings' exposed to view. The original refrigeration plant was amonia based. Much of the old compressors and such were just walled over in sections of the basement when they were 'replaced'.
The city stopped spending any real money to maintain it back in the '80s, as it was "only going to be running a couple more years".....................for about 25 years or so. If they'd maintained it, the place would be in much better shape. I am so angry about that fact that I could chew nails and spit screws. We're only about 1/4 mile from the ocean. Salt air....neglect.......concrete........steel...
The property this facility (and the new one) is on is still heavily wooded. There's a section of GG Park NRA that butts up against it. There's a wildlife preserve nearby too. Whole place is still very old and wild.............despite being so near metropolis. Told you about that Cougar I saw last year while making night rounds. There was a herd of Bison from GGP there years ago. I've seen coyotes, deer, a cougar, bobcats, owls, various falcons, etc. I believe there were Miwak Indians on that land at some point as well...
I've been in the old facility about a dozen times since we shut 'er down. Extremely spooky. Back in the 'old days' (up until about 30-40 years ago) it was used to house a lot of drunk-in-publics (that are now just kept in a 647f RWS tank downtown at intake/booking until sober, then cited and released). Drunks would spend a week or so out there. I know old timers that swear that during certain times of the year they'd have a DIC once a WEEK amoung all those decrepid old drunks. Again, that was many decades ago. That's a lot of souls that departed there over the years.
Then there's the ad-seg cell in 6-South where three guys committed suicide. We hadn't used any of those ancient "Alkatraz sollitary confinement looking" all steel cells in 20 years. If you spend any time in that cell you'll get a terrible chill and a nervous feeling that doesn't come from any of the other cells. Doesn't have anything to do with a draft either. I won't get into the violent DIC's that have happened there over the decades...
Since we've shut that place down, I've seen more than a few flashes of orange moving by the windows on the tiers. Heard gates crashing when inside too, despite there being no wind at the time. Also heard locks turning and showers being turned on (they have push-button pneumatic timed valves).
Down in the basement, a coworker and I were loading firefighting equipment to take over to the new facility for storage. We heard a heavily loaded bar being lifted and clanked onto the bench in the old staff weight room down the hall. Heard it many times over about an hour period (while we were finding equipment and loading it in a cart). Made our way to the weight room, and ALL of the weights had been removed. Only an empty bench. NOTHING loose to swing or clank. We had the only keys to the facility and were the only live souls there save the rats...
That will do for now. I've got a cold sweat going. The rest will wait until we're talkin' and drinkin' face to face...
Last edited:
ChrisF
ArboristSite Guru
Awesome stories, both of you!
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