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Before leaving Spokane, I fought fires for a few weeks during the summer of 1961. Worked at memorable places like the Robin Creek fire in the Salmon River area, near Riggins, Idaho; and the Horseshoe Lake fire, near Hamilton, Montana.
Four years after coming to California, I got hired as a lookout for the California Department of Forestry on Mount Hamilton. This lookout tower gave me an 80 mile view in all directions; it was located above Lick Observatory. When the air was clear, I could see the Sierra Nevada Range. I did this for part of the summer of 1966, until I got cabin fever in the tower for the 8 day stretches, and was hired to drive an initial attack pumper unit (fire truck) for Tahoe National Forest, in the Foresthill District, for the rest of the fire season.
I began taking flying lessons at Hayward airport in 1964. My old man was Army Air Corps in WWII; and I was fascinated as a little kid when I heard him and a friend stationed in the same B-17 Bomber group in England, talking about aviation. My favorite author was Jack London while in grade and junior high school. The combination was probably why I became interested in being a bush pilot. My dad thought I was crazy to want to fly bush aircraft. He worked for the FAA; so what did he know? He was never supportive anyway, so I took his advice with a grain of salt.
I logged more than the minimum 40 hours, completing all the required cross-country, under the hood, etc. to get the private license. I took a commercial ground school class - but my plans changed dramatically by getting married. We bought a home, and the money dried up for such "frivolous" things as flying.
My MOS in the Marine Corps was 0846, Artillery Forward Observer. In Spokane, the artillery unit was a 155mm Howitzer Battery. When I transferred to the Treasure Island unit, the guns were 105mm Howitzers. Summer active duty training was usually at 29 Palms, California.
In October 1962, we were ordered to an unscheduled Monday night assembly. The Cuban missile crisis had reached an alarming point. We were ordered to pack our sea bags and be ready at moment's notice to gather at NAS Alameda. We were to give all phone numbers where we could be reached. Rumors were that we might fly to Guantanamo Bay. I remember telling someone that shared that scoop - "it wouldn't make much difference where we may try to go, if the missiles are launched between the US and the Soviets, we will be toast... wherever we are". San Francisco was a prime target during the Cold War.
I worked for Safeway and Russell's Markets for several years while married, and took classes at night school at Chabot Junior College. After my divorce, I finished my degree requirements at California State University Hayward in 1978.
I was hired in 1979 as a compliance Industrial Hygienist for the State of California, Division of Occupational Health & Safety. It was a very interesting job for 8 years, until the Governor "Blue Penciled" the program out of the budget. I survived the layoff and went to Cal/OSHA Consultation group, briefly. Mind numbing boredom motivated me to apply at the Department of Health Services - Toxic Substances Control Program. I retired after 26 years, and worked as a retired annuitant for Cal/EPA for a while.
I'm fully retired now, and appreciate having the luck to live to retirement. My grandfather and my dad weren't lucky enough to live to retire.
My most memorable recreational experiences have been long backpacking vacations with friends - 3 couples; 11 day trips in the John Muir Wilderness above Bishop, California. My lifelong friend, Virgil Patterson and his talented artist wife Linda were always part of our group mountain trips. Some of you may have known Virgil as "Junior" Patterson - a Central Valley High 1962 grad. We shared these vacation journeys with mutual best friends, Ed and Lorraine.
I climbed Mt. Shasta in July 1978 on the Avalanche Gulch route. It was a one day climb, causing the somewhat "green" shade of our faces when I took a picture of us at the summit... smiling, but nauseated.
Cross country skiing became popular in the early '70's and I gave it a try. I much more preferred a good pair of snowshoes for snow travel, and more or less gave away my Bonna Hickory skis. Downhill skiing was fun, but I never got better than an average intermediate level.
In 1978, I ran the Bay to Breakers. I wore a $10 pair of K-Mart shoes... did it in 61 minutes. In 1979, I ran the Bay Bridge run that started at the Oakland Army terminal and finished at the Ferry Building. I don't remember my time, but I do remember that a girl that was running faster than me, had a great looking pair of running shorts that motivated me to finish with a much better time than I would've without that incentive.
Mountain biking was a favorite activity; and my hairiest ride was the at the Mammoth Mountain ski area. The Kamikaze Run was the most challenging. My brakes were on much of the way down the trail. My friend Ed said it felt like he was doing a handstand on a unicycle on that run. Well said.
I took some winter snow camping excursions after taking a class from the Sierra Club in the winter of 1974.
My last snow camping experience was in January 1989 at Capitol Reef. It was well below zero degrees F after dark, the only night we slept out.
Julie and I slept in a dome tent, and Ed & Lorraine slept in the "relative comfort" of their pickup camper. It was so cold that the Jack Daniels bourbon took on the consistency of pancake syrup. Lorraine made a grilled cheese sandwich during that sub-zero camp out; it looked like a "Salvador Dali" version of a grilled cheese sandwich.
Needless to say, with offseason motel rates, and a warm cabin with firewood stacked near the front door, none of us were interested in winter camping any longer.
Bryce Canyon was one of our favorite park destinations. We broke trail with snowshoes that the Park Rangers let us borrow by just leaving our drivers licenses with them. A snow flurry that began that first morning, stopped just as we strapped on the snowshoes; perfect timing. We ventured down past Thor's Hammer, snowshoeing through the fresh Utah powder. We passing through towering red sandstone pillars, enhanced by the blue-black high altitude winter sky. It was an unforgettable day. We agreed to spend another day to take a different route through this amazing park. It was every bit as breathtaking and mesmerizing, if not more so, on this second day's venture.
The heaviest snowfall in 7 years made the trip through these parks as beautiful as it could possibly be experienced. Southern Utah should be seen while covered with snow. We had chains, but never needed to use them. For the four of us, it was one of our most memorable vacations ever.
For the finale of this memorable trip, we drove the eight mile loop that passes through "Artist Point" in Monument Valley in Arizona. At one scenic stop, a pack of coyotes greeted us with a chorus. We greeted them back, and got them all worked up. We must've sounded like long lost cousins.
Another advantage with a winter trip, is that you can have these parks pretty much to yourselves.
Most of these active sports came to an end after I had neck surgery in 1991. Now, I fight the battle of the bulge by working out at the Oakland YMCA, and riding my bicycle on the East Shore Trails along the San Francisco Bay. I miss the adrenaline rush of the earlier activities, but feel lucky that I did it when I could.
