Bad_English
First Post
Hmmm lurking and the changes of lifes fortunes
I will make this one short.
Back in the day, 1973 in a Northwestern US town, that at the time was very small and crouched in the shadows of the cascades. Us locals used to go up on the 'middle fork' road which dated before the 1920's and supported logging, fishing, mining and hunting.
Of course this was the 70's and we were quite the roudy bunch of misfits. It was decided late one night about 1 AM, as we were unable to get anyone to buy us beer and we had no other mischief (herbal), save our on going obsession with LotR. So we hopped into the old 71 Cougar and booked out into night.
Now the Middle fork has a reputation; but not one we were aware of and a history that goes back quite a ways, but it was only after this night and asking alot of questions, this made sense.
It was decided not to go too far as it still was late spring and the wash outs up further would have reaped havoc on the car finding a spur road that lead out to a wide spot in the narrow valley so we could look at the stars and try to convince one of the girls to 'make out'. The loneliness and darkness was sure to work on them, (alas, it did not) shutting off the car and waiting abit for our eyes to get used to the moon light, we talked of the usual stuff. Galadriel and Frodo and how no one could ever make a movie that could even encompass the depth of the story.
The night was warm enough you could get away with a sweatshirt and soon we walked out on to the huge sandbar. People seperated to 'talk' and others tried to show off and build interest from the one other present and unattached girl.
I would say we got out about 300 yards out onto the gravel, when the couple in front of us stopped and instead of holding hands and all that they looked around as if startled.
As we approached the sound of the rushing water that filled the background with a soft echo seemed to stop. When we got closer, the air seemed to chill and we could see our breath when tha moon suddenly drooped behind a cloud everybody jumped and we looked about but could see nothing. Now youth played into this, we decided it was the moon and although the light breeze stopped it was just we needed to make a fire.
Turning to the northeast, for some reason we walked towards a stand of willows clustered around a log embedded in the sand. There forty feet away was an old fire ring with charred wood in it, we can do something and look cool. Then one of the other guys pulled out a pint of whiskey, he stole from his gramps and the adventure began.
We suddenly felt invulerable and every one scattered to find firewood, except the couple of whom the girl was still disturbed about the strange, cold spot. Her friend amazingly went off by herself looking, so we could not be shown up. The search for wood, was a noisy affair perhaps brought on by the moment earlier and the burning burbon in our stomachs.
The fire going and the fight over the last of the whiskey over, we got warm the only sound was the popping of the burning wood and the soft movement of the water echoing off the tall ring of trees, far away. We got quiet, and other than occasional bits of conversation we mostly sat and stared into the flames.
The wind suddenly started the trees to rustle and move and drown out the river as we looked about, some of us stood, suddenly a loud bang came from up close. Sounding like our friends small caliber pistol or larger, we all turned at him he sat look at us a shocked look on his face.
Now everybody was moving in the direction we thought was towards the car. The wind had stopped and the night got very cold, and fingers of mist were creeping out of the trees. "God!" We cannot leave the fire and our folks would be more angry at the fire left than the girls and the booze. So we head back and as we start to kick sand over it another loud report goes off and a hot rock comes flying out of the fire.
"Some one is shooting at us! Screw the fire we are booking!!" Now we are trying to move at a dignified scramble what was once an easy walk turned into struggle for every step. Once again we get stopped in the same spot a chill that just seems to take your breath away and all sound seems muted except your breath and the sensation of something watching and it was evil the hair stood up on my neck.
Strange you could look about there was no movement save the mist and the trees stood as if watching and waiting for something. Then the relief as I saw the reflection of the now setting moon on the chrome bumper of the car as a brief gap in the fog formed.
The cold spot was investigated during the day and out on that sand and gravel bar it was always colder and sound seemed deadened. Even in the daylight you felt it.
But we did however solve the mystery of the 'shots'.
The explosion was a phenomina from what are called "clay babies" natural concretions in clay that in this case was formed during the last ice age. The water trapped in the concretion super heats then explodes throwing red hot fragments out. Frightening the heck out of dumb a******
that should have known better.
The area on the 'middle fork' that we decided to stop at had a rock formation hidden in the hills nearby, that according to tradition was made from the hair of some sisters abducted by 'spirits from the moon' to be their brides.
The women grew their hair long and made a rope in order to climb down from the moon and they pulled the rope down so as to stop the 'spirits' from following. The hair fell and made the rocks.
Oh the name of the tribe the women come from translates to "Childern of the Moon." or Snoqualmie.
The broken half circle of mountain called Mount Si, is supposed to be a portion of the moon that fell from the sky. It was called "Twin Peaks" on TV.
The name of the river is also the Snoqualmie and the famous satquatch tracks were made in the 80's by a good, and very drunk friend of mine. Who cut off some old cross counrty skies and made a plywood feet nailed to it and on the bottom was cardboard, cause even a drunk knows a plywood print has to have something on it.
Lubricated with Jack Daniels he puts them on his feet only to discover the stiff plywood feet caused him spring board, in a marvelous show of luck and dexterity to wind up making huge drunken strides into the river. Where he barely survived drowning with those monstrosites attached to his feet only to finally remove them 40 yards down stream and drag his wet self out onto the rocks.
News crews, researchers, plaster castings, and a very drunk wet friend. Now you cannot say that is not scary.
You know Twin Peaks was filmed in part there and in that year about 8 miles away Ted Bundy' first victims were found. And the truth about the cherry pies made famous during the filming was, made from a can. Ted continued his terror for many years to come.
I will make this one short.
Back in the day, 1973 in a Northwestern US town, that at the time was very small and crouched in the shadows of the cascades. Us locals used to go up on the 'middle fork' road which dated before the 1920's and supported logging, fishing, mining and hunting.
Of course this was the 70's and we were quite the roudy bunch of misfits. It was decided late one night about 1 AM, as we were unable to get anyone to buy us beer and we had no other mischief (herbal), save our on going obsession with LotR. So we hopped into the old 71 Cougar and booked out into night.
Now the Middle fork has a reputation; but not one we were aware of and a history that goes back quite a ways, but it was only after this night and asking alot of questions, this made sense.
It was decided not to go too far as it still was late spring and the wash outs up further would have reaped havoc on the car finding a spur road that lead out to a wide spot in the narrow valley so we could look at the stars and try to convince one of the girls to 'make out'. The loneliness and darkness was sure to work on them, (alas, it did not) shutting off the car and waiting abit for our eyes to get used to the moon light, we talked of the usual stuff. Galadriel and Frodo and how no one could ever make a movie that could even encompass the depth of the story.
The night was warm enough you could get away with a sweatshirt and soon we walked out on to the huge sandbar. People seperated to 'talk' and others tried to show off and build interest from the one other present and unattached girl.
I would say we got out about 300 yards out onto the gravel, when the couple in front of us stopped and instead of holding hands and all that they looked around as if startled.
As we approached the sound of the rushing water that filled the background with a soft echo seemed to stop. When we got closer, the air seemed to chill and we could see our breath when tha moon suddenly drooped behind a cloud everybody jumped and we looked about but could see nothing. Now youth played into this, we decided it was the moon and although the light breeze stopped it was just we needed to make a fire.
Turning to the northeast, for some reason we walked towards a stand of willows clustered around a log embedded in the sand. There forty feet away was an old fire ring with charred wood in it, we can do something and look cool. Then one of the other guys pulled out a pint of whiskey, he stole from his gramps and the adventure began.
We suddenly felt invulerable and every one scattered to find firewood, except the couple of whom the girl was still disturbed about the strange, cold spot. Her friend amazingly went off by herself looking, so we could not be shown up. The search for wood, was a noisy affair perhaps brought on by the moment earlier and the burning burbon in our stomachs.
The fire going and the fight over the last of the whiskey over, we got warm the only sound was the popping of the burning wood and the soft movement of the water echoing off the tall ring of trees, far away. We got quiet, and other than occasional bits of conversation we mostly sat and stared into the flames.
The wind suddenly started the trees to rustle and move and drown out the river as we looked about, some of us stood, suddenly a loud bang came from up close. Sounding like our friends small caliber pistol or larger, we all turned at him he sat look at us a shocked look on his face.
Now everybody was moving in the direction we thought was towards the car. The wind had stopped and the night got very cold, and fingers of mist were creeping out of the trees. "God!" We cannot leave the fire and our folks would be more angry at the fire left than the girls and the booze. So we head back and as we start to kick sand over it another loud report goes off and a hot rock comes flying out of the fire.
"Some one is shooting at us! Screw the fire we are booking!!" Now we are trying to move at a dignified scramble what was once an easy walk turned into struggle for every step. Once again we get stopped in the same spot a chill that just seems to take your breath away and all sound seems muted except your breath and the sensation of something watching and it was evil the hair stood up on my neck.
Strange you could look about there was no movement save the mist and the trees stood as if watching and waiting for something. Then the relief as I saw the reflection of the now setting moon on the chrome bumper of the car as a brief gap in the fog formed.
The cold spot was investigated during the day and out on that sand and gravel bar it was always colder and sound seemed deadened. Even in the daylight you felt it.
But we did however solve the mystery of the 'shots'.
The explosion was a phenomina from what are called "clay babies" natural concretions in clay that in this case was formed during the last ice age. The water trapped in the concretion super heats then explodes throwing red hot fragments out. Frightening the heck out of dumb a******
that should have known better.
The area on the 'middle fork' that we decided to stop at had a rock formation hidden in the hills nearby, that according to tradition was made from the hair of some sisters abducted by 'spirits from the moon' to be their brides.
The women grew their hair long and made a rope in order to climb down from the moon and they pulled the rope down so as to stop the 'spirits' from following. The hair fell and made the rocks.
Oh the name of the tribe the women come from translates to "Childern of the Moon." or Snoqualmie.
The broken half circle of mountain called Mount Si, is supposed to be a portion of the moon that fell from the sky. It was called "Twin Peaks" on TV.
The name of the river is also the Snoqualmie and the famous satquatch tracks were made in the 80's by a good, and very drunk friend of mine. Who cut off some old cross counrty skies and made a plywood feet nailed to it and on the bottom was cardboard, cause even a drunk knows a plywood print has to have something on it.
Lubricated with Jack Daniels he puts them on his feet only to discover the stiff plywood feet caused him spring board, in a marvelous show of luck and dexterity to wind up making huge drunken strides into the river. Where he barely survived drowning with those monstrosites attached to his feet only to finally remove them 40 yards down stream and drag his wet self out onto the rocks.
News crews, researchers, plaster castings, and a very drunk wet friend. Now you cannot say that is not scary.
You know Twin Peaks was filmed in part there and in that year about 8 miles away Ted Bundy' first victims were found. And the truth about the cherry pies made famous during the filming was, made from a can. Ted continued his terror for many years to come.
