The Secret Garden

"Little Flippy ?"

Banging my empty cup upon the table, "If I may Lady" then went on to explain that this ghastly weird thing upon our table was not only Art, but a rendition of a Flip, cast, displayed and honored as a tribute to True Old Friendship. Flip threatened to make Charlie eat it for breakfast.

Guy laughed out - " I want what ever that man is drinking or taking" pointing at Charlie who was pouring a small amount of rum over the melted plastic Potato Head mouth which was inserted where a hat should be. An act that may of been symbolic.

Claudia took a few quick sips from her drink, then turned to The Bear, engaging with him abit of flirty smalltalk and asked about the leg injury.

He lied "Did it on a hike, last week" then quaffed deeply from his horn and told the truth - "No that's not what happen, I kicked in a bar window, and screwed up my ankle, but the Doc says it will mend fine if I don't kick anything else for awhile" He then raised his drinking horn in the Dibble's direction with a grin.

"Are you a Biker ?"

To which he replied - "Nope, just somebody who doesn't like getting jerked around at a bar"

Thinking he got off with a well placed jab, R.W. blurted - "Yeah his Woman didn't want him to head up here with his ankle like that, but I assured her we'd take good care of Bear. He failed to see the dangerous flicker in the Teuton's grey eyes..

"All you guys married ?" Claudia asked looking about our band. Which Guy answered while toasting Mildred "This Guy is " With feigned laughter we raised our cups.

"I'm single enough" stated Denny followed by R.W. coyly asking of her needs.

She turned to Charlie and I, "Well what about you guys,I'm sure such a talented artist and his spokesman have a good woman at home as a inspiration and driving force"

"That's me" I said, "Not even for a full year yet, but the Artist here is not attached"

"To not much at all, or at least things I know about" added The Bear.

'Oh boy' I thought, hopefully she's just being friendly and not trying to hook up with none of these Kats as things were not weird enough already.

Hopefully the Dibbles were clean and disease free, and none of the rest of us would lose enough inhibitions rendering honest loyal men to dogs. Maybe if I stopped looking down her low cut tank top everytime she leaned forward I'd be in the clear. The Bear along with the others had gave her more than glance as well.

The conversation or what was left of it shifted to our geographical location, as we talked of past journeys, camps and the nearby large upland meadow they were planning to visit tomorrow. "Why don't you guys come with us ?" Mildred asked, then out of the blue something totally unexpected occured..

We had either forgot or had not noticed when Flip stuck what was left of our earlier rolled wonder into a knothole low on the table's support broard he found shortly after the # was layed down. Perhaps hording it for later. Anyway it had slipped everyone else's minds with the exception of Flip and one other. Either by drunken impulse or a pressing deliberateness Charlie fished the 'roach' from that hole with a toothpick much the way a Chimpanzee catches Termites using a saliva coated twig. The act did not register in our substance addled minds until he exhaled a stream of smoke and passed it Claudia's way, who to my amazement said - "We were thinking about asking, but now there's no need" then double toked the doobie and passed it to me while I was getting my trusty Aligator clip out of the kit-bag. Clipped up and re-lit I had a go, before passing it over to Guy saying "You wanted some of what he was taking" jerking my thumb in Charlie's direction. "But I cannot say it'll get you to the same place."

" That far away, huh ?" Guy asked, before going at it like an old timer.

"So close, yet so far" The Bear put his two cents in. Guy passed then passed it to Mildred who declined but said she would try some tomorrow while not drinking.

Still I was amazed watching folk a few years shy of my own parents getting stoned with us. Could of been a Kodak Moment.

"So y'all smoke weed ?" the words popped out without a thought and surely by this time was a stupid question.

Claudia laughed - "Not us, No way !" Guy added a "Us ?" then told our band they had been smoking Marijuana since the 50s Beat Era as it went well with Jazz. "We didn't mess with it much throughout our careers and child rasing. But now retired with baby birds grown, flying and out of the nest we and a few other friends smoke it because it makes us feel good. Besides it helps eases Mildred's arthritis" He went on to say "We have a little at the Pop-Up, but I don't think it is good as this reefer."

After blowing out what was left of his second toke I got up and tapped his shoulder - "Feeling good yet Guy ?"

I could tell the weed was creeping up on Claudia and Guy as it did with us, but much swifter as they had mixed smoke and strong drink. Claudia was swaying to the music, issuing soft "weeeeeee" noises, while Guy began jabbering away a mile a minute. We could hardly keep up with him. 'Well shit', I thought they're already almost up there off just a couple of tokes, 'Good Shit'.

"Flip" I requested, "Twist up a regular for our good neighbors, they didn't get much off that last one"

Being his stingy self - "Mine's all packed up man"

"Well unpack abit of it, we'll wait"

Looking around and seeing all glassy eyes were upon him, he got up from our table, then went inside his tent. Flip was rather parsimonious when it came to his money and weed.

"Tightwad", R.W. said under his breath. Some moments later the BirdMan emerged from his tent, not with his usual toothpick-sized pinjoint, but a stub as big around as a thumb. Tossing it at me he grunted "Here"
Catching the number I handed to Claudia with a butane flame follow-up.

"Didn't want you to go all out Flip" I stated, "Hope you saved some for yourself"

Drawing in upon this fresh one and holding it in for abit, then exhaling she proclaimed - "This tastes like hash and kicks like a Georgia Mule" She passed it to The Bear who refused, but was kind enough to pass the burning # Guy's way.

It went around 3 more times before it was layed down, picked up and stuffed into the knothole only to be almost forgotten again..

The fire built up, hardwood catching,
our cheerful eyes reflecting light.
Night's Upland Fog thickening -
obscuring Moon and Stars from sight.

Much good cheer so near all involved -
cups clash with amber splash drinching hands
as celebration sets the mood for now
by our fire in the Blue Ridge Highlands.



"I don't even want to hear that fucking name again" Charlie's normal happy visage had turned to one of grimace thus ending a short lived political conversation. Guy had brought up the current president's name not knowing that Reagan had cut a Federal Funded, on the job training where Charlie was learning National Park maintenance shooting down one of the few good futures a man of his integrity had in front of him.

He hated 'Dutch' Reagan with a passion, and after losing this budding career took too much to the Highlife for his own good.

Having enough political prattle for such pleasant conditions, other than the fog, we proceeded to tell stories. Stories of Ghosts, vanishings, fearsome critters, drinking bouts, fishing trips and weird substance induced humor. The Bear even shared a couple of savage bar-battle tales along with the time over ten years ago when he saved a local Police Lieutentant's wayward, partied-up teenage daughters from being violated by a pack of sotted-up yokels during a large overnight camp out-celebration at Frogs Pond in upper Hampton. A teenager then himself with a bolo knife in one hand and a smuggled Coors in the other he drove them away. A symbolic standing of ground, large blade representing war, while the cold beer represented 'get the fuck gone so we can drink in peace'.

None of these bravos wanted to chance a visit to the Emergency Room, or worse, so they wisely removed themselves from our grove.

The Great Bear gave them a choice to weigh-out in their drunken heads, yet after they departed he took out his small amount of berserk fury upon a tall dead stump, hacking it into splinters while issuing howls and growls.

Abit later him and I had to take the brush when these girls father arrived at the pond looking
for his daughters. We lost 2 good tents and a cooler of beer, but escaped with wholeskin..

For over a decade he was still proud of his deed. I raised my cup in cheer - "After a half-night's romance with you, the thought of getting gang-raped by crazy-drunks and for all your noble chivary 'Terri' is living a happy life as a Lesbian" The Bear shifted his gaze to the ground. "And her sister 'Patti' is now a erotic dancer at Bucks Brand Go-Go Bar" Flip added with a wolf-whistle.

"Yep, their daddy ran off good suiters that night" The Bear laughed.

Flip then informed us -

"She dances on Thursdays and Fridays"

Guy Entertained us with some stories of watering-hole mayhem experienced while in his younger years down at Richmond during the 1940s

"Hey what's that stand for ?" Denny asked reaching way across our table, pointing at a red star pinned to Claudia's denim jacket. She smilled then rolled her eyes - and sang - "You can trust your Czar to the Woman who wears the Star......"

It reminded me of what the Maoists adorned their caps with. In abit of jest I toasted her -

"Comrades !" which then she replied with a rasied cup - "Power to the People baby !" everyone but The Lame Bear stood with beverages extended and shouted "And to us !"
Being above the Shenandoah Valley, Bear added - "And to Thomas 'Stonewall' Jackson, defender of the Valley !" which brought about a few loud hurrahs. Filling my cup with a good measure of Whisky I then cheered my home state "To Virginia" then Charlie attemted to belt out 'Carry me back to'... but ceased as he could not remember the lyrics..

Unlike Flip and Charlie, the rest of us once had far roving feet. We all had traveled alot of the country sometimes alone, other times in the company of at least one other of our band.
We ended up short staying in lands such as Ohio, Kentucky, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California, yet always returned to the Old Dominion. Now our far-ranging days were all but over. Still tales of these journeys made for some good memories and better hootched-up Campfire Tales as Denny pulled back some hair to expose or display a nick taken away from his upper left ear by pistol shot several years ago in a Texas bar room outside of
San Antonio. He had the misfortune of being in the way of a bullet intended for his brother spoiling some brush-popper's aim. I thought about showing an old stab wound scar, but decided against it. Funny, growing up in a rough neighborhood in Hampton without so much than a bruise or scratch, (not counting getting shot through the leg with a 22 long by a drunken hunting companion) It wasn't until I moved to the cultural hub of Williamsburg some Kat decided to stick a knife in me.

Before the party conversation turned into naught but drunken brawl sagas I asked in a loud tone - "Anybody for some Mescal ?" slightly shaking the bottle making the worm dance.. Claudia, Charlie and R.W. allowed me to fill their cups. But for now I was over the Vodka and in the Whisky..

By all Gods both Light and Dark ! We could go at it back then like well seasoned topers and still manage to barely walk. We knew upon standing and taking those first few steps if there was to be a topple - Lean backwards and land on your butt as a large exposed rock or Oak root can make a mess out of one's face.


I remember Claudia wanting to dance. Flip obliged and they 'cut the dust' to a slow song until Charlie cut in. Three sheets into the wind and light upon his feet, the two of them swirling about in a close embrace..

Walkingsticks


At first it appeared Flip was scowling because his time in the reel with Claudia was cut short by Charlie's bold advance, but that was not the case. I could tell by his color and the grim pathos playing out in the BirdMan's hard blinking, bloodshot eyes he was getting ready to 'upchuck' hopefully not all over us. Flip slowly removed himself from between table and bench and staggered over to the edge of the camplight. Head in a downward position and still as a wilting statue, his blurry gaze was upon the ground. Perhaps the dance was abit too long for his system to stand. Now he was 'talking to the bugs'. Getting up, dodging Claudia and Charlie I went to see if the boy was gonna make it and if so, take it beyond sight and earshot.


"Problems ?"

Flip - "OOAAAWWWWah"


"Here man" I said holding my cup of Whisky under his beak-like nose - "Have a drink of this and you'll feel better"

Flip - "URRRRRRROOOO"

Looking down I spotted a large twig-shaped inscet known in these parts as a Walkingstick as it looked like a stick with legs. "Talking to the Bugs are we ?" Again I stuck strong drink under his snout but this time escorting him outwards abit.

Flip - "OHHHAAARG" his torso heaved and convulsed as I leaped back just in time not to be splattered by a torrent of projectile vomiting. Only after being on empty did Flip crumple down onto stone, dirt, leaves and GumTree spiked seed pods. We call them Gumballs.

I was kind enough to fetch his sleeping bag and cover this ailing man up against any night chill.

Ode to the fallen, where they land is where they rest or until snacked upon by BlackBears or Ants in the wee hours of morn. No they wouldn't mess with him laying beside a puddle of toxic spew..

As Claudia and Charlie's dance moved them ever forward to the loop-road, Mildred and Guy bid us goodnight then stumbled off towards their Pop-Up.
Watching them leave, then having a look at the dancing couple, R.W. rubbed an index finger under his nose thus making the 'smelly finger sign' while uttering - "Mahtuteeeewah"

We lost sight of our dancing friends in the dim foggy-dark.

"Odd" remarked Denny, popping an asprin, chasing it down with warm ale "How she took a fancy to the youngest of us"
and I threw in - "25 going on 12, why he's just a baby"
"A backwards baby boy at that" The Bear added, laying his horn down for the night.

Although it seemed clear to us Claudia had a good head upon those smooth shoulders. She no doubt wanted to keep it simple and what better choice of close companionship could be found among us than happy-go-lucky Chucky. Being somewhat Bohemian, but of what good standards will allow when in the embrace of substance altered passion Claudia wanted to have a good-ol-time without getting overly involved with boozed-up married men or any weird competition trip romping with 'Romulus and Remus'.

Out of the fog we heard their laughter.

With the passing of another hour what was left of us moving and able, secured our supplies, staggered to our tents, leaving Flip upon the Earth Mother's Bosom and all others to Nature's mercy and kindness.
Sharing a tent with the BirdMan was won on a roll of the dice as he did not snore hardly and had trouble passing a fart. Now it was even better having the tent to myself. I fell into a deep, dark, dreamless, sodden slumber..

An unexpected addition to our ranks.


I awoke to the stench of vomit, a ray of blinding daylight and something kicking my foot, yelling in a drill instructor-like tone "GET THE FUCK UP !" Rubbing sure sight back into my burning eyes I attempted to deliver a crackling voice grumble through a parched throat and around my booze pickled tongue. " Oh fuck, I'd know that voice through all 10 hells"

A hand reached in the opening grasping Flip's ankle in a hard twist, yet with scant results. The BirdMan must of crawled in while I lay in a coma-like sleep just as he did now.

The tent flap was thrown to the side flooding the tent with Day's Light until blocked to some degree by a squatting figure.

In the tongue of Our People he extended greeting - "HAAUURNT!"
Clad like most of us in jeans and a Tshirt all was seemingly normal and although it was not all that cool outside he wore a heavy, multi-pocketed drab green Army surplus coat.
Lean, fine featured with long blond hair banged off at the brow where below burned a pair of demented brown eyes.

It was Whitey, the neighborhood maniac.

Don't walk out into the streets at Night
or traverse down wooded paths alone.
Carry you a weapon and good light
or lock your doors and stay at home.

While relaxing peacefully by the lake,
he'll pelt you with deftly tossed stones.
A six-pack of beer and on the make,
he'll jump your girlfriend's bones.

Just ask Flip.

"What the hell are you doing here man ?" I demanded putting on my shoes, then pushing him out of the way making way to the cooler for something cold and wet. "I thought you were still doing weekends at the county jail"

"Those assholes let me out early with time served because they needed the space for the hard cases" He returned, pulling a Tall-Boy 16oz Bud from one of his large coat pockets.

"What the fuck is wrong with Buzzard Boy, he looks dead ?" He asked, swilling down his beer, tossing his empty can inside the tent at Flip, then fishing through our cooler for something else to drink. "Fuck man, all you drink is this imported shit, not a Bud in the bunch, I guess I'll have to drink this crap" he complained, holding aloft a bottle of my fine Ale.

"You no-culture piece of crud, put it back if it ain't down to your low standards !" I barked, hurling an almost empty red plactic drinking cup at him.

"No, no I'll drink your ale" he grunted popping the top on our table, then chugging a fair amount down and beyond. "Real high dollar Panther piss here, at least it's cold. He downed the rest and grabbed another before I could even offer - "Well just help yourself "

And that he did..

Seeing his 67 Dodge Pickup parked only a hair's breath behind The Bear's Ford , I inquired -
"Didn't you just get out of the pokey for driving without a license/multiple offense ?"

" I didn't drive " he said pointing to the Great Bear's Tent "She's in there talking with BooBoo Bear"

"She ?"

She emerged from the tent followed by The Bear whom she helped along as if he was a complete cripple.

"Ahhh, we were just reflecting upon past shared times with you, and Flip told us of your current professional life, It's been a few years Patti" She bounded over for an embrace.
"Jimmy, good to see you, 'Kris' said you guys would be up here and got me to make the drive" Only about 5'3" yet well built, dark of hair and pale blue of eye she had grown into fine young womanhood. A good thing for now that both Dibbles and Flip were drifting about in the misty Sapphire-hued realm of forgotten dreams. Charlie was missing in action.
We later found out that by chance, Whitey had bumped into her at Bucks after she had danced her last set and was counting her bestowed 'tips' at the bar. She was planning to high-tail it out of town following the break-up with her sometimes speed-whacked biker boyfriend of the last 6 months. Whitey had found out by way of Charlie's folks, he along with the rest of us were camped here at BigMeadows. She no doubt mentioned to Whitey about needing to split the scene, where upon he hit on the swiftly thoughtout plan of heading up here, not a soul back in town knowing their whereabouts. Patti had packed a couple of blankets and several changes of clothing, while Whitey had but the clothes on his back and a now finished six-pack of double whack..

Nothing better than having the best of Upland Camping experiences. Old Neighborhood Friends. A Topless Dancer, a WereBear Berserker, a puke smeared lightweight, Charlie, The Brothers Dibble and three hard-hard partying senior citizens. We were well stocked with recreational supplies. Wondering where to put our new arrivals, I asked - "Where's your tent ?"

They had no lodging other than Whitey's Truck, The Great Bear suggested we could move some stuff out of the supply tent thus allowing them a place to bed down.

Ready to move the Booze into Flip's tent, while Bear started coffee, I unzipped our supply tent's door flap only to come upon Charlie and Claudia wrapped up together in a spare sleeping bag, other items moved aside allowing them a narrow bed space.

"Lookee here Bear who's warm and love-snuggled in the Supply Tent" I laughed.

"Kinda figured they were nesting up in there after hearing sounds coming from that direction around 3:30 in the morning, by the time I got up,went out to take a leak there was no one to be seen out and about" Bear informed us. "Let em sleep it off for awhile" I said, then asked Patti and Whitey - "What about you, had any sleep ?" Whitey in the jargon of our people explained he and Patti had checked in late at a Motel in Afton, yet after a waking hang-up call to their room and a long passing paranoid thought about her biker ex, the two of them checked out early heading up the SkyLine Drive..

After barely excusing myself I walked out of camp for a nature break.

Finishing business,then trudging back through the underbrush I heard Bear talking about going down into Luray for supplies. Whitey said he would remain at camp, but Patti wanted to come along and chipped in a good amount of money for the cause. She handed me a large roll of 1s and 5s. "They let me dance on a Saturday because one of the other dancers had a bad rash of some sort" she continued "Saturday evenings, not so good, most of the regulars are either tapped out, hungover or both after Friday Night" I removed the rubberband, unrolled her takings, then counted. "253 bucks" I proclaimed. "Yeah kinda of shitty for a Saturday" she added. The Great Bear let out a long whistling note - "253 dollars, not too shabby for a few hours at Bucks Brand. Damn ! that's half a weeks wages for me " Patti giggled, and with a quick shake of her money makers leaned over to give Bear a kiss upon his furry cheek. - "Say the word and I'll talk to Buck about letting you dance on Mondays" Issuing a catcall I slapped his back and called him 'Dancing Bear' "Shake it Baby !"

The Great Bear knew Patti, her sister, 2 brothers very well as did Charlie, Flip and myself. Even though her Father Joe Martini was with the Police Department, he earned our respect as being a good cop, not like some of the other assholes we have had dealings with..

The showerhouse was not at all busy that morning allowing me to breeze through the 3 Ss with scant problems. Well the shower would change from warm to scalding, then freezing cold. At least there was water pressure and no clogged toilets fouling the air.

Sitting on a small wooden bench tying my shoes I heard the sound of dragging feet. Looking up I beheld a hideous sight.

One side of his hair was sticking straight up, stiffened no doubt by dried vomit, the very same foul stuff which coated one lens of Flip's glasses and part of that weird shirt. And upon his puke harden pinnacle of hair, a bandana looped around like someone's successful ring toss. "Thanks for leaving me in the dirt last night" he sneered, placing his shower gear and clothing change on another bench inside the stall. "Don't mention it" I returned, "Didn't want to disturb you while in your larvae stage"

"What the hell is Whitey doing here, who invited that asshole up ?" Flip demanded.
"Guess Charlie's folks told him we were here and so he and Patti made the drive up"
"Then he's staying with us ?"
"Yeah we're going make them room in the supply tent"
"I hope they're gonna chip in some bucks",,

I looked at this puke covered apparation and grunted in pure disgust - "Shit man, better break one of those Benny Franklins you've been harping about and chip in your damn self ! Besides her and Whitey together have offerd to put 300 dollars or so into the hat and plan to stay until Thursday morning"

"Well shit man" Flip said "If they're putting in that much, then we don't need to spend alot of cash at Luray today"
"Wrong Buzzard Boy" I corrected, "You can fork over one of those hundreds now, for your share"
"A hundred for my share ?" he croaked.
"Thats right, 100 bucks, cause you ain't put nothing in yet for the 8 Nights here, food and all that booze you consumed, then puked all over yourself last night. Besides I don't think we need their whole 300 dollars, they're gonna get change back"

Getting his share I told him to burn his fouled duds and walked out wondering if the Birdman could ever get over his loss. What amazed me was how swiftly he gave it up, when usually getting Flip to pitch in was like pulling eyeteeth. Over the years it became almost like a ritual always ending in Flip's symbolic handing over his share, followed by much celebration. But today the BirdMan cheated us out of our Grand Ceremony. Charlie would take this news badly.

Perhaps this change of habits was the result of having neighbors visting, along with our 2 new arrivals, including a hometown girl turned stripper. Maybe he didn't want the embarassment of appearing like his true self, a tightwad. I pondered upon this matter all the way back to camp and came to a conclusion of maybe it was better as there were others going to be present who are not of our band..

hi ya long hunter........i´ve been gone for awhile and i see that i have a lot of catching up to do here.......
thanks for sharing your memories with us.........

zuni wrote:

hi ya long hunter........i´ve been gone for awhile and i see that i have a lot of catching up to do here.......
thanks for sharing your memories with us.........

Well Thankyou, hope you had a good time away. Will be splitting tomorrow myself as mentioned earlier. Up around Sherando. The Great Bear, Flip and me, trying Back Creek for Trout.

Everyone has a story or three inside of them

Enjoy your time away Dusk..no doubt another story shall surface in elevated and dignified language.

... others among us who may not understand.

Entering our slow to wake encampment it was hard to suppress my laughter while thinking how our Neighbors will interact with a fellow who in his teenage years would slip into an enemy's home when no one was there, eat their food, have a beer or two, then before departing, take a crap either on a bed chamber or living room floor complete with toilet paper garnish and topped off by some cherished household knick-knack. He bragged once of placing a small collectable porcelain shoe on a pile of his fecal matter in the bedroom of some Kat who ripped him off on a bag of grass. He called his creation 'ShitKicker' Then there was Patti, an exotic dancer, who like the others of her trade would do private shows, and perhaps turn a trick or two. But that was work and this is Vacation. All and all she was a good gal, cheerful of nature and perhaps more sociable than a good many of us in this Heathen Band. Surely things would go along fine. Claudia,Mildred and Guy had already shared our Fire seemingly not at all taken aback by us. Hell, Claudia and Charlie no doubt already had overly friendly close relations..

Reunite wrote:

Enjoy your time away Dusk..no doubt another story shall surface in elevated and dignified language.

Thanks. Understandably my memories of these past mini-festivals are somewhat blurry.

This Celebration should go beyond any strange and scared seasonal Ceremony we normally took part in. I'm sure Whitey will naught but charm our guests. With a job in the ShipYard and already having his fair share of legal troubles,Whitey had outgrown most of these weird pranks of deranged youth. Yet there remained a demented gleem in his poo-brown eyes. Ahhh, this would prove to be a Night to remember.

The Dibble Brothers were still sleeping it off, no sign of Mildred and Guy. Our December to January lovers were just now stirring into waking life while I jotted down orders upon a notebook as it seemed The Bear and I would be making this supply run into Luray, with Patti coming along to help the lameTeuton. Bear had no problem with this as he seemed to enjoy all the attention.


It was Sunday and that meant the local Virginia ABC packaging store would be closed, but we were still stocked well enough on Hard Spirits.

As we piled into the truck I reminded Bear - "Don't forget Flip's bag of Bugles corn snacks"
He growled - "He'll get a drinking horn upside his peanut head" Patti praised him - "When I was 12 Flip fixed the chain on my bike" The Bear asked - "Did he charge you for it ?"

Our trip to Luray was on the most part uneventful, but very scenic, driving along ridges, crossing over Hawksbill and Stoney Man Mountains then past the Panorama, then heading west down into the Shenandoah Valley. Driving Bear's truck due to his injury I passed town for a few quick casts in the River. Hooking a snag and losing my only Smallmouth jig put an end to today's angling as I forgot my tacklebox..

Turning around we headed into town.

Luray as well as the rest of the Valley had a long history. Humans had lived along the Shenandoah for thousands of years, since Paleo Times preying off herds of Mastodon, Camel-like Creatures, Deer, Elk and Woodland Bison, the latter two long since hunted out.
These Clovis and Dalton Point Hunter-Gatherers were preyed upon by Giant Bears, Dire Wolves and various big Saber Tooth Cats. After thousands of years alot of the big fauna died out and these people 'found the corn', began to live in permanent villages and learned to make pottery. Their Woodland Period mounds along with scatterings of chipped stone tools and weapons laying among pottery shards can still be found throughout Virginia's Appalachian Hills, hollows and valleys.
With the arrival of English, Irish, Scot and German immigrants into The Shenandoah Valley and surrounding hills brought a end to what was left of Native Culture as local Tribes were ran off their lands or perished from European disease. Their lives and history all but fading to pale shades of lore or afternoon classroom discussion. Despite steading European Colonials, all through the late 17th century and half of the 18th The Valley and long ridge tops served as a Warriors Path for Iroqouis of the Five Nations to attack hill dwelling Siouan speaking Catawba and Yuchi, sometimes boldly entering the territory of their Iroqouian speaking Cherokee Kin.
Throughout later half of the 1750s there were raids into the Valley by combined parties of French, Lenape and Shawnee coming in from the Northwest.
The Great Valley saw her share of war between 1861 and 1865 ending with a large force of Federal Troops burning, looting, finishing by razing most all to the ground..

"What does Shenadoah mean" Patti wondered
"I've heard it means either Beautiful River at Night reflecting Stars, or Beautiful Star, maybe it's Iroquian as I read about how refugees of The Erie or Cat Nation fled down into these mountains after being driven away from their Great Lake villages by other Iroqouis of the Five Nations during The Beaver Wars. Shenandoah does has an Iroqouian sound about it" But someone else explained to me once that Shenandoah is an Iroqouian word, meaning -River Country of the Shawnees as a large band of these people lived in the Winchester area of the Valley. I suspect numerous different Tribes of Natives moved in and out of the Shenandoah. Now people from the D.C.-Northern Virginia sprawl were pushing into the Northern Valley, building recreational and bedroom communities. Ahhh the drifts of mankind.

"Beautiful Star" The Bear fondly expressed while gently grasping Patti's knee. For a Woman who danced damn near nekkid for a sweaty, stage-side gathering of drooling Horndogs, I was surprised to see her blush.

Taking our time in the grocery store, we carefully picked what was needed to substain. More steaks, some porkchops, a couple of birds, bacon, sausage, pancake mix, abit of milk and butter, seasonings, Lamb, rice, peas, veggies, along with 3 cases of Ale, a few six packs of German and Dutch brew and 3 cases of Whitey's favorite swill. I did pick up a few bottles of wine for our neighbors, 2 red and 1 white.. Patti picked up some personal items and bamboo Sish Kebab skewers..

Gathering enough store-bought ice, we managed to pack food items into our coolers then headed out eastward on Route 211 upwards onto the Skyline Drive. Having to obey the 35mph speed limit we had plenty of time to catch up with Patti's life since growing up and moving on. We learned her job not only allowed her to live somewhat well, but also payed for classes at Thomas Nelson Community College. We both asked "You make that much at Bucks ?" she told us she also did private parties "Private Bear reporting for duty maam !"
he said with a salute.
With abit of gentle prodding we found out her ex Biker Boyfriend was none other than Micky Tombs a jerkwad from North Hampton. He had the reputation of slipping crushed-up heavy duty downers into a date's drink and later in a secluded location have his way with the poor substance addled Lasses, with them remembering naught the next day. He left no tadpoles as it was wrapped up against the warm moisture. We called him Slipping Micky or Micky Slipping a Micky. I don't know how he got up with Patti as Tombs was a creep.

"He calls himself Badger now" Patti informed us.

The Bear issued a roar of laughter - "Badger, what kinda fucking biker name is that ?"

Patti sighed - "It fits him well, he has surley badgered the hell out of me, up at the bar sometimes with his whacked-out brother and friends every night I dance. Only reason he wasn't there Saturday was because he thought me to be off. I did have plans last night to go shopping with mom, but got called in instead" then with a worried look she said "He's still has a key to my place, I asked for it back but Mick keeps saying it was somewhere at his house and would hand it over as soon as he finds it". The Bear advised her to change locks..

We had fought against this Badger, his crazy brother and a couple of friends over them hurling drunken threats our way at SandyBottom Pond back in 75. A fray which went on for several minutes until Bear slammed Crazy Johnny hard against a large Pine Tree thus ending the fight as Badger's Brother crumbled-down, lights-out, see ya around sometime tomorrow if you ain't in the hospital. Thanks to my well placed elbow Micky would be sporting a crooked snout for the rest of his life or until surgery. We of Lynnhaven were known to leave lasting impressions upon folk, especially these North Hampton bravos.
That was not enough, We were disrespected on Neutral Ground namely the swimming hole at Sandy Bottom.
Shortly after that melee we mustered, sent invitations for our Buckroe Beach Allies to join forces with us for a march into North Hampton for answers, apologies and demanding of them promises of never violating the peace of Neutral Grounds.

We moved our horde through the neighborhood of North Hampton, but alas they gave us no showing as the Hetmen and other rascals dared not step outside their homes. A shallow victory for us. As for them, a humiliating defeat. But they never offered us malice again at the swimming hole..

LongHunter wrote:

Well Thankyou, hope you had a good time away. Will be splitting tomorrow myself as mentioned earlier. Up around Sherando. The Great Bear, Flip and me, trying Back Creek for Trout.

Everyone has a story or three inside of them

yes i had a quiet time for reflection.......thank you.....
i hope you get this message before you split......cause i want to wish you a good trip.......well you´ll recieve my thoughts either way.........

i also have stories inside of me but i find it difficult to comunicate them.....lol.... thats why you are truely an inspiration to me........

have fun on your adventure....sendin ya a big hug..........