Festus
05-14-2007, 12:47 AM
I thought I'd post this for anyone thinking about Death Valley for some of their work. This is another story Uncle Booger told me that I found interesting, I hope you do too.
DEATH VALLEY
A place I visited often was Death Valley. The first time I went there was just out of curiousness. Heard tell about it. I had the time, so I went there. I went and got myself hooked on it.
There’s a beauty to that place that’s hard to explain. There’s the solitude there that a man, especially an old war veteran like me, can get some healing from some bad memories.
From what I’d heard, there were no people, no water and it was just a place to go to if you wanted to risk dying. I heard a lot of bull, is what I heard.
Let’s start out with water. There’s plenty of water to survive on there. If you know where to go. My first trip there, I was lucky and fell in with a feller that camped out there a lot. He gave me a tour that covered most points of interest, especially water.
Lack of people? More bull there. Maybe they’re a mite thin now, but there has been a sight of people living in Death Valley. You wouldn’t rightly believe the ghost towns scattered around and in it. Some had hundreds of residents.
One ghost town in particular, Rhyolite, had around ten thousand residents. they’d had all the fixings any other town of that size had, and probably a few more.
Most of them old ghost towns were built around or because of mining in the area. They dug them up a sight of gold, copper, and lead. Do you remember them old westerns advertised by twenty mule team Borax? Yep, it was hauled out of Death Valley by them twenty mule teams. Most of them old mines are closed now and are just ruins. But it just goes to show you that survival in Death Valley was more than possible.
I’ve lost track of how many times I visited Death Valley. Often I stayed for weeks, sometimes for months. I got to know and love, that place pretty doggone good.
Now you seen them old movies of fellers lost out in that valley with no water and nothing to eat. Well, I done told you that if you know where to look, there’s water a-plenty.
As for something to eat, let me give you a little run-down on the critters I’ve seen there. Black tailed jack rabbits, desert cottontail rabbits, bobcats, horses, desert big horned sheep, mountain lions, burro’s and mule deer.
Now this ain’t counting all kinds of mice, foxes, squirrels, bats, rats and other varmints there. Point is, there’s enough game there to survive on, should a man take the time to seek it out.
Son, it was the beauty, the sheer beauty, of that place that kept drawing me back. It wasn’t just the changing desert, nor the mountains, caves, little valleys within it, nor the old ghost towns and ruins. It was the sum total of all that and then some. There is a peace in that place that I just can’t describe in the proper words to you.
If you never just sat and watched the sun come up in the morning, then come back to watch it go down in the evening in that valley, then you’ve missed some beauty that I can’t describe to you. You’d need to see it for yourself. The colors and shadows will take your breath away.
Indians had lived in that valley before white men ever laid eyes on it. There’s traces of ‘em scattered all around. There is this one little valley in there that folks claim is hainted, that you can hear the ghosts and haints a-moaning and carrying on in there. Supposed to have been Indians that had been brutally murdered in the long ago. Lots of folks I met wouldn’t set foot in there on a bet, none of the local Indians I met would.
Well, I’ve only seen one ghost in my life. That was Pa, shortly after he died. He showed up at the foot of my bed, looking mournful at me for a bit. Then he disappeared. I know I was awake and I know what I saw.
This here hainted valley got my interest up. I wanted to see what was in there. Maybe piles of skeletons of them slaughtered Indians or some of their old houses, arrowheads and spears. No telling what I’d find in there.
So I strapped on my pistol and filled a couple of canteens up. Drove up as close to it as I could and went down into it. I weren’t afraid a bit, just curious........ and cautious.
Well, I got down in it and didn’t find any human skeletons, though I did find a few of animals that had died there. No signs of a battle of any kind. I went into a couple of caves that had old, old smoke on the ceilings from campfires. There was some faded Indian pictures on some rocks, here and there.
But then I heard the moaning and groaning.
Now it scairt me just a little bit when it started up. I had me a darn good pistol on me, but what was that to a haint? It already being dead and not having anything for that bullet to mess up. I had figured out long ago if I was kilt by a haint, that would make me one, too. Then me and that haint would go around and around on even terms.
I started thinking that I hadn’t heard a trace of that moaning and groaning till a bit of wind had started to blow in there. I looked around a bit more.
Well, I found what was causing that moaning and groaning, and it weren’t haints. First there was them caves scattered around all over the place. The wind would blow by their mouths and that made some of the racket. The rest was caused by hollows and holes in the stones. I think most of them were natural, but the Indians may have carved a few of them. The wind would hit all them together and there was your moaning and groaning.
I was out of there before dark. It just didn’t appeal to me as a camping spot. I felt pretty good about finding the truth out about that hainted valley.
Another piece of cow patty that you’ve heard is that there ain’t no plants growing there. Just like it ain’t never supposed to rain there, neither. Well, both of them things just ain’t so.
I’ve seen that desert after a heavy rain, just plumb carpeted with the prettiest flowers you’d ever want to see in every color you can imagine and mister, they are some beautiful.
One of them Park Ranger fellers I ran into told me that there were over a thousand different plants that lived in that valley, thirteen different types of catus, and over twenty types of plants that only grow in Death Valley.
Some of the plants growing there a body can eat, too. There’s a kind of buckwheat, seed, nuts and even fruit that can be had. Some of is right tasty, too.
You’ve see the story on TV about them moving rocks? Well, I’ve seen the trails made by them. Only a fool would think that they were caused by anything but water and wind. Them trails are dried mud.
Son, I’ve just told you a few of the things I’ve seen and know about that there Death Valley. I’d love to take you there, but it’s too late for that now.
But if you ever get a chance to go, take it. Remember me as you see those marvels that are everywhere there.
DEATH VALLEY
A place I visited often was Death Valley. The first time I went there was just out of curiousness. Heard tell about it. I had the time, so I went there. I went and got myself hooked on it.
There’s a beauty to that place that’s hard to explain. There’s the solitude there that a man, especially an old war veteran like me, can get some healing from some bad memories.
From what I’d heard, there were no people, no water and it was just a place to go to if you wanted to risk dying. I heard a lot of bull, is what I heard.
Let’s start out with water. There’s plenty of water to survive on there. If you know where to go. My first trip there, I was lucky and fell in with a feller that camped out there a lot. He gave me a tour that covered most points of interest, especially water.
Lack of people? More bull there. Maybe they’re a mite thin now, but there has been a sight of people living in Death Valley. You wouldn’t rightly believe the ghost towns scattered around and in it. Some had hundreds of residents.
One ghost town in particular, Rhyolite, had around ten thousand residents. they’d had all the fixings any other town of that size had, and probably a few more.
Most of them old ghost towns were built around or because of mining in the area. They dug them up a sight of gold, copper, and lead. Do you remember them old westerns advertised by twenty mule team Borax? Yep, it was hauled out of Death Valley by them twenty mule teams. Most of them old mines are closed now and are just ruins. But it just goes to show you that survival in Death Valley was more than possible.
I’ve lost track of how many times I visited Death Valley. Often I stayed for weeks, sometimes for months. I got to know and love, that place pretty doggone good.
Now you seen them old movies of fellers lost out in that valley with no water and nothing to eat. Well, I done told you that if you know where to look, there’s water a-plenty.
As for something to eat, let me give you a little run-down on the critters I’ve seen there. Black tailed jack rabbits, desert cottontail rabbits, bobcats, horses, desert big horned sheep, mountain lions, burro’s and mule deer.
Now this ain’t counting all kinds of mice, foxes, squirrels, bats, rats and other varmints there. Point is, there’s enough game there to survive on, should a man take the time to seek it out.
Son, it was the beauty, the sheer beauty, of that place that kept drawing me back. It wasn’t just the changing desert, nor the mountains, caves, little valleys within it, nor the old ghost towns and ruins. It was the sum total of all that and then some. There is a peace in that place that I just can’t describe in the proper words to you.
If you never just sat and watched the sun come up in the morning, then come back to watch it go down in the evening in that valley, then you’ve missed some beauty that I can’t describe to you. You’d need to see it for yourself. The colors and shadows will take your breath away.
Indians had lived in that valley before white men ever laid eyes on it. There’s traces of ‘em scattered all around. There is this one little valley in there that folks claim is hainted, that you can hear the ghosts and haints a-moaning and carrying on in there. Supposed to have been Indians that had been brutally murdered in the long ago. Lots of folks I met wouldn’t set foot in there on a bet, none of the local Indians I met would.
Well, I’ve only seen one ghost in my life. That was Pa, shortly after he died. He showed up at the foot of my bed, looking mournful at me for a bit. Then he disappeared. I know I was awake and I know what I saw.
This here hainted valley got my interest up. I wanted to see what was in there. Maybe piles of skeletons of them slaughtered Indians or some of their old houses, arrowheads and spears. No telling what I’d find in there.
So I strapped on my pistol and filled a couple of canteens up. Drove up as close to it as I could and went down into it. I weren’t afraid a bit, just curious........ and cautious.
Well, I got down in it and didn’t find any human skeletons, though I did find a few of animals that had died there. No signs of a battle of any kind. I went into a couple of caves that had old, old smoke on the ceilings from campfires. There was some faded Indian pictures on some rocks, here and there.
But then I heard the moaning and groaning.
Now it scairt me just a little bit when it started up. I had me a darn good pistol on me, but what was that to a haint? It already being dead and not having anything for that bullet to mess up. I had figured out long ago if I was kilt by a haint, that would make me one, too. Then me and that haint would go around and around on even terms.
I started thinking that I hadn’t heard a trace of that moaning and groaning till a bit of wind had started to blow in there. I looked around a bit more.
Well, I found what was causing that moaning and groaning, and it weren’t haints. First there was them caves scattered around all over the place. The wind would blow by their mouths and that made some of the racket. The rest was caused by hollows and holes in the stones. I think most of them were natural, but the Indians may have carved a few of them. The wind would hit all them together and there was your moaning and groaning.
I was out of there before dark. It just didn’t appeal to me as a camping spot. I felt pretty good about finding the truth out about that hainted valley.
Another piece of cow patty that you’ve heard is that there ain’t no plants growing there. Just like it ain’t never supposed to rain there, neither. Well, both of them things just ain’t so.
I’ve seen that desert after a heavy rain, just plumb carpeted with the prettiest flowers you’d ever want to see in every color you can imagine and mister, they are some beautiful.
One of them Park Ranger fellers I ran into told me that there were over a thousand different plants that lived in that valley, thirteen different types of catus, and over twenty types of plants that only grow in Death Valley.
Some of the plants growing there a body can eat, too. There’s a kind of buckwheat, seed, nuts and even fruit that can be had. Some of is right tasty, too.
You’ve see the story on TV about them moving rocks? Well, I’ve seen the trails made by them. Only a fool would think that they were caused by anything but water and wind. Them trails are dried mud.
Son, I’ve just told you a few of the things I’ve seen and know about that there Death Valley. I’d love to take you there, but it’s too late for that now.
But if you ever get a chance to go, take it. Remember me as you see those marvels that are everywhere there.