IN THE BEND OF THE RIVER

[gipsy]

The opposite end of the state. Run right down there and pick up a couple. See you in two days.

[feralferret]

Oct 6, 2023 13:35:08 GMT -6 gipsy said:

The opposite end of the state. Run right down there and pick up a couple. See you in two days.

The closest to me are in Arkansas and Colorado.  Actually the one in Illinois is about as close.

Weinerschnitzel.com

BTW, they are part of the same company that also owns Tastee Freez.  The last one of those in this area closed about ten years ago.

[ncsfsgm]

Chapter 4


On the way to Winston- Salem the next morning, Seán stopped by Burl Harper’s place to ask him where he got his fuel from. Foster Fuels seemed to be the people to go to for his fuels.

Finding a dealer for Hughes satellite turned out to be no problem. After hearing what they could do, Seán ordered a 200-gigabyte fusion plan with VOIP. He could stream movies all day if he were so inclined. Thinking of Maggie and Grady, He added the Jupiter option that provided cellular connectivity. It added a Cell antenna and Maggie would have cellphone coverage through the satellite. Seán filled out the contract paperwork and the geographical coordinates. They would have to order the cell antenna portion but they could have the system in within 14 days. Next, Seán went to a nearby Walmart to buy what ammo he could. When he got out of his truck, Seán took out his cane too. Not that he needed it, but this place looked a little seedy. Seán was a graduate of the University of Pineland, Instructor emeritus, with a major in mayhem and a minor in communications. He was trained to use any available object as a weapon. When he was in rehab, he developed moves, incorporating the titanium parts of his leg in self-defense techniques. One of his moves was once described as him looking like one of those drinking bird toys, looking like Seán was bending over and all of a sudden his leg was whipping overhand and striking his target. Seán had developed the move to make it look as if he was off-balanced, possibly from a strike and trying to save himself. It took a while, especially to find a cup for his prosthetic device that would stay attached when his leg whipped over violently. He’d placed a couple of holes in walls practicing. He picked up some 9mm, 12 gauge, a couple of boxes of 22 ammo, and went to checkout. They double bagged his purchases and Seán headed for the door. As he neared his truck, a man came out between the cars and snatched at Seán’s cane. Seán let him have the cane, and a little more. In a move that looked like he’d stumbled, Seán’s left leg came seemingly over his left shoulder and hit the man in the top of the shoulder, dropping the man then and there. Thankfully, everything was captured by one of those security camera trailers in the parking lot and the police barely had to talk to him. Later, Seán was informed the man ended up with a broken clavicle, destroying the coracoid process and greater tubercle and dislocating the man’s left shoulder. It would take a while for him to get back on the streets to cause mischief. The only downside was taxpayer’s dollars would have to pay for the scumbag’s upkeep during his hospitalization. Six more inches to the right and all they would have had to pay for was a cemetery plot.

Seán finished his ammo purchases at Academy Sports, not pleased with the prices he was paying. He’d have to look into reloading in the future. Next door though, He bought a new laptop computer he would need. Seán stopped at a country restaurant and had a chicken and dumpling dinner before heading back home. Satisfied, he was heading out NC-52 when he saw a sign for DASolar.

The idea of solar power came up when the guy at Hughes mentioned the cell tower was powered by a battery and a PV panel. The thoughts of going off-grid rushed through his mind. Seán sat in the parking lot for a minute, gathering his thoughts. “Do I really want to do this?” Seán thought. Gazing out the windshield, he remembered times when the power had failed. Lamps were lit and another log thrown on the fire. If it was winter, he’d sometimes help move stuff out of the refrigerator to the table on the screened-in porch to keep them cool. The smell of lamp oil is heavy in the air. It really wasn’t that bad. The old radio still worked; it used two round six-volt batteries and WWVA out of Wheeling came in just fine. The problem was the power also went off during summer storms and there were a couple of times the milk went bad, or at least for regular drinking. Mama would figure out some way to use it. Her biscuits were still good. Seán quickly made up his mind and went in. Seán introduced himself to the receptionist and she called for someone to come meet him. He was taken into what he figured was a conference room and was given a spiel and a PowerPoint presentation on the benefits of alternative energy. Seán was soon completely won over, and more so when he saw they systems they could install for him. He’d already decided to add Maggie and Grady on a package. Seán signed up for them to come out to do a wind and solar evaluation, with the stipulation they could leave some equipment there to gather data to determine the mean solar and wind activity. Seán felt better when he left the company and headed on down VA-58. Before he could reach Mouth of Wilson, the overcast skies began spitting rain that turned into a steady drizzle and the fog began rolling in. His only stop was at a couple of roadside stands that sold raw apple cider. He bought six gallons and continued on home. He unloaded his purchases under the porte-cochère and left the truck and camper parked there. He remembered back when he had helped his daddy build it. Daddy had explained that back in the old days people would drive their carriages under there and get out without being bothered by the weather. He wanted to build it for Mamma because she left early every morning to head for the elementary school that used to be between them and Warrenton before they combined the schools. She taught school and did that until the school system consolidated. The new school was farther away than she wanted to drive every day. Daddy had bought her an old Willys Station Wagon for work that could handle most any weather, whether or not the roads had been plowed, except for that winter it had snowed 24 inches in 24 hours. She’d stayed home, as well did the rest of the high-country folk for a couple of days until the roads were cleared. The state finally got plows on the road but by that time, most of the roads folks used often had been plowed by the locals. Most everyone had some type of snowplow or another. Daddy would park her Willys facing out every evening and get up early with her to crank the engine to let the heater get the vehicle warm for her. The porte-cochére extended on out to the garage so you could move from the house to the garage without wading through snow or getting drenched by rain.

Seán placed the box with the computer in the combination office/library. He wouldn’t try to set it up until he had internet service because there was software he’d need to download. Seán poured a glass of iced tea and sat down to go over his “To Do” list. Scratching off the things he had accomplished that day, he thought about things he wanted to do. He needed to gravel the drive before it got too late in the fall. There was a quarry about 8 miles away he could run over to and order what he needed. Also, the mailbox post needed to be replaced. He knew of a place down in Warrensville that sold or at least, used to sell, black locust mailbox posts that wouldn’t rot and big enough to hold up to the occasional banging by the snow plows. He also needed to figure out a way to get his SuperSTOL here to the farm. It was already on a trailer, so he guessed he’d have to drive back to Maryland and pull it back. He might need to talk to Foster and see if they delivered 100LL aviation fuel. If not, there were 5 airports within 35 miles where he could get fuel, however, to have some on hand would be great. A 300-gallon tank would work just fine.

Seán used the land line and called Foster Fuels, and yes, they could deliver aviation fuel. He had them add a 300-gallon tank and fuel to his order and scratched it off his “To Do” List.

Seán heard a knock at the back door, or the front door, depending on how you looked at it. The front door actually faced east toward the river and of course the back door faced the driveway. Everyone who came to the house came in the back door. He went to the front door and there stood Fala, with two brown trout in her hand.

“Feel like some trout?” Fala asked.

“I can make some green beans to go with them,” Seán said.

“Give me something to put the fillets in.”

“Seán handed her a shallow pan and Fala went back outside. He then took out a bag of frozen green beans and a pack of bacon and began frying four strips of bacon. When the bacon was crisp, he took the bacon out and dumped the green beans in. While the beans were cooking, Seán mixed olive oil, lemon juice, garlic powder, dried parsley, dried chives, and dried dill in a blender and pulsed it a couple of times. By that time, Fala came in with the fillets and rinsed them off. Seán got a cooking sheet out, covered the bottom with parchment paper then laid the fillets out, skin side down, the basted them with his concoction. Getting a lemon, he sliced half of it and laid the slices on the fillets. Giving the beans a toss, he cut the oven on to let it warm up. He cooked the beans until they turned bright green and were just crispy. Removing the beans from the pan, Seán added a half stick of butter, almond slivers and a ¼ teaspoon of garlic powder and toasted the almonds in the garlic butter. When they were browned, Seán added the beans back into the pan and tossed the beans until they were coated with butter and almond slivers. Taking the pan off the burner, he placed the lid on the pan and placed the fish into the oven. From his liquor cabinet, Seán took out his purchases from the ABC store and mixed Fala a Sazerac, garnishing it with a strip of lemon peel.

A cook AND a bartender!” Fala said, slapping her hands together.

Seán helped himself to three fingers of whiskey from the keg.

“What are we celebrating?” Fala asked.

“Well, you caught your trout AND you graced my humble abode with your presence.” Seán replied.

“Thank you.” Fala said, raising her glass and smiling to Seán.


The next day the Hughes guys showed up and mounted the satellite antenna on a pole high enough to handle the deepest of snows. The two men assembled the cell tower and had it set up in a couple of hours. One of the men handed Seán a box with four cell phones in it, that came with the system. Seán took out two then took the Gator down to Maggie’s. He helped her set them up then she used one to call her sister in Cherokee, who was delighted that Maggie had something besides that old landline system that hadn’t been very dependable. Seán left the two phones so Fala could teach Maggie and Grady how to use them later. Seán and Fala returned to the installers who helped him get his computer set up while Fala kept an eye on their dinner. The system had built in WI-FI so he could get internet access anywhere within 300 feet of the system. They even set up the iHeart radio app so he could listen to music and news from every state if he wanted.

Seán got out a pair of speakers and plugged them into the computer and began streaming music from WJCT out of Independence, Virginia and began internet searches of things he wanted to get. He also sent Jim Moxley an email to tell him he’d be back to pick up the plane in a week or so. After dinner, Seán and Fala got up and went outside to select a place to build a hanger. There was a General Steel outfit in Asheville. He could order a 30x50 hangar for a little less than $20,000 So he just needed to pick out a site for it. The lower pasture wouldn’t do. There was a power line running through it plus there was a 30-degree slope to the house. Seán drove to the upper pasture, and it was a little more level. He would just have to remove a 20-foot tree in the middle of what would be his runway. He needed less than 500 feet of runway to land and take off normally, so that area would work fine. The hangar could be built up on the other side of the barn. Seán went back to the house and called the company in Asheville, they would do the slab and erection for him and quoted a price. Seán was happy with the price and told them he would come down and sign the paperwork.

[feralferret]

Thanks, ncsfsgm! It looks like things are beginning to get organized.

[gipsy]

Great when a plan come together.

[ncsfsgm]

Chapter 5


The next morning, Seán called Foster Fuels to find out what the timeline was for getting the tanks installed so he could plan a trip to Asheville. He was told the tanks weren’t being delivered to their location until Saturday so they would be down on Monday to install them. Seán called the steel building company back and set up an appointment for 1300 on Thursday to sign the paperwork.

Seán backed the truck into the old barn and lowered the stands/stabilizers on the camper and jacked it up off the truck. After driving the truck out from under the camper, he further stabilized the camper with ratchet straps so it wouldn’t wobble when it was entered. He drained the water tank and poured RV antifreeze into the sink and shower traps and commode drains. Sweeping out the accumulated dust and dirt out of the truck bed, Seán gave the inside of the truck a good cleaning also. Finishing, Seán decided to go ahead and go to the quarry and get the gravel delivered. He stopped by Maggie’s to see if Fala wanted to make the ride with him. Fala was helping Maggie make blackberry cobbler, but Maggie told her to go on, that she could finish the cobbler. Fala grabbed her coat and put on a Native Pride ball cap, pulling her ponytail through the hole in the back.

“What are you doing at the quarry,” Fala asked.

“I want to get a couple of loads of gravel for the driveway before the weather turns any wetter.” Seán replied. “I need to go to Asheville on Thursday to sign some paperwork for a hangar I’m having built. Would you want to go on a road trip?”

“Sure. Do you mean a hangar for an airplane? Aunt Maggie didn’t say anything about you having an airplane.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it to her,” Seán said, grinning.

Fala grinned. “She’ll probably crap a brick!”

Seán paid for the gravel and was told it would be delivered the next morning. While he was down that way, he went on into Warrensville, got the Locust mailbox post, and headed back home. He unloaded the post at the foot of the driveway, dropped Fala off, drove to the house to get the post hole digger, some chain, a hammer and nails, the chainsaw, and the tractor. The post was far enough in the ground so the base was below the frostline, so he would have to use the PTO on the tractor to pull it out. After pulling the post, he used the posthole diggers to clean the hole out for the bigger post, added some more pieces of rock and gravel into the bottom of the hole, then set the post. Taking the mailbox off the old post, sawed the new post off to the correct height, nailed it to the mailbox, and was done. When he got back to the tractor shed, he hooked up to the land plane to help scatter the gravel the next morning.

Seán ate a light supper and sat back down behind his computer. He began reading some TEOTWAWKI stories on surviving in a post-apocalyptic society and that led him to a couple of sites that had prepper stories. He made notes as he read and by bedtime, had two legal notebook pad pages full of things he wanted to do further research on. He saw a reference to Coast to Coast that drew his attention. He remembered listening to Art Bell years ago and went to the website. A guy named Noory was apparently the host now. He would have to check it out. An Asheville radio station carried the program and WWVA in Wheeling carried it also. The things he read had gotten him to thinking. His thoughts were falling in line with a lot of things people were writing in the blogs. He had no confidence in the government to do the right thing….at any time. Small things could snowball out of control in no time. Take a look at the pandemic, or like some were calling it on the blogs ,“the Plandemic.” He wouldn’t put it past any of the crooks in Washington to back a plan to keep the people in check. Seán decided that along with providing his own power, he was going to stock up on food and other things in case they had a situation like they did in Canada and the truckers stopped hauling. Between the EPA, the greenies, and the present Administration, that might not be too far in the future. The government tended to exacerbate problems by passing nonsensical bills at the wave of a pen and a lot of back patting and hoop-la. He wrote down a couple of more things on his notepad and prepared to go to bed.


When Seán woke up the sky was just turning from “Can’t See” to “See”, BMNT as Seán had known it in another lifetime. He rolled out of bed, padded into the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, and got the fire going in the wood stove. Going back to his bedroom, he took a shower, shaved, and dressed for the work he was doing today. In the kitchen, he got out three of those Pillsbury “Cheater’s” biscuits out of the freezer compartment of the fridge. “I need to dig through the recipe box and find Mama’s recipe for those Angel Biscuits. The dough would keep in the refrigerator for several and you could just pinch off what you needed.” Seán thought. He fried up a big slice of country ham, made Red-Eye gravy, and fried two eggs. “Chickens!” Seán thought. He needed to fix up that chicken coop and get a rooster and some layers.

Sopping his plate with the last half of the last biscuit, Seán cleaned the kitchen up, got his hat and coat on, then headed for the tractor shed. Checking the oils, Seán added a couple of gallons of diesel to the tank and cranked the tractor. He ran the land plane down the drive to even the surface to prepare it for the gravel. As he passed Maggie’s house, he saw her peeking through the curtains of the kitchen window. Seán dragged the driveway four times then stopped at the bottom of the hill. Fala came out with a travel mug of coffee with “Native Pride” printed on the side and handed it to him.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” Fala asked.

“Oh yes. I cooked and ate breakfast early, probably while you were still wrapped up in your quilt only thinking about getting up.” Seán replied, chivalrously leaving out any reference to farting.

They went inside to take advantage of the wooden cook stove and sat and talked with Maggie and Grady.

“What kind of gravel are you laying?” Grady asked.

“Crushed granite.” Seán replied. “It packs better on that hill than pea gravel does.”

Grady nodded as he raked his biscuit through the honey and butter mixture on his plate.

The gravel trucks arrived at 0900, driven by two very experienced drivers. They spread the gravel so evenly that Seán barely needed to use the land plane to even it out. Seán tipped the men $20 each and they were on their way. Seán changed the height on the land plane to leave a 3-inch layer of gravel and swept the driveway a couple of more times. He drove the tractor back to the shed, finished filling the fuel tank with the rest of the 5-gallon can and closed the big doors. Fala had followed him up and had put on another pot of coffee, setting a cup in front of him when he came in.

She started telling him she would be leaving Sunday to go back to Cherokee and about some of the things she needed to catch up on.

“What’s it like to be in combat?” Fala asked.

“Tense,” Seán said, “It’s hours and days of boredom punctuated by seconds and minutes of terror. You work yourself up through the fear and finally say ‘F**k it’ and do the best you can to keep yourself and your teammates alive.”

“I’ve always wondered how warriors were always ready to go into battle so easy, or at least from what I have read.” Fala said.

“They were fighting for the survival of their people.” Seán replied.

“What about you? For what did you fight?” Fala asked.

“Basically, the same thing, except my people were the eleven other guys on the team.” Seán replied, memories flashing.

“Are you still riding with me tomorrow?" Seán asked Fala, changing the subject.

“Of course! What time will we be leaving?”

“Around 0900. That will give us time to have lunch before the meeting.” Seán replied.

“I’ll be ready.” Fala said, getting up and rinsing her coffee cup and placing it into the dishwasher. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, Bye” Seán replied.

Seán got out his computer and with his notes beside him began doing more research.

He occasionally ordered some things and ordered a one-year family food unit from Food Assets and a half dozen cookbooks. He purchased a Country Living Grain Mill from Pleasant Hill along with hard red and white wheat and a SuperPail of rolled oats.

He checked and yes, there was a Sam’s club in Asheville, but not a COSTCO. It was a shame. It would have been nice to be able to visit both in the same city. Winston-Salem was the easiest one to get to and they also had a Sam’s Club, so he would probably do a bulk run to Winston-Salem once a month. But he would take his cargo trailer with him to Asheville tomorrow and load up what he could get. He had a big basement and could get started with his stocking of food.

Seán shut down the computer and put it away and went to hook up the cargo trailer. On impulse, he headed out to West Jefferson to pick up shelving materials at Lowe’s. He wanted some movable shelves, but would also pick up materials to build some also.

Seán purchased six heavy-duty steel shelving units on casters that would carry 240 pounds on each shelf, pine shelving and 4x4s. It all wouldn’t quite fill up the basement, but it was a good start.

He stopped by the auto parts store and picked up a case of oil, some filters and spare spark plugs for the chainsaw, and PRI-G and PRI-D; it never hurt to have spare parts on hand. At Tractor Supply, he picked up a case of oil and filters for the tractor, a case of 2-cycle oil for the chainsaw, and three quarts of bar oil. Seán took his purchases home but before unloading, He prepared his chainsaw, went to the upper pasture, and cut the tree down that would be in the middle of his runway, to allow it to dry out some before he cut it up. After unloading the shelving units into the basement, he began assembling them and planning where to put each shelf.

[gipsy]

Thanks for the update.

[feralferret]

Ncsfsgm, thanks!

[ncsfsgm]

Chapter 6

Seán filled two metal bottles with water and his travel mug with coffee. Stopping by Maggie’s, he picked up Fala and they were on the road to Asheville. Fala unwrapped two warm ham biscuits and handed Seán one. The morning was clear and crisp, and they enjoyed the drive down NC-16 to West Jefferson, with WWNC fading in and out on the radio. Seán finally switched to the CD changer to have some music that didn’t fade out. Seán wiped the butter grease off his fingers, from the biscuit, and tossed the napkin in the waste bag. They picked up speed once they hit 221, then it was back to crooked roads at Baldwin, where he switched over to 194. To keep from pumping his brakes every ¼ of a mile on the curves, Seán set the speed control on 50 mph and cruised on down the road until they picked up 421 at Deep Gap. By the time they reached I-40 at Old Fort, both Fala and Seán were ready for a pit stop and a bottle of orange juice. The last 30 minutes to Asheville was a breeze and even the traffic on I-40 was light. They had plenty of time when they reached the outskirts of Asheville, so Seán pulled into a Barnes and Noble bookstore that was just off the beltway. Seán looked for books and magazines on sustainability and farming. He found one of the Foxfire books from the series on a sale table. he was going to get it but one of the salespeople said he could get the whole series for $235.00. Seán added the 12-book series to his cart, the Foxfire book on wood stove cookery, and a couple of country cookbooks off of the sale table. Seán added a couple of books by James Wesley Rawles, four books on prepping, and about 25 pounds of paperback books that looked interesting. Fala picked up six books on different subjects, and a couple of fiction novels.

They ate lunch at Juicy Lucy’s and after having a leisurely lunch, went to the builders. Seán reaffirmed what he wanted, and the salesman went over the specs with him. Satisfied, Seán signed the paperwork and handed the man a check and a map of the property. Seán and Fala’s next stop was Sam’s club, where Seán stock up on cases of everything he would eat. Fala loaded big plastic bottles of spices, a couple of 25-pound bags of salt and sugar, condiments, cases of toilet paper, paper towels, paper napkins, and two two-packs of jars of peanut butter. After they had filled the cart, Seán packed them in the trailer and they went back in, this time to browse and pick up things that interested Seán.

They headed back and didn’t reach Seán’s until after dark. Maggie invited them in to eat the pork roast dinner with her and Grady. Grady offered to help them unload the trailer, but Seán told them he’d unload in the morning. There wasn’t anything that couldn’t keep until then.

When Seán decided to leave, Fala walked with him out onto the porch. He turned to tell her good night when Fala’s hands flew to Seán’s head, like magnets to an iron ball, and held him tightly while kissing him.

“I had a wonderful time with you today!” She said.

Stunned, Seán agreed he’d had a wonderful time, gave her a quick peck on the lips, then walked out to the truck to go home.

Friday, Seán spent much of the day just unloading things. He’d no sooner had the trailer unloaded when a delivery truck arrived with the LTS foods he had ordered. The pails and cases were on pallets, and he didn’t have forks for the tractor, so all the pallets had to be unloaded by hand. The truck had a lift gate so they could at least bring the pallets down to ground level. Grady and Fala showed up a little later and helped unload everything.

“That’s a lot of food you have there,” Grady said.

“If things don’t get better in this country, we might need it,” Seán replied.

Seán added pallet forks from Tractor Supply to his list.

Seán was sitting on the screen porch drinking coffee from a Jedburgh Mug, watching the fog clear off the river when a memory from his past flashed through his mind. Cal Sparks. Cal had been a fellow patient at Bethesda, ex-EOD man that was a triple amputee. They had little to do between Physical Therapy sessions but talk about their plans for the future. At first, Cal’s plans were vague and bleak. He couldn’t see a future with just one arm. But he helped figure out ways to help Seán. Cal listened to Seán dream of his future on the farm and he designed the G-moots kit to get Seán out of possible problems as he did his peg-leg trek around the mountains.

The G-moots kit.(Get Me Out of This Shit) kit was a custom lightweight Kifaru pack with a 3” barrel Judge, spare ammunition, to include signal rounds, hunting knife, 50’ of high tensile strength rope, gorilla tape, a roll of safety wire, folding tactical titanium grappling hook, and other things from an EOD micro-HAL kit Sparks thought might come in handy. Seán hadn’t done much trekking yet, except for his onetime up to the cave, but he should at least get the kit out to honor Cal. Cal left Bethesda and went on to set up a company to build similar custom kits for adventurous outdoor handicapped veterans. Later, Cal would team up with Rocket Mobility to design a pack for their Tomahawk all-terrain wheelchair. Seán would have to dig through his things to find his pack, but he had a pretty good idea where it was.

Finishing his coffee, Seán went back inside and set the mug on the counter. Just as he turned to go down to a bedroom he used as a storeroom, there was a knock at the door and Fala walked in.

“Coffee on?” Fala asked.

“Sure, grab a cup,” Seán replied.

Fala walked over to the upper cabinet where Seán kept his mugs and cups, she looked at the mug sitting on the counter and picked it up, studying the emblem on the side.

“What is this?” Fala asked, pointing to the wings on the mug.

“Jedburgh Parachute Wings,” Seán replied over his shoulder as he went into the storeroom.

Fala took a mug out of the cabinet and filled it with coffee. Seán came out of the room with a small pack in his hands and set it on the kitchen island, opened it up and began laying articles on the counter.

“What’s all this?” Fala asked.

“It’s my walk-around pack that keeps me out of trouble. Some people call them EDC kits, but I’ve
customized it for my mountain life.” Seán explained.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” Fala said.

“I know. I’m going to miss you being around.” Seán said.

“I’m going to miss you too,” Fala replied. “The show doesn’t start until late May, but you could come down and I could give you a tour of Oconaluftee Indian Village. There is an RV park nearby where you could set up and visit with me for a while. I’d love to have you down.”

“I’d like that. Let me check the weather for a good weekend and I’ll come down.”

“Good! Aunt Maggie said to come down in the morning to eat breakfast with us at 0700 before she and Grady go to Church.”

“I’ll be there,” Seán promised.

“Well, give me a hug before I go help Aunt Maggie with the laundry,” Fala said.

Seán moved around the island and pulled Fala into his arms. “I’m going to miss this,” Seán said.

“We’ll make time for more when you come down,” Fala said softly.

Fala left and Seán repacked his pack, added a fire-making kit, a bottle of lamp oil, a half dozen Millennium bars and a small bottle of CorrosionX to oil the hinges on the cave door. Sliding a bottle of water into its pouch on the pack, Seán shouldered the pack and retrieved his trekking pole from beside the front door. The fog was beginning to clear away from the river as he headed up the slope to the cave.

When he reached the cave, Seán removed the CorrosionX out of the pack and sprayed the hinges and flooded the lock mechanism. Taking the key from its hiding place, he coated the key with the rust inhibitor and unlocked the door. Seán filled the tank on the lantern with the lamp oil and lit the lantern. Looking around, he saw his footprints from before and noted the place could use a little cleaning out. There was a good layer of dust and dirt on the floor. He’d bring back a street broom, bucket, and a scoop to do some cleaning later. Next year, he might get enough corn mash going to make a run and see how it turns out. There were a couple of sites on the internet that walked you through making moonshine. He made a few notes and blew out the lantern at the door, hanging it back on its hook. Closing and locking the door back, Seán headed back to the house.

When he returned to the house, Seán's head was full of plans. Just as he was about to get his laptop out, the DASolar people arrived to do their evaluation. He hadn’t expected them to come on a weekend. They didn’t stay long though, just long enough to set up some monitoring equipment to get the “Mean” solar and wind averages. They also set up a monitoring device to capture his kilowatt usage hours. They said they could download that data at their office via satellite and have a plan ready for Seán when they came back to pick up the equipment.

Seán logged in on his computer and first, checked his Money Market account. It was actually doing better than he expected. Using the MM debit card, he ordered two more 1-year family food units, along with a case of freeze-dried refried beans, two cases of Instant Fortified Milk, a case each of Apple, Orange, and Peach drink, cases of #2.5 cans of freeze-dried apples, pineapple, strawberries, peaches, blueberries, raspberries, and cranberries. For the next three hours, Seán bookmarked dozens of websites for later research. He took a break to go down to the old smokehouse to check its condition.

The old smokehouse had seen better days and would need some repairs. The sill logs were eaten away by ants and would have to be replaced. The firebox was still in good condition as well as the tin roof, and other than replacing the sill logs and leveling the 8’x12’ building, which seemed to be the extent of the repairs. Seán would take the Rokon out and look for some replacement logs after Fala left the next morning.

Another thing Seán wanted to do was switch to propane to cook with in the summer, and maybe put a gas clothes dryer in. Hanging wet clothes on an outside line was a pain in the ass in the winter. AmeriGas delivered to this area, and he would need to contact them to see what were the biggest underground tanks they had.

It turned out AmeriGas had a set of three 1500-gallon underground tanks with a wet leg that was supposed to go to a tobacco farm, but the farmer had much of his allotment acreage condemned for a new highway bypass. AmeriGas could get a crew moving in three days to get them installed. Seán told him He would gladly take the tanks. And told them to completely fill the tanks. They would be able to only fill the tanks to 80% capacity but that would still give him 3600 gallons of propane. That should last him better than two years.

Seán would have to remove one of the base cabinets to install the gas stove, but the contents of the cabinet would easily fit into the pantry. He would try it out eventually, but since the weather had gotten colder, he just used the wood cook stove, and hadn’t fire up the stove in the den in a while. The kitchen stove kept the house plenty warm, sometimes to warm. He’d taken to cracking open a window in his room to get it cool enough to sleep. He’d had to split the wood meant for the den stove into smaller sizes, but that wasn’t much bother and it kept him in shape. He had almost bought a hydraulic wood splitter but sometimes he got restless and needed to burn it off, and splitting wood sure did that.

[gipsy]

Thanks for a great update.

[jpr9954]

Loved the trip down to Asheville and lunch at Juicy Lucy's. My wife's cousin used to waitress there.

There is just no easy way to get from that part of North Carolina down to Asheville. You'd almost do better to go over to the Tri-Cities than try to come to Asheville.

[ydderf]

Thanks

[ncsfsgm]

Chapter 7


More of the food Seán had ordered came in and he had to build more shelves. The two extra food units he had ordered went in one of the cave aging rooms. He had plenty of room there so some of the duplicate food stuffs went to the cave also. Seán talked to Fala a couple of times a week and told her he was headed back to Maryland to bring his plane home. The slab was poured for the hangar, and they would soon start construction. He would be gone for possibly a week and if she didn’t hear from him, that he would be all right, just busy. She wouldn’t stand for that answer and told him to at least text her if he didn’t have time to talk.

Seán put the camper back on the truck. If he got too tired to drive he could at least pull off at a rest stop and get some good rest. He left early the next morning before sunrise and headed for I-81 in Wytheville. That should put him in a good position for most of the morning leg to not have the sun shining directly in his eyes. It also helped the clouds began to gather. Stopping at a truck stop just before getting on I-81, he filled all his fuel tanks and filled up the potable water tank on the camper. He didn’t stop again until he was near Chantilly to refuel and to drain his bladder.

Seán called Jim Moxley and told him he would be by soon but wasn’t leaving the area until the next day, and could he park his camper in the parking lot that night. Jim told him no problem and he would see him later. Seán pulled through a Chick-Fil-A and ordered three original sandwiches, a large iced tea, and took them to the airfield. He parked, got out, stretched, and took a lap around the parking lot. When he finished his walk, he slid the dinette slider out and sat down to enjoy his dinner and sent Fala a text. With a full belly, Seán decided to call it an evening, stripped down, took a shower, and went to bed, sleeping the sleep of the dead until 0500 the next morning. Getting up, he shaved and dug through his freeze-dried meals, found a Mountain House Breakfast skillet, and heated up water for it and a couple of cups of coffee. After eating, he cleaned up and took his trash to the dumpster behind the hangar. As soon as Jim came in, Seán and Jim gave the plane a once over and added a couple of straps to keep the wings folded. Filling up his water bottles, Seán placed three of them in the fridge and added ice from Jim’s ice machine to the 4th and put it in in the cup holder in the console. He didn’t leave until almost 10:00 AM to let the traffic die down. He’d have liked to have left sooner, but the morning rush began at 0500. Traffic leaving the Washington area wasn’t bad and Seán fell in with the truckers and kept a steady pace, answering all kinds of questions on Channel 19 about the trailered plane. It was a little out of the way, but he wanted to catch I-81 in Winchester and go by the Sportsman’s Warehouse located there and pick up a few things. His main goal was to pick up some propane lanterns for the cave. Since he was getting the tanks with a wet leg, he could, with an adapter hose, refill the lantern cylinders. He got four Coleman Propane Lanterns, an adapter hose, four gas canisters for each lantern, and a half-dozen trail cameras. Before he left Winchester, Seán checked the trailer wheels for any signs of overheating.

Seán stopped and grabbed lunch at the Mountain View restaurant outside of Buchanan before heading on home. Waiting for his lunch to be served, Seán called Fala and told her he was on his way home.

“When are you coming down to visit?” Fala asked.

“As soon as I can put the plane in the hangar,” Seán replied.

Fala finally had to go and let Seán eat his lunch. Seán told her he would text her as soon as he got home. As he ate his lunch, he was thinking about improvements he could make to his little oasis in the mountains. With everything going on in the country and mother nature throwing her two cents worth into the mess, the country wasn’t going to be able to handle a big crisis in the near future. He decide to become like one of those Doomsday Preppers and be prepared for most anything. There were a lot of people that expected the government and utility companies to race in and fix everything, but Seán knew that wasn’t very realistic. The government WANTED people to be dependent on it and would never really be able to do much of anything in a real disaster. They’d shown that in the past, going back decades. Seán was going to make sure the residents of the Bend would not go wanting, at least as much as he could. His income was limited to his disability check and what he made on his Money Market account, but he could buy what he could a bit at the time. He had a good bit of money stashed away in his Money Market account but would save that for major purchases, which right now were almost completed. He would have to shell out to get a solar or wind system for the hangar to have electricity there, but he couldn’t think of anything else. He was hoping to hear back from DASolar to see what they came up with.

Taking highway 21 out of Wytheville to Independence and then to the Bend, only took 50 minutes and was free from the usual tourists, it being a weekday. Thank goodness he was a good 12 miles from the Blue Ridge Parkway and farther than that from the Appalachian Trail.

Seán parked the plane trailer under the trees behind the upper barn and covered it with a tarp to keep the bird crap off of it. If it was shiny, birds like to crap on it. He sent Fala a text telling her he was back, safe and sound, and would call her that night.

Seán was satisfied with Mac and Cheese with Span cubes stirred in that night and called Fala. She said she was busy making costumes for the players and villagers for the coming season and Seán recommended he not come down if she was so busy. She begged him to come and that she was practically caught up. Seán smiled at the tone of her voice and together they planned for him to come down in two weeks. The hangar should be finished by then.

The contractor actually got the hangar finished ahead of the estimated time. The guys from DASolar came down to gather their equipment and gave Seán their evaluation. They estimated although he would get benefit from their solar water heater, as far as generating electricity, he was better off with the vortex wind generators for charging the batteries throughout the year. Seán told them “Fine”, to put in what they recommended to cover the house and garage and he’d need something for the hangar in the upper pasture. They said they would go up and check things out to see what he would need.

Seán saw one man come back down the hill and get a 5-gallon out of their truck and return back up hill. An hour later they returned and came over to him.

“Does that stream up there run year-round?” One of the men asked.

“Yes it does, its fed by a couple of springs upslope,” Seán replied.

“You know, if you dammed up that small ravine, you could power the hangar and the barn with a small hydro generator. We have a 1500-watt generator we could install. Of course, you’d have to build the dam. “

“Can one of the vortex units handle it for now?” Seán asked. “I don’t like the idea of building a dam in the wintertime. Maybe I’ll upgrade in the spring.”

“Sure, no problem.” The man replied.

After the men left, Seán grabbed a scoop shovel, a broom, and a bucket and put them in the Gator. Putting gas cylinders on the lanterns, he put them in the Gator also. He drove up to the cave, lit the propane lanterns, and got to work sweeping the cave floor, except it didn’t quite work that way. Some of the cave floor was deeply covered with dirt and he had to first remove the majority of the dirt and haul it out in the bucket. Inside the room with the stills, the dirt was especially thick in one corner. He used the scoop to remove as much dirt as he could before sweeping, and the blade of the shovel caught on something. He skimmed over the protrusion with the shovel and began sweeping the remaining dirt away. To his surprise, he uncovered a round lead looking thing and then realized it was a zinc jar lid. He had seen plenty of those at his grandmother’s house when he was young. They had even been used to scrape hair off of hogs after they had been scalded during butchering. He finally got enough sand removed from around it to remove it from the hole it was in and it looked like it had rotten food in it. He unscrewed the lid and on closer inspection he realized the jar was filled with beeswax covering something in the jar. He dug down into the wax with his Leatherman and found the jar was mostly filled with what looked like gold coins. Scraping around on the floor, he found seven more of the quart-sized jars buried a little deeper in the hole. Covering everything back up, Seán set the jar in the bucket, turned the lanterns off, and locked the cave back up. He took the bucket and jar back to the house and into the kitchen.

Seán got out a one-use aluminum lasagna pan and took the top off of the jar, laid the jar down in the pan, placed the pan in the oven of the wood cook stove and threw a couple of pieces of wood in the firebox. He could melt the wax from around the coins and clean them off without possibly ruining the value. He didn’t know how old they all were. The coin he took out of the jar was dated 1906. While the oven was heating up, he turned the computer on to see if he could find out the numismatic value of the coin. He didn’t even know the current price of gold. The information he garnered didn’t tell him much. He wasn’t sure how to grade coins. He’d find a coin dealer and see what they said. To be sure there would be someone in Winston Salem. He found an address and saw it wasn’t very far from Smith Reynolds airport. Maybe it was a good chance to air out the SuperSTOL. Twenty minutes later, Seán checked the jar in the oven and there still was a block of wax that hadn’t melted but a lot of coins were showing. He put the pan back in the oven and set the timer for another 20 minutes. Looking around the utensil drawer, he found a pair of tongs that had the tips covered in silicone. He had a long pair of forceps, but he didn’t want to chance damaging the coins. The timer dinged and Seán took the pan out of the oven. Carefully lifting the jar out of the pool of wax with oven mitts, he slowly shook the coins out on a sheet of butcher paper and began cleaning the warm coins with paper towels. Two rolls of paper towels later, Seán had 125 gold coins laid out on the kitchen island. He began separating them by date that went from 1875 all the way to 1930. He vaguely remembered Roosevelt confiscated gold back toward the end of the Depression, and looked that up and read about Executive Order 6102.

Seán was tempted to go and dig up the rest of the jars then decided to just leave them where they were. They were as safe there as they had ever been, maybe safer. Reading further, he identified the 1877 coin as a 1 ounce $20 Liberty Head Double Eagle Gold Coin. The seller had it listed for $2500. Seán knew he probably wouldn’t get that much for it but still was a great deal of money for a coin. There was a hobby shop down in West Jefferson and maybe they had those little boxes or envelopes to display coins in them. He carefully stacked the coins in groups of ten and wrapped them in plastic food wrap then placed them in his gun vault. Seán fought to keep his excitement down. He really didn’t know what he had. KITCO had an asking price for gold on that day as $1927.60, but they could have additional value because of their age. Still, the estimated value right now was somewhere around a quarter of a million dollars, and he had another seven jars, hopefully, just as full.

[gipsy]

Nice find. Thanks for the update and frugal grandparents.

[ncsfsgm]

Chapter 8


After putting the coin away, Seán went over to the wet bar and picked up the bottle of Ata Raki given to him by a Turkish Commando years ago. It is basically the national alcoholic drink of Turkey and he had never opened the bottle. He cracked the seal and poured a measure in a rocks glass, added water and a couple of ice cubes. The added water turned the raki a milky color, as Seán remembered, but definitely wasn’t milky tasting. Taking his drink to the computer, he spent the evening bookmarking sites about survival, prepping and unique products.

Before turning in for the night, Seán placed enough freeze-dried peaches into water to rehydrate to have a bowl for breakfast and to later make a cobbler. He banked the fire in the cook stove for the night and cut out the lights. Going into the bedroom, he closed the heavy door and cracked open a window, to keep it cold in the room.

Dawn seemed to be coming earlier and earlier but Seán awoke refreshed, and his mind filled with ideas that came to him before he went to sleep. He dressed and went to the kitchen and built the fire up in the cook stove and sliced bacon from the side hanging in the pantry. He set up the percolator and fried the bacon until slightly crisp. He laid a couple of slices on the folding camp stove toaster and placed it over the hotter part of the woodstove. It worked well on his Coleman camp stove and worked just as well on the wood stove. He was trying some of the Ovaeasy powdered eggs and measured out enough for three eggs to scramble. The toast was ready when he finished scrambling the eggs. Buttering the toast, he spread a little apple butter on the slices and enjoyed his breakfast with his cups of coffee. From his experience in the military, powdered eggs were better than no eggs at all, so he needed to get some chickens started. He cleaned up his breakfast mess, got his tool belt, and headed for the old chicken coop.

While he was making repairs, a truck drove up and a man came out to the sound of the hammering.

“Hey, how are you doing?” The man asked.

“I’m fine,” Seán replied. “What can I do for you?”

“I was driving by down by the river and spotted your barn. Do you still use it?”

“Just to store my camper and a 1947 Ford COE Truck in for now.” Seán replied.

“Would you be willing to sell it?” The man asked.

“The truck? Heck no. It runs like a sewing machine and if the politicians don’t quit trying to start a war, it may be the only thing around that will be able to run."

“I take it you don’t care for politicians?” The man asked.

“There are some that are trying to the job they are supposed to do but most of them, and the entire Democrat Party, are enablers of the coming anti-Christ."

“Well actually, I meant would you be willing to sell the barn,” The man asked uneasily, unsure whether this man was whacko or not.

“Well, I don’t know. I’d have to build a shelter for the COE and my camper…” Seán said, rapidly going over the replacement costs in his head.

“The barnwood has an absolutely beautiful patina,” The man said.

“Yeah, but much of the structure is fourteen-inch hand hewn beams over 150 years old.” Seán said, building his case for a higher asking price.

“Could I look inside?” The man asked, almost salivating.

“Sure, come on,” Seán said, hanging his tool belt on the door of the coop.

The man was amazed at the bank barn. None of the posts were rotted and the ax and adze marks were showing on the beams where they had been shaped. The barn was as sturdy as the day it was built. The thing was, it stood in the way of a couple of buildings Seán wanted to build and he had the upper pasture barn. When the man gave him a price, Seán fought to keep a straight face. It would pay for the two buildings Seán wanted to build, and he wouldn’t have to shell out any money.

“How about I just sell you the sheathing and not the whole barn. The structure is sound and all I would have to do is replace the sheathing.”

The man’s face fell slightly, he would have liked to have the hand-hewn beams, but the barnwood boards were still worth their weight in gold.

The man quoted him another price that would still mostly pay for the two building kits.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll accept that, but everything has to be cleaned up when you are done,” Seán said.

The man assured Seán every splinter would be cleaned up.

With a handshake, the man left and Seán went back to repairing the chicken coop.

The day before he was to leave for Cherokee, Seán mounted the camper back onto the truck and hitched the cargo trailer to the truck. He might see some bulky items he’d need the trailer for.

The trip to Cherokee was tedious combined with moments of tenseness when encountering rubbernecking tourist on the roads, Seán could spot them at a distance but sometimes the distances weren’t that great. He stopped at Old Fort to settle down before going around Asheville and on to Cherokee, texting Fala to give her his ETA. After leaving the city limits of Asheville, the traffic got a little better but got heavier after turning off I-40 at Clyde to take 74 to Cherokee. He kept his distance from the vehicle in front of him because tourists tended to brake hard at the sight of a farting skunk. The final leg of his trip was 28 miles of flashing brake lights and silent cursing.

Seán met Fala in front of the Talking Leaves bookstore. She was wearing a Suede skirt, a cotton blouse, and wore ankle-high suede boots. Directing him to the RV park, they went to lunch after dropping the trailer off at his space.

“Is that your uniform here?” Seán asked.

“Not really, these are just some things I made. John Whitefeather made the boots. Sort of advertising while I’m out and about."

“They look nice on you. The cotton blouse looks comfortable,” Seán said.

“Thank you Sir! But the blouse is actually made out of hemp fiber.”

They had lunch at Granny's Kitchen Restaurant and then Fala took him on tour. They watched part of a rehearsal at the outdoor theater and then Fala took him to her work area and introduced him around.

Fala basically took a three-day weekend from working and showed Seán around (and off). They ate every meal together and spent long hours just talking. Before he left on Monday, Fala handed him a leather bag that reminded Seán of an M-5 medical bag.

“This is an Indigenous Medical Kit.” Fala explained. “It contains traditional medicinal herbs used by the Cherokee. Just keep it at your place for the next time I’m back there. Instructions are included, but I will explain their uses more in detail later."

Fala and Seán ate breakfast together before he left. He made a stop at Sam’s Club when he reached Asheville and bought cases of vegetables and more paper products, and either things that would keep a while, filling the trailer up. Stopping at a hobby store, he found the individual coin display cases he wanted. He arrived back at the Bend in the late afternoon and left the trailer to be unloaded the next morning, taking the herb bag inside with him. He placed it in a cabinet with his U.S. Special Forces Medical Handbook, and Where There Is No Doctor books. He’d decided to fly to Winston-Salem on Wednesday to get the coins appraised.

He got a call from DASolar not long after arriving home advising him they had a new solar panel that was much more efficient, even on cloudy days and wanted to know if he wanted them to put in an array. Seán agreed to a hybrid solar/wind setup, and they made an appointment to start putting in the system the next Monday.

That fit in with Seán’s plans perfectly. He could fly down for a day, or two if needed, and take care of business so he would be back before the contractors finished with the hangar.

The next morning, Grady helped Seán roll the plane off of the trailer and attach the wings back into place. Seán gave the plane a full inspection including cranking the engine and letting it run, watching the instruments. He got jiggy and taxied up the slope to the top of the strip and took off, setting a course for Mountain Lake. Seán took a turn around the lake and flew back to the Bend. Setting up for a STOL landing, he checked the windsock and brought the plane in slow, hand on the throttle and adjusted as needed. The twenty-inch tundra tires touched the ground, and he stopped within twenty-five feet. The workers putting the siding on the hangar had stopped and were staring at the plane. A couple walked over and asked laughingly if the plane was part helicopter. They helped Seán push the tail around and get it ready to take off the next morning. Seán added a few gallons of 100LL fuel to the tank and again did a walk-around inspection. He went back to the house and packed his JIC (Just in Case) bag with a change of clothes and toiletries in case he stayed overnight and sat it by the door. The coins were going into a hardened pistol case when he got them into their plastic display cases, which he was going to do that night.

Seán got up early the next morning, took a shower, shaved, and made a good breakfast. He took his JIC bag and the case of coins up to the plane and did his preflight as soon as it got light. The contractors were arriving about the time he cranked the engine and watched as he taxied up to the end of the strip. Seán opened up the throttle until the tail stood straight out and released the brakes, Wheels leaving the ground within fifty feet. He brought up the coordinates for Smith Reynolds Airport and checked in with Tri-Cities, opening the flight plan he had submitted the night before. There were a few clouds around but nothing that was bothering. Forty minutes later he checked in to the SR tower and requested landing instructions. Seán was given instructions for landing on runway 15, a 6,000-foot runway of which he used 50 feet. He should have landed long because he had to taxi almost ¾ of a mile to his tie-down area.

Seán called a taxi when he’d gotten his plane tied down and was at the coin dealer forty minutes later. When Seán opened the pistol case, the old man’s fingers were twitching with excitement. Seán sat with the man as he graded each coin. Three hours later, he offered Seán a single price for all the coins and satisfied, Seán accepted, for the convenience of not having to go around finding the best deal. When the dealer asked him where he had gotten the coins Seán said they had been left to him by some late relatives. The man’s jaw dropped when Seán mentioned he had seven more quart jars with coins in them. He urged Seán to bring them in and he would give him a fair price. Seán said he would keep him in mind.

“They did a direct transfer to his bank account and when the deposit was confirmed, Seán called another taxi, went to the Great Outdoor Provision Store, and bought a new fly rod and reel and a set of waders. Another taxi took him to Atlas Firearms for ammo purchases and then back to the airport.

Not needing fuel, Seán loaded his purchases and got permission to take off. He arrived back at the Bend at 3:30 PM and put the wheels down right down in front of the hangar.

[feralferret]

Thanks, ncsfsgm!

[cedarlake]

IMHO,

“They did a direct transfer to his bank account and when the deposit was confirmed''.

I would've done this a bit different. Cash on the barrelhead.

No need to involve the banking system that will report the deposit to the I.R.S. and other Federal Agencies.

Great chapter.

[imahic]

Another great story from one of my favorite story tellers. Thanks for the update.

[gipsy]

Have to agree on the cash instead of a transfer. Thanks for the update.

[ydderf]

Thanks Ncsfsgm. Thinking about a huge pocket full of cash, if stopped by police they can seize it and it takes weeks/months to get it back after a lot of work proving it is not the proceeds of crime

[jpr9954]

I am assuming you will have Sean going through Clyde on his way to visit Fala down in Cherokee on occasion. If so, he needs to stop at Old Grouch's Military Surplus in Clyde. It is a real honest to God old fashioned surplus store. Tim Glance who owns the store is a retired Army CW3 and knows his surplus gear. He also has a large following in the prepper community.

ogsurplus-com.3dcartstores.com/

[iamnobody]

Oct 14, 2023 16:50:57 GMT -6 jpr9954 said:

I am assuming you will have Sean going through Clyde on his way to visit Fala down in Cherokee on occasion. If so, he needs to stop at Old Grouch's Military Surplus in Clyde. It is a real honest to God old fashioned surplus store. Tim Glance who owns the store is a retired Army CW3 and knows his surplus gear. He also has a large following in the prepper community.

ogsurplus-com.3dcartstores.com/

Thanks for the link.

I definitely need a gun like he has out front in his photos.

That would be great for geese. 

[ncsfsgm]

Oct 14, 2023 18:38:40 GMT -6 iamnobody said:

Oct 14, 2023 16:50:57 GMT -6 jpr9954 said:

I am assuming you will have Sean going through Clyde on his way to visit Fala down in Cherokee on occasion. If so, he needs to stop at Old Grouch's Military Surplus in Clyde. It is a real honest to God old fashioned surplus store. Tim Glance who owns the store is a retired Army CW3 and knows his surplus gear. He also has a large following in the prepper community.

ogsurplus-com.3dcartstores.com/

Thanks for the link.

I definitely need a gun like he has out front in his photos.

That would be great for geese. 

I've bought repackaging kits with the stripper clips for .308 and clips for my Garand in the past.  Never physically been to his store.

[jpr9954]

Oct 14, 2023 21:22:32 GMT -6 ncsfsgm said:

Oct 14, 2023 18:38:40 GMT -6 iamnobody said:

Thanks for the link.

I definitely need a gun like he has out front in his photos.

That would be great for geese. 

I've bought repackaging kits with the stripper clips for .308 and clips for my Garand in the past.  Never physically been to his store.

If you do get a chance, take it. Tim is a great guy and often has one of a kind things available.

The Old Grouch was his dad and, to be honest, he was kind of a grouch.

The store is across the street from the big naval gun in Clyde.

[CountryGuy]

Is Tim still in business? Years back he used to be on Jack Spirko's expert council for on The Survival Podacast. I recall he'd ran into some business issues of some sort or other and faded off of there. I'd tried checking out his webpage for some gear and at the time he wasn't taking orders. If he's back up and running that's good news.

Oct 14, 2023 16:50:57 GMT -6 jpr9954 said:

I am assuming you will have Sean going through Clyde on his way to visit Fala down in Cherokee on occasion. If so, he needs to stop at Old Grouch's Military Surplus in Clyde. It is a real honest to God old fashioned surplus store. Tim Glance who owns the store is a retired Army CW3 and knows his surplus gear. He also has a large following in the prepper community.

ogsurplus-com.3dcartstores.com/