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Post by feralferret on Mar 10, 2024 23:06:20 GMT -6
It actually is for sale in the US. DX Engineering, Ham Radio World and Gigaparts all show in stock, and all for about the same $2899 price. Way past my budget! I would love to pick up an older simple HF transceiver just for ease of operation. I still have my Hallicrafter HF Transmitter and receiver and a separate 10 meter radio that is much newer. 10 meters is a bit of a hassle on an HT-37 transmitter as it will only cover a portion of the band, dependent on which crystal you have installed. Yes, I am a licensed ham.
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Post by ncsfsgm on Mar 11, 2024 9:06:48 GMT -6
Chapter 15 It was cold when Eric got up. He pulled on bib overalls and a sweatshirt over base layer long underwear. While the coffee was perking, he went into the grotto and lit his two forced air kerosene heaters in the alcove. With the canvas curtains over the mouth of the grotto, it would warm the area up fairly quickly. The grotto was climate controlled….sort of. Because of its north facing opening, it stayed cool in the summer and colder than Alaska in the Winter. The wind was blowing outside, remnants of the blizzard battering the Sierras to the west. It had been a bad year for snow. Yes, it did help refill the reservoirs, but the snow could cause flooding and people in the area suffered from the cold. Mountain passes were impassible, even this far east. The state wasn’t as diligent as it once was about keeping the passes open as in better economic times. In the next two days they were due for snow in Samak from the remnants of the same blizzard. Eric decided to wait for the passes to clear before leaving.
Every day Eric checked and rechecked everything. He could close his eyes and find anything he wanted. He’d gone over his guns at least a dozen times, and already had them in their vehicle racks and stored in the camping van. Extra defense ammunition was stored in easy to reach locations. Hunting ammunition was stored in specific areas.
Eric cranked the FMTV to let the hot water from the radiator flow through the in-floor heating and warm the camper up. He stored a two-pound bag of elk jerky he had picked up the day before at the Mirror Lake Chevron into the pantry and a one-pound pack in the vehicle cab. He had loaded up on road snacks in case he just wanted to keep driving and not stop for a noon meal. Eric was mounting the racks for the special military edition Rokon and its trailer along with the winch mount when he heard someone enter the grotto.
“Hello? Eric, are you in there?” The voice called.
Eric immediately recognized the voice of Jaqui McAllen, who Evelyn, bless her heart, had been trying to match up with him.
“Hi Jaqui, what’s up?”
“I stopped by to give Evelyn a Pine Nut cake. She said you were leaving soon?”
“Yeah, as soon as the passes are clear of snow.” Eric replied.
“Why in the world would you want to leave?” Jaqui asked.
“After my deployment to the southeast, the wanderlust creeped up on me. I’ll probably head back to some of the same type areas and help those I can.” Eric replied.
“That’s noble of you but you will be missed around here.” Jaqui said.
“People come and go all the time, you, as well as I, know that.” Eric replied.
Utah Highway Patrolman Andy McAllen, Jaqui’s husband, had been gunned down while conducting a traffic stop on highway 189 three years ago.
“Yes, but they are always missed.” Jaqui said sadly. “Is there anything you need?”
“Not that I can think of.” Eric replied. “I’ve got everything pretty much covered.”
“Really? You’re just going to run away?” Jaqui asked.
“Not really running away, just refreshing my surroundings. I’ll come back sometime. In truth, since they moved the government seat to Omaha I’ve felt uneasy. They didn’t do anything in Washington before the Storm, and they are doing exactly the same thing in Omaha. They are more interested in setting up their new seat of power than actually helping those affected back east. Did you know that most of the help going to the eastern states comes from the western states? FEMA is as useless as teats on a boar hog. Other state governments are the ones helping state governments.”
“That’s sad,” Jaqui said.
“If there was a God, he would have someone trip over an old nuke left behind at Offutt and blow the trash to hell.” Eric said grimly.
“Nice bike.” Jaqui said, pointing to the Rokon.
“Yeah, Carrie gave it to me for a birthday present two years ago.” Eric replied. “I figured it would give me a little extra transportation while on the road.”
Gabe opened a door with a red cross on it. “We’ll clean out this room on the next trip. Looks like a lot of medical supplies.”
Conrad removed the tape off the switches and locked the place up. The light of day was dwindling so they made haste getting back to the farm.
They decided to not make a quick return trip and inventoried and stored what they had brought back from Tough Hill. Conrad, Bill, and Don loaded his truck and trailer with what Conrad needed and took it to the Inn.
“We need to bring all the medical supplies as well as the dialysis machine while we can still get them” Gabe told Naomi.
“Yeah. It looked like everything was still up to date.” Naomi replied.
Eric decided it was time to hit the road. If he stayed far enough south, he could miss the worst of the passes that still had snow in them. Before another storm system blew through, he thought now was as good a time as any to leave. He filled the water tanks on the trailer and the FMTV the night before he left so he could leave the first thing in the morning.
Evelyn was up early the next morning to make breakfast, so Eric ate with them.
Eric felt a little melancholy as he pulled his rig out of the grotto and closed the curtains back. Evelyn had tears in her eyes and John gave him a sad, but knowing look, as he shook Eric’s hand. Eric adjusted the holster for the Bond Derringer at his waist, put a set of Blackout wireless in ear hearing protection buds in, and set the water bottle where it was secure, but within reach. He tooted the horn, waved, and headed out to the main road. He turned left and headed toward Kamas with the plan to go south to I-70 then work his way east. They should be keeping 70 open pretty well to keep the big trucks rolling east. He stopped at the Chevron and topped off the saddle tanks before heading down state road 32. It was clear sailing all the way to state road 189/40. Eric followed SR 40 to keep away from Orem and Provo. Eric was loose and chewing on a piece of jerky when he pulled into Duchesne, dropping his speed to the 30-mph posted speed limit. He turned onto SR 191 and picked his speed back up as he crossed the Strawberry River. There had been a few people out and about, with a few gawking at the unusual camo scheme of the rig. He would stay on SR 191 through the valleys and canyons until he reached I-70, only stopping a couple of times to use the urine bottle. Occasionally, he could view the rail line that sort of paralleled 191 and he saw hundreds of coal cars, filled with coal, heading for power plants. The government had folded on their Green Initiative and allowed the remaining coal-fired power plants to remain. That, hydro, and only a few nuclear plants remained.
After driving a little over three hours, Eric began looking for somewhere to pull over and stretch his legs on I-70. He was just crossing the bridge at Green River and once clearing the bridge, pulled over and consulted his navigation and saw there was a rest stop up ahead a few miles at Crescent Junction. He could use the facilities and walk around a bit. Adjusting the seat cooler, he pulled back onto the interstate and headed for Crescent Junction.
Eric pulled into the rest stop and parked in the back. He shut the FMTV down but left the climate control on to keep the temperature in at 65 degrees. If the battery drew down to low, the truck would automatically start to recharge the batteries if the solar panels couldn’t handle it.
Getting his Kindle Reader out of his bag, Eric headed to the restroom. He had a meeting to attend.
An hour later, when he came back out, Eric Walked around on the sidewalk, loosening up his legs and finally walked back to the truck. He had eaten enough jerky that he wasn’t hungry but was still thirsty. He refilled his water bottle and did a walk-around checking the trailer and truck. Getting into the FMTV, he turned the switch key to accessories and checked all the tire pressures. He wasn’t expecting any problems with the run-flat tires but wanted to set up a pre-run checklist.
After fastening his seatbelt, Eric pulled out of his parking area. As Eric was heading out of the Crescent Junction rest stop exit he saw the woman with a backpack standing beside the driveway with her thumb out. She looked to be his height and had curly black hair. He pulled up next to her and rolled the passenger window down.
“Where are you headed?” Eric asked.
“Anywhere, as long as it is away from Utah and Nevada.”
“Well, so far, it looks like you are succeeding.” Eric grinned. “Right now, I’m headed for Missouri.”
“Sounds good to me.” The woman said.
Eric opened the door and the woman set her pack on the floorboard and climbed in.
“I’ll have to get a hell of a lot farther from here before I’m satisfied.” She said. “By the way, my name is Alana Cooke.
“Alana, that’s a pretty name.” Eric said. I’m Eric. Eric Bateman.”
“Alana is my middle name. Persephone is my given name. My mother liked Greek mythology.” Alana replied.
“Nice setup you’ve got here.” Alana said.
“Thanks. I’ve been working on it a while.” Eric responded.
As they got nearer Grand Junction, Colorado, Eric asked Alana if she was hungry. Restaurants would probably be few and far between after Grand Junction.
“Sure, I could eat something.” Alana replied. Eric saw a sign advertising “Mamma’s Kitchen”. He figured it would be better than fast food and there were truckers parked in the parking lot.
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Post by gipsy on Mar 11, 2024 10:08:44 GMT -6
Cool update. Thanks
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Post by ydderf on Mar 11, 2024 18:28:22 GMT -6
Thanks for the update
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Post by feralferret on Mar 11, 2024 21:05:31 GMT -6
Ncsfsgm, thank you.
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Post by ncsfsgm on Mar 13, 2024 7:13:39 GMT -6
Chapter 16
They went in and Eric stopped at a table and asked the truckers if US 50 was clear.
“Oh, hell yes!” One of the truckers replied. “If you stay on 50 to I-35 it will take you right into Kansas City as clean as a whistle.”
“That’s good, Thanks.” Eric replied.
Alana ordered a bowl of stew while Eric got fried liver and onions, mashed potatoes, green beans, and extra gravy. Between the two of them they drank a pitcher of iced tea with their meal. They saved enough room to have a slice of warm apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
They stopped at the Curecanti National Recreation Area near Gunnison, Colorado to camp for the night. Alana looked at Eric oddly when he opened up the camper and showed her where she could sleep. He showed her the washer and told her he could put up a clothesline to dry her clothes. He got out a terrycloth robe for her to use and told her he would set up the shower enclosure so she could freshen up. While she sorted herself out, Eric took the shower enclosure curtain and the frame for it out of a storage box and assembled it at the outdoor shower outlet on the right side of the FMTV. Next, he hung the tarp awnings and strung a clothesline between the awning support poles. He set up his cot and mattress and rolled out the sleeping bag to air out. Eric heard the washer start so he expected Alana out any minute. He unpacked the Solo Ranger and built a fire. Getting two camping chairs out of a storage locker, he set them up next to the Solo.
“I wondered where you were going to sleep.” Alana said.
“That bed inside sleeps one and bunks two, and I don’t know you that well.” Eric said grinning. “Did you find the shampoo and body wash? Sorry, I wasn’t expecting a female, so you’ll have to smell like Old Spice.”
“That’s okay. I can pick up something along the way later.” Alana replied. “Won’t you get cold out here?”
“I’ve got a good sleeping bag and if it were to get too cold, I have a small, insulated tent I could put up.” Eric explained.
Saturday morning, everyone gathered back at the farm to go back to Tough Hill Mountain. The order of march changed slightly with Bill, Andy, and Zoe bringing up the rear. When they got to their destination, Conrad did his thing to secure the switches, then they loaded up the first aid room and the dialysis machine. Naomi went to Zoe and showed her a box.
“There’s enough Hormonal Implants here for years!” Naomi said. “And the applicator is included.”
Conrad consulted his notebook and took them to another storage room that was filled with clothing for adults and children. Don figured to keep some for themselves and turn the rest over to Reverend Pearson. Conrad spent most of his time searching an office looking through things. He finally found part of what he was looking for, which led him to other things. He used the combination to open the office safe and found the binder he had long ago looked through. In the appendices, he found the blank spaces for filling in the gun safe combinations and used them to open up six gun safes, three of them holding ammunition.
Alana came out of the camper in fresh clothes and an armload of freshly washed laundry. Apparently, she had found the clothes pins because she started pinning up her laundry.
“You don’t need to be checking out my underwear.” Alana said. “I’m a 34D if you are curious.”
Eric blushed and went back to reading his Kindle.
“What is it with men and fires?” Alana asked. “You all seem to revel in sitting around and staring into a fire.”
“It’s probably in the DNA left in our bodies from Homo sapiens mating with ugly Neanderthal females.” Eric replied.
“That’s believable.” Alana said.
Eric got up and took out a food box, removing two Russet baking potatoes. He stuck a baking nail through each potato and wrapped them in aluminum foil, then placed a stainless-steel grate on the Solo and laid the potatoes out to bake. He returned to the trailer and got two sirloin steaks out of one of the portable freezers and left them out to thaw.
Occasionally rolling the potatoes with a set of long tongs, Eric continued reading his Kindle. He finally laid his reader down and added more wood to the fire.
“Where are you from originally?" Alana asked.
“Eureka, Montana.” Eric replied.
“And you’re headed east?” Alana asked.
“As good a direction as any these days.” Eric said dryly. “You’re headed that way, aren’t you?"
“Yeah, but I’m trying to get home.” Alana replied.
“And where would that be?” Eric asked.
“Wallop Hollow, Tennessee.” Alana answered.
“What in the world were you doing here out west?”
“I got a full ride scholarship to UNLV, got my degree, fell head over heels with a guy that I later found out had more wives than I wanted him to have.”
“Damn!”
“Yeah, my sentiments exactly,” Alana said.
Eric checked the potatoes, and they were done. He went inside the camper, got out a container of sour cream powder and mixed up sour cream. Taking a can of Red Feather butter out of the small pantry, he left them on the counter and went back out to start the steaks.
Eric cooked the steaks to a medium rare and seasoned them, then set them aside. Alana went into the camper and returned with plates, eating utensils and the sour cream and butter.
“Sorry, there is no bread or salad.” Eric said.
“This is as good as it gets!” Alana said, smiling.
Eric went into the trailer and came back with two ice-cold Cokes he’d put into the freezer when he’d taken the steaks out.
“Oh my Goodness! I haven’t had a Coke in ages!” Alana exclaimed.
They enjoyed their meager repast and Alana even offered to help clean the dishes. Eric retrieved dish soap, scrub pad, a dish cloth, and towel and they cleaned up everything at the shower outlet.
Once the dishes and Solo grate were cleaned up and dried, Erick broke up a dead mesquite bush and slowly fed the fire. Toward dark, Eric lit a Dietz lantern and hung it from a pole to provide a little light. Turning on his TR112 portable shortwave radio, he listened to a station out of Santa Fe.
“If I’m not mistaken, there is a Walmart in Gunnison we’ll stop at on the way in the morning.” Eric said. “You can pick up anything you need.”
“Okay, thanks. I appreciate it.” Alana replied.
Before it got too late, Eric showed Alana where the thermostat was and how to set it. “Don’t be alarmed if you hear the truck crank during the night. It will do that automatically if the battery needs charging.”
When Eric woke up the next morning, it was just starting to lighten up. He silently zipped the bag zipper down and cleared the material from around his ears. He listened and sniffed the air. Shifting his eyes around, he couldn’t discern any movement. He hadn’t heard any more vehicles come into the campground so they must have been the only campers there. He reached up and took down his boots from where he had hung them to keep any beasties out. He wasn’t worried about scorpions this time of year, but he had squashed a few mice in his time with his toes. It wasn’t very pleasant the first thing in the morning. By the time Eric had everything packed up, Alana had awakened and dressed. He cooked powdered eggs and bacon on the induction burners in the camper. After eating, they cleaned up and got on the road by 0900. Eric got the address to Walmart, so they went there directly. They both grabbed a cart each and Alana took off in one direction and Eric in another. Eric headed straight to the section that held the Kool Aid and bought as much of liquid grape Kool Aid water enhancer as they had on the shelf. Eric loved to drink water but sometimes he wanted a little more flavor, and he liked grape. He headed over to the sporting goods section and bought a brick of .22 Long rifle bullets and surprisingly, a brick of .22 Shorts. At men’s clothing, he picked up three 3-packs of black pocket T-shirts. He looked around and found Alana in the women’s clothing section picking out denims and T-shirts. She got a denim vest to wear also. They went through the food shelves and Eric got two jars of smooth peanut butter and two loaves of farmer’s bread from the bakery section. They headed for the checkout and Alana fought to at least pay for her selections, but Eric ignored her. After storing their things away in the camper, Eric topped off his tanks at the Walmart gas station, then headed back to US 50 and went east.
They made it to Pueblo with no problems but skirted the town as much as possible. The whole town was like a third world ghetto. Staying on US 50, there wasn’t anything open for lunch, so Alana went through the pass-through and made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for them.
They finally stopped for the night at a Lowe’s Truck Stop in Holcomb, Kansas.
Topping the tanks, Eric moved the rig to the back of the parking lot. With the lounging truck seat and a jungle blanket, he slept quite comfortably that night. They were up early the next morning, had a good pancake breakfast, and were soon on the road before the sun rose.
Eric kept looking in his side mirrors at the building storm clouds to the west. He had been in many areas where weather could hit you with an exclamation point, so he was cautious. The clouds had built into a storm cell that could easily spawn one or more tornadoes. This was wide open country, and it wasn’t unusual to see tornadoes that could move rapidly across the countryside and the storm cell was gaining on them rapidly. Eric glanced into the mirror and saw the roping tail of a tornado touch down. Eric’s eyes began darting a few hundred meters ahead of the moving vehicle, looking for tell-tale signs and finally spotted what he was looking for. Glancing into the mirror again, the tornado had developed a wedge shape. When they built the interstate, the highway split some farms and ranches leaving hundreds of acres of farmland and pastures divided on each side of the highway. DOT had been forced to give access to farmers and ranchers to their land without crossing the interstate highway, so they built tunnels for the property owners to access their land by going under the highway. The tunnels were tall enough to run a combine through so he could easily fit the rig into one if he could just find one of the tunnels. Just west of Williamsburg, Kansas, Eric quickly slowed and pulled to the side of the highway. Putting the truck into six-wheel drive, Eric went down the embankment and pulled onto the farm road running under the interstate.
“What are you doing!” Alana squealed.
“We’ve got a tornado on our ass!” Eric replied.
Pulling into the tunnel, Eric shut the engine off and locked the brakes. They could hear the roar of the wind as the tornado drew nearer. Suddenly, three deer ran into the tunnel and stopped next to the truck and trailer, looking nervously around.
“Are we safe here?” Alana asked nervously.
“Safer than up top.” Eric said, taking a swig from his water bottle. “This tunnel is facing north and south while the tornado is heading west to east. We may get a little amplification of the wind in the tunnel, but it should be short lived.”
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Post by gipsy on Mar 13, 2024 9:56:44 GMT -6
Better then an underpass
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Post by cashless1 on Mar 13, 2024 10:03:11 GMT -6
thank you
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Post by feralferret on Mar 13, 2024 15:50:42 GMT -6
A culvert big enough for a truck. Beats having to abandon the vehicle and take cover in a smaller culvert.
Thank you, ncsfsgm.
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Post by ydderf on Mar 16, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -6
Thank you
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Post by ncsfsgm on Mar 20, 2024 9:19:34 GMT -6
Chapter 17
They did receive a little turbulence in the underpass, but the tornado veered to the northwest, so the winds weren’t so bad. As soon as the wind died down, the deer ran out and headed across a field. Eric deftly backed the truck and trailer out of the tunnel and headed back up the embankment. Changing back to two-wheel drive, Eric continued east on US 50. They could see at a distance, at times, the damage caused by the tornado. It looked as if the tornado had developed multiple vortices. Eric could see the cloud wall to the northwest as the tornado continued on its path of destruction.
Their next stop was at Bert’s Travel Plaza outside of Wellsville. Alana had to use the facilities and the fuel tanks were getting down to half full. Eric tried to keep the tanks above half.
In another 40 miles, they came up to Kansas City. Eric worked his way around the south side of the city to keep from going through the worst of it. When he got into Missouri, he took up I-49 and headed southeast.
“Where are you headed for in Missouri?” Alana asked.
“No place special. I figured I’d get you home before I made any more plans.” Eric responded.
“It’s a long way to Wallop Hollow.” Alana said.
“I’ve got nothing but time on my hands now.” Eric replied.
“Why did you say it like that?” Alana asked.
Eric opened up and told her about the last three years. “I’ve got nothing else to go back to and I thought I’d come back to the southeast and help those I could.”
“Oh Eric! I’m sorry! I didn’t know.” Alana said.
“It’s okay.” Eric shrugged. “Everything just goes on and everybody expects you to have tucked your grief away, but you haven't because there is no place to put it because the world just feels broken. Grief is a part of life and I’m trying to live with it, so I just decided to travel and fix some things. But it has been hard to handle. Do you know how there are those moments when I forget -- only during an instant -- that she is no longer here, so that the pain only smacks you in the face when you realize that you will never see her again? It’s like a jackhammer hitting you right in the face. I lost so much, but then I realized there is also so much beauty left in the world still."
“What do you do to cope?” Alana asked. “I was told from an early age not to show weakness. "Don’t ever let 'em see you cry, son," my grandfather had always told me. “If you let even your friends know that you had even a shred of emotion, like wolves, they'll turn on you and eat you alive.”
“I mostly keep to myself and talk to myself to keep from being lonely.”
Alana discretely wiped a tear out of her right eye. She hated to see someone hurt like Eric was hurting. “Conrad, I counted twenty sleeping spaces in that bunker, and they had maybe a year’s supply of food for two people.” Don said.
“Yeah, there are a couple of more storage rooms we didn’t cover but we were pretty full up with what we had. No use to advertise a lot of uncovered stuff coming out of there if we don’t have to.” Conrad replied.
“Can we get everything in one more trip?” Gabe asked.
“Yeah, we could if we take all the trucks and trailers, and plenty of tarps.” Conrad replied.
“Well, tell us when you want to make another trip and we’ll get it.” Don said.
“Let’s give it a few days and I’ll let you know when.” Conrad said. Eric and Alana made it to Camelot RV Campground and RV Park west of Poplar Bluff before nightfall. Once they were set up, Alana took a walk up to the camp office. When she returned, Eric was frying smoked sausage, potatoes, and onions on the Solo fire pit.
“Where were you planning to cross the Mississippi?” Alana asked.
“I’d planned to head down to Hayti and do the Ayer’s crossing.” Eric replied.
“The Dorena-Hickman ferry is still running. It is an hour shorter there.”
Eric grinned. “For me, it sounds like a good idea. There are storms building southwest of Little Rock and the sooner we are across the river the better I’ll like it. So now you are in a hurry to get home?”
“I’m just anxious to plant feet back in Tennessee.” Alana replied sullenly.
“Fine, we’ll try the ferry. If it happens not to be running, it’s not that difficult to get to the bridge from there.” Eric said.
Alana collected dinnerware and had it ready when Eric was ready to serve. They drank water with their meal and shared a cold beer after. The two shared dish duties and Alana took a shower while Eric stoked and gazed into the fire. He had unhooked the trailer and had the FMTV so he could use two attachment points to hang a hammock. When Alana saw what he had done, she asked if there was a way to hang another hammock. Eric got another hammock and hung it about six feet from his and got out two more jungle blankets.
“I figure the temperature won’t get below the 60’s tonight, so you should be comfortable.” Eric said.
“I like sleeping in the open air when I can have a comfortable choice.” Alana said.
“People seem to be traveling more, at least west of the river. We stopped here on our way back from our deployment and this place was deserted. At least the economy of the western states is better.” Eric commented.
“The Democrats are still spouting their rhetoric about “Saving Democracy” while stripping goods from the western states to feed their voters in the eastern cities. Their idea of Democracy is sure different from mine.” Alana added.
“Well, Democrats suffer from cognitive dissonance. In their self-imposed ignorance, their beliefs and reality are topsy-turvy.” Eric said. “They’ve misled their constituents into believing rubbish. They should feel utterly ashamed of themselves. They bear even more guilt than these uneducated goofs that echoed their bullshit.”
Alana made buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup the next morning. Alana cooked the bacon first while Eric dumped the cooled Solo and stored it back into the trailer. The kitchen was one-person territory, so Eric just stayed out of Alana’s way.
They arrived at New Madrid and followed the river around to the ferry land, and yes, it was running. It was just about to dock after returning from Hickman, Kentucky. Although the ferry worked, and could easily carry the weight, it wasn’t long enough to carry both the FMTV and the trailer at the same time. They decided to send the trailer over first with Alana and then Eric would bring the FMTV over. Eric tried to give Alana a pistol to take with her, she opened her vest far enough to see the butt of the pistol she was carrying. Eric backed the trailer onto the deck and Alana walked on and took a rail seat while the crew chocked the wheels. They slowly moved away from the loading ramp, allowing a large group of barges to pass, and were docking at Hickman twenty minutes later. The crewmembers unloaded the trailer and moved it out of the loading lanes and the ferry was soon back on its way to Dorena. No one approached Alana as she waited for Eric to catch up. Although she stayed alert, She let her mind drift a little.
The thought, “Although he didn't know it, he'd been looking for me.” ran through her mind, surprising herself. She hadn’t been looking for another attachment, but he was nice, and manly. She shut her thoughts down when she saw the ferry returning. When Eric drove off the ferry, the tension was so thick that one could have cut it with a knife.
They got the trailer hooked back up and prepared to leave. Eric emptied several jerry cans to top the fuel tanks off and they got into the cab.
“Which way now?” Alana asked.
“I figured to follow TN 22 on down to I-40 then work our way around Nashville, then pick up 40 again to Knoxville.” Erick said as they moved out of Hickman.
“Sounds good.”
They found diesel fuel at Casey’s in Union City, but Eric filled only half the cans, not wanting to take too much fuel from the locals. While Eric was filling the containers, Alana went inside and inquired about RV parks, it was getting late in the afternoon. She got a couple of suggestions and went back out to help Eric.
“The clerk said there were a couple of RV parks near here.” Alana said as Eric shifted the truck into drive.
“Well, we’ll check it out. It is getting late.” Eric replied.
The first park was only a few blocks away but made Eric cringe. It was a mixture of old mobile homes and RV spaces.
“This place is a tornado magnet. Where’s the next place?” Eric asked.
Alana punched the address into the GPS navigation system. Coyote View RV park was just a few minutes away and suited Eric much better. They rented a pull-through space and settled in for the night. The only problem was the mosquitos, for which Eric added his net to his sleeping arrangements.
Eric boiled water and mixed up a two-person pouch of Mountain House Lasagna. They ate their meal and talked about various things.
Eric watched her talking about Wallop Hollow, her green eyes dancing, and thought that she was so easy to talk to. He felt like he had known her forever.
“So, why did you leave the Guard?” Alana asked.
“I got tired. 10% of servicemen were "Walter Mitty" characters who fabricated or exaggerated their experiences in life, especially in the military. I just didn’t want to hear any more of their exaggerated exploits. I wanted peace and quiet for a while. Don’t get me wrong, the rest of the guys and women were great, did and said things for the right reasons. I just needed to be by myself."
“I’m sorry, I have been a bother to you, haven’t I?” Alana asked.
“No, not at all. It has been pleasant having someone to talk to.” Eric replied.
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Post by gipsy on Mar 20, 2024 9:33:41 GMT -6
Thanks for the fine update.
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Post by rep1270 on Mar 20, 2024 18:24:23 GMT -6
Thank you. Ralph
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Post by ydderf on Mar 25, 2024 16:08:53 GMT -6
Thanks for the update
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Post by ncsfsgm on Mar 30, 2024 6:09:41 GMT -6
Chapter 19
Eric woke before dawn and built a fire in the Solo. He folded the cot tent and put it away, then hung up his sleeping bag to air out. Getting out a small camping Dutch oven, Eric greased it with a little lard and mixed up enough dough to make three biscuits. He got coals out of the Solo and made a bed of them to set the Dutch oven on then put more coals on the lid to bake his biscuits. Adding more wood to the fire, he heated up a frying pan and began frying the rest of the bacon left in the can. Eric went inside the camper and got a bottle of honey and a can of butter out of the small pantry. Setting a kettle at the edge of the frying pan to heat coffee, he took a deep drink out of his water bottle as he turned the bacon.
Eric checked the biscuits and added a few more coals to the top and under the oven. As he was mixing up powdered eggs to scramble, a vehicle topped the slope and drove into the open area.
Alana gulped when the headlights of the jeep illuminated the open area, and she didn’t see the truck or trailer. She drove to the far side and finally saw Eric stand up. Breathing a sigh of relief, she pulled to a stop at the edge of the wood line and got out, carrying a hand basket.
“Good morning!” Alana called out.
“And a good morning to you.” Eric smiled.
“I brought you some fresh eggs.” Alana said, handing the basket to Eric.
“Too late! I just mixed up powdered eggs and spring water.”
“You can have the fresh eggs tomorrow.” Alana said.
“Well, I appreciate them.” Eric replied. “Would you like a cup of coffee? It’s freeze dried.”
“Sure” Alana replied.
Eric checked the biscuits, tossed the lid coals off and removed the Dutch oven from off the coals. Getting two mugs, he made two coffees and handed Alana one.
Opening the can of butter with his Swiss Army Knife, Eric cut two pieces of butter, picked up a biscuit and poked a hole in the side of the biscuit with his index finger. Sliding in the two pieces of butter into the hole, Eric squirted honey in the hole and set the biscuit back in the oven.
“Do you want a honey biscuit? You can poke your own hole.” Eric said.
“Your finger is probably as clean as mine.” Alana said, grinning.
Eric made her a biscuit, wrapped it in a sheet of paper towel, and handed it to her.
“The coffee is good, for not being perked coffee.” Alana commented. “You are really comfortable camping out like this, aren’t you?”
“Doesn’t take much to make me comfortable.” Replied Eric. “I guess you could say I’m a minimalist. Sometimes I think I was born 150 years too late.”
Eric shared his breakfast with Alana, and she helped him clean up. Eric made more coffee and they sat and enjoyed it in the early morning. Alana glanced over and saw Eric staring into the fire.
“What are you thinking about?” Alana asked.
"The cycle of life.” Eric replied. “From the age when we start learning to walk to the early teens, humans instinctively learn from their mistakes. From the late teens to the forties, No one can remember the past to keep from repeating it. From the forties on humans try to tell the younger generations to remember the past and their mistakes but it is just like talking to a canyon. Until people begin remembering history, civilization will continue taking one step forward and two steps back.”
“Sad, but true.” Alana agreed.
“What are you going to do now?” Alana asked.
“Well, I’ve achieved my goal of coming back to this area, or close to it. I’m just going to take a few days and think things out. Maybe travel around some.” Eric said.
“Come on, let’s take a walk down to the lake.” Alana said, pulling on Eric’s arm.
They walked down a gentle slope, following an existing game trail to within 40 feet of the water. The water level of the lake fluctuated as water was let out due to downriver needs, which left a steep slope from the woods to the actual edge of the water.
“It’s easier to get to the water if you follow Cool Branch road down to the lake. We’ve got a floating dock set up there and keep a boat tied up in the warmer months.” Alana explained.
They continued following the trail to where the trail led over the edge of the drop off. You could see where deer had sort of slid down the slope. Alana balanced herself and slid down to the bottom, with Eric following. They walked generally northeast along the lake until they came to a cove with a floating dock. There was no beach around their side of the cove and had to negotiate the trees that ran down to the water’s edge to get around the cove, cross the branch, and get onto the road.
“If I come back here, I think I’ll stick to the road.” Eric said, smiling.
“Yes, It would be a bit easier.” Alana agreed.
It was about 500 meters farther, but they walked the roads back to Eric’s camp. They sat and drank water for a while before Alana said she had to get back to the farm because Papa was killing a hog that morning and she had her part she had to do. Eric walked her to her jeep and said he would see her in a while. He watched the jeep leave the clearing and head down the hill. He took his sleeping bag out and propped it up to let the sun hit on it a bit while he straightened out his camp, not that it needed much. He went around and tightened up guy lines on the tarp support poles then rolled out the Rokon. Gathering up the sleeping bag, he tossed it in the camper and locked everything up. Getting on the Rokon, he pulled the starter rope and headed for the Cooke farm.
When Eric arrived, Earl and Andy were finishing cutting up the hog carcass while John was salting down hams, neckbones, and hocks in the smokehouse. Alana and Lucy were rendering lard in a cast iron butchering kettle on a low tripod stand over a fire; Alana stirring with a paddle stick and Lucy was straining the top scum off of the melted fat with a homemade strainer cloth on a hooped stick.
Conrad took down the venison haunches out of the smoke house and took them to the table. Cutting off what he wanted to keep, he separated the rest into two packages and wrapped them up in butcher paper and placed them in his pack. He’d deliver the bundles of meat to Valencina and Bill before he headed to Gabe’s.
Don and Gabe were cleaning out the irrigation channel to the garden from the pond when Conrad found them. The channel filled in each fall and winter with leaves. If they could find enough 4” drainpipe, they would run the irrigation water underground.
“Tomaters are lookin’ good.” Conrad said.
“Yeah, we put plenty of compost in the bottom of the holes before we planted them.” Gabe said. “They are blooming like crazy, and we should get a good crop if we can keep the hornworms off of them. I’ve got plenty of Neem oil stocked up.”
Don had already sprayed the potatoes and tomatoes with Neem oil so they shouldn’t see many problems. They’d doubled the number of potatoes they’d planted from last year’s crop, mainly because people were eager to trade for them. People were also willing to trade for seed potatoes, but Don and Gabe only had around 100 pounds left over. They doubled up on butternut winter squash also. Those stored well and people eagerly traded for them.
Eric helped dip melted fat out of the kettle with a quart pot with a long wooden handle and fill lard tins. As he got down toward the bottom of the kettle, Lucy began using a dipping strainer to collect the cracklings out of the pot, draining them on what looked like a screen door.
Eric took over the lard rendering while Lucy went inside to make dinner. She’d taken a good bit of pork loin to fry up. Alana washed the liver in a wash tub until the water ran clear and took it in to cook to make liver pudding.
Earl and Andy had finished up and washed down their table and sawhorses. John had finished in the smoke house and walked over to join them at the kettle, watching Eric stir the melting cubes of fat. Andy helped fill the lard tins and Eric scooped the cracklings out of the kettle. They set the kettle off of the fire to cool and John appeared with a gallon plastic jug filled with homebrew beer. They passed the jug around and Eric was amazed how cold the beer was. John said he’d kept it in the milk cooler near the smokehouse. The spring would keep it cold enough to give you a headache if you drank too fast.
They gathered up the drained cracklings, put them in a container and went to wash up for dinner. Lucy had prepared fried breaded pork loin, mustard greens, boiled potatoes, and cornbread. Alana was placing an apple cobbler in the oven as they entered the dining area.
Eric groaned. He knew he would need a nap this afternoon.
The meal was delicious and as he suspected, Eric was groggy, especially after cleaning his plate and the apple cobbler.
Eric thanked the Cooke family for the lunch, or dinner as they called it. Eric rode the Rokon back and slung up his hammock. He fell asleep in a short time and woke an hour later. Getting a drink of water, he filled his canteen bottle and grabbed his day pack. He wanted to stretch his legs. He’d been a bit sedentary since he’d arrived at Wallop Cove.
Eric mainly followed the contour of the shoreline of the lake to the southwest until he saw the roof of a house through an opening in the trees. He stopped and listened, not hearing any signs of activity, he turned and went back the way he had come at an angle.
“A body could amble up on a bear rambling around like you are doing all quiet like.” A voice said. Eric stopped and looked up the slope. Sitting in a stick-built chair next to a wooden structure sat an old woman with a shotgun in her hands.
“Didn’t mean to scare ya none. There’s been a black bear messing’ with my spring house. You that boy what brung Lannie back home?" The lady asked.
“Uh…yes ma’am. My name is Eric Bateman.”
“You can call me Aunt Sally. Everybody else around here does.”
"There really is a bear around here?” Eric asked.
”See here on the spring house where he was trying to claw it open." Aunt Sally said.
Eric inspected the spring house and saw the claw marks where the bear had tried to rake the latch open. It was nothing but a heavy-duty padlock hasp held shut by a snap clip.
“Yes ma’am, a bear has been trying to get in.” Eric said.
“it’s my own fault. I made cheese and ran out of paraffin to cover the cheese and brought a round down here to keep it from spoiling. I guess that bear is partial to my cheese.” Aunt Sally said.
“Yes ma’am. I suspect he is.” Eric said, chuckling.
“Well, you need to be a might more careful with bears around these parts.” Aunt Sally warned.
“And nice old ladies with shotguns, I imagine.” Eric said grinning.
Eric made his way back to his camp and reminded himself not to leave food or remnants out around here. When he got back to the camper, Eric reloaded his magazines with 230 grain +P full metal jacket rounds. Although not as good as the 454 Casull or 44 magnum, they were better than a pointy stick. He was confident he could shoot the eyes out of a bear with his G21.
A little breeze was blowing so Eric strung up a line and draped his jungle blankets over it to air out. Around 1500, Alana drove up in her Jeep.
“I was going down to Liberty Hill Market for Mama and wanted to see if you needed anything or wanted to ride with me.” Alana said.
“I’ll ride with you. I don’t know what they have so I don’t know what I might want.” Eric said.
They got in the Jeep and Eric set up his hand-held GPS to record the route.
“Do you like liver pudding?" Alana asked.
“I do. I like it fried with eggs for breakfast or just in a sandwich.” Eric replied.
“Good, we’ll stop by the house on the way back and pick you up a block.” Alana said.
Liberty Hill Market turned out to be just under two and a quarter miles by road from the Cooke farmstead. It was a square standing brick building in a “Y’ intersection. There were a couple of pickup trucks parked in front. Advertising for tackle, boots, and other things lined the windows. It seemed to be just a local general store than the market Eric had envisioned. The went in a were greeted by a shopkeeper who addressed Alana by name.
“Lannie! Good to see you! How can I help you?” the lady asked.
"First, I need some cheesecloth.” Alana said.
They walked over to a wide long table where the shopkeeper effortlessly placed a large roll of cheesecloth on a holder and pulled a length down the table.
“How much do you need, Dear?” The shopkeeper asked.
“Make it six feet.” Alana replied.
The shopkeeper drew the length of cloth out to a mark on the table and trimmed the length off of the roll with a pair of scissors.
After the cloth was folded up neatly, it was tied with a length of string.
“What now, dear?”
After rattling off a few things, the shopkeeper gathered the things, brought them to the counter, and lined them up. Eric walked the aisles looking at things while they gathered the things Alana wanted. Eric stopped at the tool area and hand tools seemed to be hand forged and of the old style. Hand scythes, full scythes, axes, hatchets, mattocks, shovels, and hand drills lined the shelves. Eric picked out a hand drill and a round wooden case of drill bits and moved on. He continued looking and listening to Alana and the shopkeeper talk.
“Your Pa got any more plugs?” The shopkeeper asked.
“They are making more today. They should be ready by Saturday.” Alana replied.
Eric kept walking the aisles and found a Ulu-type knife that was razor sharp and had its own leather sheath. He took his selections up to the counter as the shopkeeper was tallying up Alana’s selections. She wrote the amount in a ledger and began bagging the purchases. Eric laid his selections on the counter and asked, “Do you take gold as payment?”
“Dust, nuggets or coin?” The shopkeeper asked.
“Coin.”
“Well, I can only give you change is nuggets we can weigh out.” The shopkeeper replied.
“Just use the rest on the Cooke account.” Eric said, flipping an American Liberty One-Tenth Ounce Gold Coin onto the counter.
“Eric no!” Alana exclaimed.
“We’ll talk about it later.” Eric said.
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Post by sniper69 on Mar 30, 2024 7:28:28 GMT -6
ncsfsgm - Great chapter. I think chapter 18 might not have been posted yet.
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Post by gipsy on Mar 30, 2024 9:33:51 GMT -6
Cool update. Thanks.
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Post by rep1270 on Mar 30, 2024 10:17:50 GMT -6
Thank you. Ralph
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Post by ncsfsgm on Mar 30, 2024 14:35:54 GMT -6
ncsfsgm - Great chapter. I think chapter 18 might not have been posted yet. Oops! sorry. Chapter 18 The group finally retrieved the last of the food supplies, which also contained water purification units and related supplies. Conrad also took the shelter binder with him. They took everything to the storage shelter and inventoried it. They had been taking some of the staples down to the barter meet to trade as they saw the needs of the community change. Salt was a big thing, A lot of the people were preserving meat, and the body couldn’t function without a little salt. Conrad had a backup plan but wasn’t ready to reveal it at that time.
Alana and Eric slept comfortably that night and fixed a breakfast of pancakes and bacon for breakfast. Eric found two service stations that had diesel and topped off his tanks and jerry cans. He also found a farm store where he picked up six 12’x12’ tarps. Tarps always came in handy. They also had bank line and tins of assorted fishhooks, so he picked up six rolls of the bank line and four tins of hooks.
On their last leg to Knoxville, they managed to navigate around the town centers. They turned off I-40 before getting to Knoxville, skirted Oak Ridge and arrived at Alana’s home place on the shores of Norris Lake a little before 1500.
Eric followed Alana’s directions, having long gone off the GPS’s map. He was in virgin territory. It seemed they had passed enough churches to bury the whole population of Tennessee. He noticed at a couple of country stores the lights were on, so they had gotten electricity re-established to this area. It was a good thing. The store shelves were sparsely stocked. (Who the hell ate collard greens and turnips from a can?) Alana had him turn right at a T-intersection, where a church promptly dominated the intersection and said they were on their last leg. They came to another T-intersection and Alana directed him onto a one-lane paved lane bordered by a sloped pasture and a small stream. Alana called it Cool Branch and said it ran all the way to Norris Lake. Eric kept his speed low as Alana pointed out off-shooting lanes and proceeded to tell him who lived or used to live up those lanes. She had finally realized some people weren’t going to make it through this mess. They finally came to a cluster of buildings that had three dwellings. Alana pointed out her parents’ house, her brother Earl, and her brother Andy’s houses. She had him pull up in front of her home place and quickly jumped out of the truck. Eric set the brakes, shut the truck off, and got out. Men were coming out of the houses with rifles in their hands. Alana squealed as she ran to a woman and hugged her.
Eric did a walk around of the truck and came back around to stop at the front of the truck.
“Eric! Come here and meet my folks!” Alana said smiling.
Eric walked up the stone steps dug into the slope.
“Papa, Mamma, this is Eric Bateman, my knight in shining armor. Eric, this is my father John Cooke and my mother, Lucy Cooke.” Alana introduced.
Eric blushed. “Well, I don’t know about the knight stuff, but I’m pleased to meet you.”
Alana’s brothers, Earl and Andy joined them and were introduced.
“We appreciate you helping Lannie get back to us.” Earl said.
“I was happy to help.” Eric replied.
“Let’s get you two settled in and something cool to drink.” Lucy said.
They all walked into the house and settled at the kitchen table. Lucy poured iced tea with ICE, which surprised Eric.
John grinned. “Yeah, we got electricity. Had it since right after the public power went down. At least Earl and Andy learned a few things at those schools they went to.”
“Lannie, we can make up the other master bedroom for you and Eric after you’ve rested.”
Both Eric and Alana blushed, which drew John’s attention.
“Mamma! We’re not like that! I was just hitchin’ a ride with him and he was nice enough to bring me straight home. He has been the perfect gentleman!” Alana protested.
“I’ll just need a place to set up my rig for camping.” Eric said.
“I’d like to check out your rig. It looks like it could take you most anywhere.” Andy said.
“Sure, No problem. I just need a relatively flat space that’ll hold the truck and trailer, and I’ll be fine.” Eric replied.
“Andy, why don’t you take Eric and show him around and pick him a spot.” John said.
“I was thinking at the end of Hickory Hill road.” Andy said.
“Perhaps. See if it suits Eric.” John replied.
Alana’s eyes followed Eric as he and Andy got up and went out the door.
Earl grinned. “Maybe no hanky-panky went on but you’re sweet on him, aren’t you?”
“Hush! He’s just a nice guy.” Alana sputtered.
Lucy cleared her throat and got up to begin supper. Alana cleared the glasses and began helping her mother.
Andy walked over to a dune buggy looking contraption and motioned Eric in. They took off on down the road, passing a couple of houses Andy said uncles and cousins lived in. They took a left fork and began climbing a gentle slope that soon leveled out. At the end of the indicated road was a space big enough to swing an 18-wheeler around.
“Will this do?” Andy asked.
“It will be fine.” Eric replied.
Don began tilling in compost and manure into the garden and greenhouse planting beds. They strung up the gravity fed mist sprinklers for a half-day of watering. They would wait a day before planting and the soil would be just right. They had started plants from seeds gathered from the Tough Hill heirloom and survival seed collections they had found. Careful thought was given to what and when each variety was planted to use as much of the growing season as possible. If they were lucky, they would have a late start of winter.
Eric drove his rig up to the hill and walked the tree line, taking measurements. Picking a spot, he backed the trailer under the hickory trees. Next to it was another space the truck would fit in. It worked out well because he had room between the trees to place his tarps. Andy quickly pitched in and helped string up the tarp awnings. Andy was amazed at how quickly Eric could set up. After Eric did his initial setup, he got out an axe, saw, and a folding deer cart and began gathering firewood.
“You don’t have a chain saw?” Andy asked.
“Too noisy.” Eric replied.
Andy raised an eyebrow and nodded.
They gathered a couple of carts of wood, which would last the night, Eric got out the Solo fire pit and built a small fire in it.
“Ma’s gonna expect you for supper.” Andy said.
Eric nodded, unfolded a couple of camp chairs, and offered Andy one.
“Do you have a bed in this thing?” Andy asked.
“Yep. That’s where your sister slept. I slept outside either in a hammock or a camping cot tent.” Eric replied.
“Camping cot tent? I’ve seen them in pictures but have never used one.” Andy said.
Eric went to the back of the trailer and pulled his out, unfolded it and unzipped the zippers.
“Go ahead, try it out.” Eric said.
A grinning Andy got up and lay down on the cot and stretched out. “Hey! Two people could get in here!” Andy said.
“Like I say, ‘Sleeps one, bunks two.’”
Andy grinned and got up. “What about when it rains?”
“There’s a waterproof cover for it if you can’t put it under a tarp.” Eric replied. “What are the temperatures up here at night?”
“Bouncing around in the 40’s.” Andy replied.
Eric got out a lighter sleeping bag and tossed it in the cot tent.
“You’re not sleeping in the camper tonight?” Andy asked.
The heating and cooling work off the batteries that are charged by solar panels on top. I’m under the trees now. If the batteries do run low, the truck will start up automatically and recharge the batteries. I’d rather it not do that.” Eric explained. “Anyway, I’d rather sleep outside."
“We’d best be getting back to the house for supper. Ma doesn’t tolerate tardiness.”
“Just a minute.” Eric said.
He winched the Rokon down and went inside and got Alana’s pack.
“I’m ready.” Eric said.
John was sitting on the porch in a rocking chair, smoking his pipe, when they drove up.
“Light!, Light!” John said when they shut down their engines. Andy and Eric took seats in chairs on the porch. Eric smelled some delicious smells drifting through the screen door.
“You get set up okay?” John Asked Eric.
“Yes Sir. Everything is just fine.” Eric replied.
“Pa, you need to see his setup. He’s got everything backed under the trees and you can hardly tell anything is there from across the clearing.”
“Signs of a careful man.” John said, puffing on his pipe. “Eric, Lannie said you had lost your wife. Is that why you’re out roaming the country?”
Eric looked up from the porch floor and answered. “I only had two options; give up, or get up and move on.”
“Y’all come on in and eat before it gets cold!” Alana said through the screen door.
They rose and John nudged Eric ahead of him through the door. They sat at a big table in the dining area. On the table was a platter stacked with fried chicken, bowls of beans and mustard greens, mashed potatoes, and a warming basket of cornbread. Two steaming pies sat on a sideboard. Eric hadn’t known it, but Earl and Andy’s wives had been helping in the kitchen and the chairs around the table were full, with Earl’s 3-year-old daughter occupying a seat next to Lucy.
The food was passed around the table and Lucy made sure Eric’s plate was filled. Any fuller and he would have needed side planks. And it was just as delicious as it smelled.
Eric finally had to beg Lucy not to add more food to his plate as he was eating.
"Lucy! Leave the man alone! You’re gonna cause him to founder. He needs room for a slice of pie." John admonished his wife, but good naturedly.
Eric finally cleared his plate and Alana asked Eric whether he preferred apple or blackberry pie. Eric selected blackberry. Alana set the slice of pie and a cream picture in front of him. Eric hesitated and Alana poured fresh cream over the pie.
All eyes were on him as he took his first bite of pie. It was delicious! John smiled and he selected a slice of apple pie.
When supper was over, the men retired to the porch to let their meal settle. Soon, Earl slid a gallon glass jug out from under a bench, took a swig from it and passed it to his Pa. John took a swig and passed the jug to Eric. Eric braced himself and took a swig. It burned but wasn’t as bad as some he’d had up in Kentucky.
“We cut that with pure limestone filtered spring water.” John said.
“Better than a lot I have where my head felt like it was going to explode.” Eric said, grinning.
“Yep. We get some pretty good trades and prices when anyone has money.” John said.
Eric passed the jug to Andy who swallowed a bit. Soon, the ladies came out and seats were given to them. Eric moved down to sit at the top of the steps and leaned against a porch post.
“Y’all seem to be getting by well here.” Eric commented.
“Yes. We have beef, milk cows, chickens, and grow our own vegetables.” John said. "I grow a little tobacco, make plug, and pipe tobacco to trade."
“We get fish outta thuh lake too!” Andy added.
“Yes, you have a nice setup here.” Eric said. “How did you get electricity after the commercial power went out.”
“Well, I had a run of luck one time and had enough money to send the boys and Lannie to college. The boys came back with some highfalutin’ ideas.”
“UT had a course in alternative power, and I got interested in hydroelectric.” Andy said. “I gathered the parts to build our own mini hydroelectric setup. We gathered enough stuff and made it large enough to outfit everyone’s house and stored it in the storm cellar until we had time to put everything together. We were harvesting crops during that time and had to hold off. After we realized the power wasn’t coming back soon, we started building.”
“We had always had the habit of keeping enough food on hand for a year, but I traded a lot of squeezings for food to add to our stocks. The men, and women, in these parts like a little drink now and agin’,” John added.
Eric stood up and walked to the Rokon. Unstrapping Alana’s pack from the cargo shelf, he took it back to the porch and handed it to her.
“Thank you Eric.” She said.
“Well, that meal has got me almost falling asleep.” Eric said. “I’d better head back while I can still ride. Lucy, ladies, that was the best meal I’ve had in a very long time, and that blackberry pie was manna from heaven.”
“Lannie made the pies.” Elsie, Earl’s wife said.
“Well, all you ladies are definitely good cooks. I guess I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Eric said. He pulled the starter rope and rode slowly down the drive.
When Eric got back to his camp, he took two tarps out that had the same camo pattern as his rig and draped them over the front of the FMTV and the trailer. Grabbing his toilet kit, he set up the shower and had a relaxing shower before turning in. A cool breeze was blowing off the lake as Eric snuggled into his sleeping bag.
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Post by gipsy on Mar 30, 2024 14:55:53 GMT -6
Fine update. Thanks.
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Post by ydderf on Mar 31, 2024 19:05:45 GMT -6
Thanks for the update.
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Post by ncsfsgm on Apr 4, 2024 17:31:31 GMT -6
Chapter 20
Alana pulled out of the parking lot in front of the market.
“You shouldn’t have paid.” Alana said. “You’re a guest!”
Eric waved a hand at her. “I don’t need to be carrying around loose gold.”
Alana hit the brakes, shifted gears, and turned onto Elm Springs Ridge Road.
“Papa is not going to like it!” Alana complained.
“Then don’t tell him.” Eric said.
She gave him a quick glare and nothing more was said until they got back to the farmstead. Eric helped carry the bags into the house. John and his two sons were working outside a shed and Eric walked over to see what they were doing. Earl and Andy were smoothing cured tobacco leaves out on a table and laying each one carefully in a jig. After each stemless leaf was laid down and smoothed out, John would paint them with thin brown liquid. As each jig was filled, the jig was removed and set in a press with a cover clamped on. and another jig was laid on the table to be filled. Several jigs were sitting on another table that needed to be emptied.
“What are you doing here?” Eric asked.
“Makin’ plug tobacco.” Earl replied. “Ain’t as good as Days Work but folks do with what they’ve got.”
Andy went over and began disassembling the pressed jigs from the drying shed and laying the blocks of tobacco out to be cut. When the jigs had been filled and pressed, then placed in the drying shed John brought out the plug cutter. It looked like a paper cutter but was razor sharp. As John cut the plugs, Earl was stacking them in a wooden box that reminded Eric of those novelty Remington ammo boxes. They cut enough plugs to cut two boxes full which Andy took to the market to be sold or traded. Each box would bring $400.00.
Alana came back out to run Eric back to his camp. She had changed into a light sweater and tight blue jeans. Her sweater didn't hide the swell of her 34D bust and the jeans emphasized her trim waist and the curve of her butt. But even better she had a block of wrapped liver pudding and a loaf of fresh bread in her hand.
John and his sons watched as the two got in the Jeep and headed to Eric’s campsite.
Earl grinned. “Lannie’s got her cap set and tied down.”
“Leave ‘em be.” John said. “She’s a growed woman and can make up her own mind.”
When Alana stopped the Jeep, Eric turned to her. "I apologize for overstepping my bounds at the market. It wasn’t that much money, and I really didn’t want to be carrying loose gold.”
Alana gave a weak smile and said, “I understand, but Papa is proud. He does everything he can to support his kin. Papa has lived on this land all of his life, as well as his father and grandfather, and great grandfather before him.”
“I understand.” Eric said. “I’ll watch my step from here on.”
“It’s not your fault. Papa believes America is in a quickly draining whirlpool of moral, spiritual, and cultural decline. He believes in protecting his kinfolk and neighbors from the insanity the has befallen this country. That’s in all aspects of our lives.”
“I understand.” Eric said. “He seems to be a good man.”
“Why don’t you come back up about dark?” Alana asked. "It’s Friday night and we and some of the kinfolk all sit around the fire pit, sing some songs, and have a good time. Papa plays his fiddle; Earl has a banjo, and Andy plucks on the guitar. We have a good time.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then.” Eric said.
When Alana returned home, Earl was grinning like a Billy Goat smelling his own piss.
“You just can’t stay away from him, can you?” Earl said, grinning.
“Hush your mouth, Earl Cooke!”
“Lannie, he does have a point. It’s getting to be a little unseemly you spending so much time with him." Lucy said. “Mama, we haven’t even kissed!”
“Well, you just be careful.” John said. “Even a little kiss can lead to some serious stuff, at least that’s the way I am around your mother.” Lucy blushed and scurried into the kitchen.
Eric strung up his hammock and laid down for a nap. "Some days you are the statue, some days you are the pigeon,” thought Eric as he pulled down his cap bill over his eyes. He was back in one of his moods and needed the rest. Eric’s ennui didn’t come from the memory of his wife being killed though.
Two hours later, Eric awoke with a start. He opened his eyes, desperately catching fragments of the elusive dream. But, alas, they seeped through his brain like melted water and vanished from his memory forever. Eric sighed heavily, got out of the hammock, and built a fire in the Solo to put the kettle on. A few minutes later, the titanium kettle hummed merrily, heralding that the boiling water would soon be ready. Eric supposed the fragmented dreams would be a part of his life for some time to come. He used them as a guide to make sure he didn’t fall into the same traps he’d found himself in before. Life was too short to have to continue to live that way. He guessed each relationship had the Sword of Damocles hanging over it, in other words, the possibility of infidelity of the partner. The boundaries he had set were from Carrie’s death and were a constant reminder she had died after pulling out in front of a concrete truck after leaving the parking lot of the Budget Inn at 3:00 PM in the afternoon. He didn’t want to hook up with a town bike again. So, Eric had worn a silicone wedding band on his left hand to act as a reminder and to ward off possible interested women since just after he put everything together.
The coffee helped drive the fuzziness from his brain and Eric began to feel better. He changed into a pair of swim shorts, grabbed a fresh t-shirt and towel, and slipped his boots back on. Straddling the Rokon, he pulled the rope and rode down to the floating dock at the lake. Slipping off his shirt and his boots, Eric took a running dive into the lake and gasped. The water was colder than he had suspected it would be. Eric continued and swam 100 meters out into the lake and then swam back to the dock. Climbing out onto the dock, Eric quickly toweled dry and shivered. That definitely cleared the cobwebs from his brain. Putting the clean pocket t-shirt on along with his boots, he rode back to the camp and made another cup of coffee.
Conrad had been working for months on his plans and materials for his build. He’d debarked and squared all the logs, used a contour gauge to transfer the contour from the present logs to the ends of the logs in the new room. When the lag bolts were tightened down, the new logs would tighten up with a weather tight joint. He had marked each of the new logs with a wood chisel so he could emplace them in the right order. Half dovetail notches had been cut in the rest of the new log ends for the rest of the new room’s walls.
Bill and Andy laid the next log and painted liquid rubber on the end of the log. Once the log was in place, Conrad screwed the lag bolt in, drawing the log tight against the wall of the cabin. After Conrad had tightened the lag bolt, Andy screwed in two timber screws to further anchor the log and laid another strip of foam insulation on the top of the log. They had laid half the logs so far that morning. Work sure went faster when you had plenty of hands.
The fire in the pit was burning high when Eric arrived. A swing-away grate over the fire held pieces of sausage to snack on and the men were warming up their musical instruments. Earl was tuning the banjo and began picking a slow tune. Aunt Sally was there and began strumming a lap autoharp. The firelight accented Eric’s smile when he recognized Earl and Aunt Sally playing “Hotel California.” He picked out a block of a tree trunk from the wood pile and set it in an empty area near the players.
Eric was introduced to relatives and neighbors from as far away as Liberty Hill and Elm Springs. Jugs of ‘shine and beer were passed around as well as some spiked lemonade for the ladies if they so wanted. In between the instrumentals and the singing, discussions would start, and the jugs passed around once again. Eric accepted the beer jug but shied away from the ‘shine. He was riding back in the dark on a trail bike. When the discussions got too serious, more music was played.
“John, why would the people in power leave our country open for anyone in the world to waltz in and potentially bring with them foreign terrorists, crime, disease, drugs, a welfare mentality, and illiteracy?”
“The only answer I got Jeb; is some people just want to watch the world burn.” John answered.
Andy quickly began picking a lively Bluegrass tune with the other instruments joining in as they picked up the beat. The semi-party went on for about three more hours before Jeb got up, raised the whiskey jug, and quoted a verse from “The Parting Glass,”
“A man may drink and not be drunk A man may fight and not be slain A man may court a pretty girl And perhaps be welcomed back again But since it has so ought to be By a time to rise and a time to fall Come fill to me the parting glass Good night and joy be with you all Good night and joy be with you all.”
After taking a final swig from the jug, Jeb was led away by his wife.
Eric stayed a while longer and had developed only a slight buzz, not partaking from the whiskey jug. If he had been any worse off, he would have left his Rokon at the Cooke’s and walked the some odd 600 meters back to the camp. He stood up and thanked everyone for the hospitality and entertainment, got on his Rokon and drove slowly away. Eyes followed him as he left.
“That man’s awful quiet.” one of the cousins remarked.
“He’s carrying some baggage and not ready to set it aside just yet.” John said.
Earl grinned. “I think Lannie’s making plans on lightening his load.”
Alana said nothing, just sitting there staring into the dying flames.
Don, Naomi, and Ingrid were slicing tomatoes for drying. Luckily, they had plenty of olive oil from the stocks brought from the Rock House. They were now eating a lot more fresh salads as the vegetables matured.
Conrad and the brothers finally got the log trusses in place and screwed down. They sheathed the roof and would finish the shakes by the next day. For flooring inside the addition, he would be using composite decking. It wasn’t traditional, but it was durable, and no one usually would see it but him anyway. He had found the decking at a home improvement store outside of Boone. It had been ordered by a man who never picked it up and the manager was excited to get rid of it, especially for the elk Conrad had shot back in March. Elk had been rare and had stayed in only a couple of areas of the Park but had started migrating. No park rangers nor game wardens had been seen in ages, so Conrad took the chance.
They had to hand-dig the septic field but at least he would have his indoor toilet for the first time since he had come here. It would be a relief to use in the wintertime. Conrad set up the bedroom in the new room and had a portion of it walled off to extend his pantry. Hanging the doors, putting in, and framing the windows out was easily done then Conrad did the chinking himself. He wanted to make sure it was done right. He had squared the timbers so water would drain easily down the walls and a bad area of chinking would catch water and cause those areas to rot. Conrad was pleased when the job was done. The old cabin had been tight to live in and now it was roomier. The last thing he was going to do was refloor the porch with the decking that was left over. He was removing the floorboards when Don and Naomi walked up with Sabra. Naomi had brought some canned tomatoes and pickles, so they took the afternoon off from gardening chores to bring them to Conrad.
“I’m tickled to see you two! Hello Sabra!” Conrad said as he scratched the dog’s ears.
“Looks like you’ve finished your construction.” Don said, setting down his pack filled with the canned food.
“We brought you some house-warming gifts,” Naomi said, setting her pack down and pulling out the curtains. “I didn’t have any curtain rods, so I ran lengths of #550 cord through them. You can drive nails to hold the cords.”
“Why thank you Honey! They will be nice.” Conrad said. Don opened his pack and brought out the cloth-wrapped jars and they all three took them inside and placed them in the pantry. “I sure appreciate the gifts. How are y’all getting along?”
‘We’re doing fine. Spending a lot of time putting away vegetables.” Naomi answered. “I’ll bring y’all up a couple of roasts from the bear that’s been fooling around down here and getting too familiar.” Conrad said.
“We’ll certainly appreciate them.” Don said. “You just be careful.”
“Here, you might as well take back the empty jars,” Conrad handing jars off the pantry shelf and handing them to Don. Don wrapped the jars in the cloths that had protected the filled jars and placed them in his and Naomi’s packs.
They heard Sabra growl and Conrad quickly grabbed the lever-action rifle from beside the door and stepped onto the porch. Before Don could look out, Conrad’s rifle fired.
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Post by gipsy on Apr 4, 2024 18:44:23 GMT -6
Bear meat for supper. Thanks
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Post by ydderf on Apr 5, 2024 17:24:25 GMT -6
Thanks for the update. Just so you know I have Cremnophobia.
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Post by gipsy on Apr 5, 2024 21:07:59 GMT -6
I'll bite. What is that?
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