Wednesday, October 19, 2005



Our trip to FIJI was to be one of our most memorable experiences ever. The sights, the sounds, the smells all come together to make Fiji something exciting and pleasant, yet different from anything we have previously known. Our Worldmark Resort was amazing! It boasts the longest swimming pool in the Southern Hemisphere. I swam in it everyday and believe it was! One day we decided to take a hike……

The Mountains of Fiji
The mountains are not so rugged; more like rolling hills, heavily volcanic in nature. The land is covered with thick, tall grasses and all kinds of bushes and trees. A type of Pine tree grows plentifully. Bushes are thick and easily hide the local animals, including the Wild Pig, often hunted by the Fijians with sharp bamboo sticks. Vegetation includes Lemon, Guava and other tropical fruit type trees. Coconut trees are plentiful and usually loaded with coconuts.

We began our trip at the top of a 3000 foot mountain and walked down the back side to the lower elevations. We looked at a place along the cliffs where people used to live in caves, cut into the cliffs. The Fijians were in hiding years ago from the Cannibals.

The Fijian Village
It is customary in Fijian culture for one’s knees to be covered, especially when entering a village or entertaining guests. It is otherwise, a sign of disrespect. We Americans were given the option. The Fijians were glad that we chose to show respect for their culture.

The Fijian village was a stark contrast to our own neighborhoods. The houses were very small, open to the world, without windows or doors. The better houses were built out of corrugated sheet metal pieces, thatched roofs and curtains; others out of poles and grass. Floors and walls may be covered with woven palm leaves.

The large hut, made from thatch, leaves and bamboo was a central meeting place for gatherings and ceremonies. It was a place where the Kava Ceremony was held. Kava is a Fijian drink made from the root of a certain plant.

We were guests (although we paid to have this ceremony and lunch prepared for us). The Kava Ceremony was performed as if we were guests of honor. The mixing of the water and powdered root was thorough. We were served in a cup made of Coconut shell. We would clap our hands three times, drink (bottoms up), return the cup and then clap three times again. After we each had a cup, we were given the option of another. The taste was similar to wet dirt, but some of us drank a second time. Following that, our lips began to tingle and go partially numb. Fijians will often sit for hours and drink this stuff, probably going numb all over, and waking up the next day without any side effects.

The Fijian lunch prepared for us was Taro Root, boiled; Taro Root cooked in Coconut Milk; and Taro Root some other way. We had a small portion of Deviled Ham and a few other dishes we could not spell. We drank lemonade. The Fijian Women would not eat until we had finished our lunch. It was their custom to wait until guests had eaten before the hosts would eat.

The children were fun loving and friendly. They wanted to be held, swung and pampered. They entertained us with the “tricks” they could do (like stand on a mound or beat on a log with a stick). Their clothes were well used and plain. They were barefoot and shirtless. Their hands were rough; their smiles warm. They enjoyed life.

We commented about the poverty and lack of electricity or running water or indoor facilities. Our guide agreed they were poor but “they had all they needed” to be happy. It did not seem to faze them that people like us were “rich”, having all the things they do not have.

The day we were there, the villagers were preparing a feast of a cow they found on someone else’s property because they could not kill a wild pig.

You should visit Fiji sometime……It’s a great experience.

Thursday, October 13, 2005





The Sorghum Experience:

As a kid growing up in the hills of backwoods Arkansas,with the nearest neighbor almost a mile away, there wasn’t much for us kids to do in the quiet of summertime on a 360 acre farm. We kept busy working in the oversized garden raising our own food that was home canned and put away for the winter month’s meals. We also took care of farm animals that furnished us with meat, eggs and milk. We smoked bacon and hams and bartered with the neighbors, exchanging one thing for another.

The annual Sorghum Party brought in neighbors from miles around, participating in the cooking of Sugar Cane juices to make the best Sorghum Molasses you’ve ever tasted. Those who helped with the processing were the ones who went home with several gallons of the stuff. I remember helping carry the cans to the filling table where the rich amber liquid syrup was poured into the brand new shiny one gallon cans. During the harvesting of the Sugar Cane, our horses were hitched to the wagon and we helped Dad and Grandpa load the bundles of cane into the wagon for transport to the cooking site. It was fun to sit on top of the cane pile for the quarter mile ride to the old Liken’s place where the squeezing, the cooking process took place.


The squeezing machine was fun to watch. It was a device that had a long pole that stuck out several feet from the center and attached to the Mule. As the Mule walked around in a circle, the gears would turn and the operator would feed small bundles of Sorghum Cane into the rollers, pulled through by the action of the device. The juice would be squeezed out of the cane stalks where it ran down a chute and into a bucket. As the bucket got full, a worker would exchange it with an empty bucket, take the full one and dump it into one end of the large cooking vat. The vat was about 5 feet wide by 15 feet long and had some kind of division inside it to accommodate various stages of the cooking process.

The juice entered the vat on one end and the finished product was pulled off at the other. People along both sides had long poles with boards nailed to the end, used as stirring paddles to keep the Sorghum from sticking and burning. The fire was built beneath the raised vat and was fed by the fire tender to try to maintain a certain height of flame and heat, so as not to get too low, or too high, for the entire length of the vat.

It was a skill to make good Sorghum. Our community was noted to make the “best in the country”. I don’t know how the trade was handed down from other generations, but I do know the art of Sorghum making ended with my Grandfather when we moved from Arkansas to Kansas and my Dad began working as a welder. We still miss those days of fresh Sorghum Molasses with homemade butter and hot biscuits. The sights, the sounds and the smells can never be captured on film. Only in our minds do the memories of those events still come alive in a never ending mode of instant replay at our beckoning.

Friday, October 07, 2005

The Wallowa Mounains are spectactular! From the huge granite rock we camped on, sheared smooth by gigantic glaciers that moved across this area's valley floor eons ago, to the fantastic 9600 foot Eagle Cap Mountain reflected in the early morning calmness of Mirror Lake, paints an image in the hearts of every adventurer to this beautiful place.
Mirror Lake is one of my favorite camping spots in the Wallowas. To find this place, take Interstate 84 and exit at La Grande, Oregon. Turn North and follow the highway towards Joseph and the Wallowa Lake. Exit at a small town called Lostine and head east towards the valley between the mountain peaks. Park at Two Pan Trail Head and hike 8.5 Miles, taking the left fork in the trail towards Mirror Lake.
There are a couple of miles of uphill switchbacks in the beginning, then the terrain levels off and the trail heads East through a peaceful valley along a quiet stream. The trail takes you to the base of Eagle Cap and into several campsites. The trail actually continues around for several miles, past Moccasin Lake and Glacier Lake towards the North. For the very adventurous, the trail splits again just prior to Mirror Lake and winds it's way up the elevation climb to the top of Eagle Cap. Early in the morning, a quiet hiker can often view Deer, Elk and Big Horn Sheep along this trail. Best seen in August.

Sunday, October 02, 2005





PHU CAT, VIETNAM, 1969-1970

During the Vietnam era, working within our confines of military duties we each had lingo of military language that we often used. Much of it was abbreviated or shortened so that it took less time to communicate. We knew what we were saying whether anyone else did or not. The following is a poetic message that is probably best understood by those “who were there”; otherwise it may leave the unsuspecting reader with questions. I could make an attempt to explain some of the jargon but I wouldn’t know where to end it. But I will say that the “Goon” is the EC-47 twin engine airplane built in the late 40’s and still running in 1970.


THE TALKING PHU CAT, GOONEY BIRD, 94TH BLUES

Long time ago, it was last July
Got on a silver plane to fly
Packed my clothes and kissed my Mom
‘Cause I had to hurry off to Vietnam
….’Goin to Phu Cat….. Paradise Acres
…..To fly a Gooney Bird.

Got to the Cat, I was feelin’ low,
Looked all around for a place to go.
Went up to a man and called him Sir,
He said, “Boy, go get a burr!”
…..Haircut that is …..called me a hippie
…..Long sideburns …..sure felt good.

I processed in and pretty soon
I went to fly on the magnificent Goon.
They cranked it up and it started to sputter
That radio talk sure made me stutter;
…..Rrrrrrrroger that …..Sssssstand by one
…..Ooooover and out.

We just took off and begin to fly
Said, “Sir, this is X off to key the K-Y”
He said “Alright, X, go right ahead”.
I said, “As long as I’m up I’ll go to the head”
…..He said “nice Timing” …..I said, “nice takeoff”
…..Roger that.

About feet wet, we had just begun
When I said, “Lock on number one”
He said, “What’s the strength?” I said, “I don’t know,
Got a little spike just beginning to show!”
…..He said “Wait” …..Got to get a Dop set” …..”Pilot, find me a bridge …..
“Or a ridge” …..or a fork in the river …..or a fork in
the road …..Oh, any fork -- I don’t care!”

Got in the area…right on time;
I just locked on to number nine.
Nav said “Slow down X you got too many;
Time to dig into your Box Bennie.”
…..So I did …Hey! Same thing I had yesterday
…..and the day before …..and the day before that
……Man! I got to eat this same stuff again??”
Whatever happened to the IF10?
Had ham and cheese between two dried buns
…And my boiled egg begin to run……
Allllllllll over my water soluble logs
…..One was runnin’ into two …..two into six
…..and six into my maintenance debrief!

I looked at the mess upon my pad
Turned to X and said ‘Hey, Dad!” “Give me a hand”
And he said “No!” “Sorry ‘bout that, I’m the S-R-O
…..Ok, Begger …..18 years and already a Staff

Looked out my window, I saw smoke.
Then the wing fell off and I begin to choke
I said, “Hey, AC, we gotta go back!”
He said, “Our seven hours ain’t up…..Sorry ‘bout that”.
…..As long as you’re up, give me a wing check.
…..I said, “Give me a parachute!”

We came back on a C-G-A
It had been one heck of a day.
The gear was down, we were ready to land,
AC took it to go around again.
Said, “Why stop at 7? …..Why not 7.2?
…..Log us down at 30, Nav!”

Finally got back and stowed my gear
Went to the porch to have some cheer.
Hit the sack and just started to snore
Rocket came in and I kissed the floor.
Somebody yelled “Out going” …..Big Bertha
…..Who’s that idiot under the bed?

People around me started to laugh.
I screamed, “I can’t stand any more of this GAF”
“I gotta leave this doggone place!”
A man smiled at me and said “23 days”
“In the war” …..and I started to cry
…..”350 what??”

Thinkin’ back to the Goons and rockets I’ve heard
And here I am on the Freedom Bird
Goin’ home…..getting’ out of the war.
Ain’t gonna wear the Uni no more.
…..I’m a civilian …..Goodbye, Vietnam!
………..Now what????

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