The Long Goodbye – Squatch Spotted Heading For The Woods !

photo squatch

squatch

Well I guess this is it. I got the golden ticket, I found the brass ring, I am leaving for home. ( In the vain of Robin Williams, GOODBYE RENO, NEVADA! ) It will be a long drive. Traveling in a twenty foot motor home, towing the Nissan Pathfinder. I’ll go N. on 395, to Alturas Ca. and veer west to Interstate 97, and follow that North to Interstate 90. In America odd numbered highways are North – South, and even numbered ones are East – West. So at I-90 I’ll go east down through the Columbia River Gorge, via Vantage, and continue on to George Washington. There I can get on a cutoff that will take me to Wenatchee, missing Blewett pass, which is a miserable mountain pass, full of deer, and twisty corners.

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At Wenatchee it’s 130 miles North to Oroville WA. The rigs ( American slang for vehicles ) will be filled with all our junk including, Libby / libetha my wife, Memphis, a tiger stripped tabby, still sporting full equipment, and Warf and Sammy, the dogs. Squealer, the 1995 Geo Metro has to be left behind at this time. It never got to tell you what happened after it got us down to Redding. I’m sure you’ll love to hear about that! Butch, this is something you could relate too…I’ll ask Squealer to post that story for you, while I’m on the road, as there is Internet where it’s parked and there won’t be any, where we’re going.

Marty Casey – Creep

Libby hasn’t been home since October 12th, and she’s really looking forward to getting to her garden. We have ten thousand things to deal with when we get home. I was last there in December, and got back here on the 22nd. News is, the snows were light last winter and it will be another year of drought. That means water will be scarce, but also, I probably only have minor wind damage at home. That’s what happens when you live in travel trailers, and tents.

The dogs got a lot fatter in Reno, as they spent a lot of time eating and sleeping. They only got to get up in the hills a few times while we were here. They’ll like getting home. They have our 20 acres to play on, plus about 50 square miles of hills and ponds, and stuff to sniff out. We don’t have to worry about leash laws or animal control. There are bear, cougar, lynx, deer, rabbits, coyotes, and nearly all open range. That means in early May, or maybe even late April, the local ranchers will run their steer up around our place.

The cows! They are the critters that make it so you have to have fences around everything. They stomp your garden up, eating all of the good stuff, and crap on everything else. We allow the dogs to keep the cows away from the house, and the dogs love that. They seem to recognize a boundary that seems acceptable for all. You, or at least I, can’t even think of fencing off twenty acres, so the dogs do their part, and I only need to worry about keeping whatever out of the gardens.

Libby wants more ground tore up for all kinds of stuff. The herb spot, and veggies, goards, for all manner of projects, and more fruit trees if we can get some. We also are moving over to the hardest place to get to, when we get there. There is a great place to build on the knoll, across the yard, with a 360* view. It will get windy there, and it’s just as exposed to view as where we are ( I would like to be tucked away in the draw ) but I know I would regret, not building for the view. We will set up a temporary site, with the trailer and motor home up on the knoll, and a large covered room affair, between them. Eventually we will build partly underground.

I’ll see just how often I can get near a web signal, and do some more blogging. Libby will be happier with my non-blog-divided attention, and I am going to fret about it, full time. I already let most of you know I was leaving, so I won’t get all teary this time. I am going to miss this great community. Thanks for all of the kindness, and support you’ve given me over the last 3 months.

Jordis Unga – The Man Who Sold The World

In my perfect world, I have a power system, and Internet at home, and I won’t have to leave it for a long long time. I hope to get back in touch with y’all soon, Just know, I do have feelings for all of my special blogging community. You have been great friends…..

While I am driving North, Squealer will tell you what happened the last time we traveled together. Please pardon Squealer’s way with words. It does tend to run on a bit, and recounts travels at 60 miles per hour, generally non-stop. Talk to y’all soon : -(   Feel FREE TO DROP YOUR LINK AND ANOTHER LINK TO SOME GREAT BLOGS! XXOO

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Squatch Vs. The Blog

Hey campers, today I am going to finish packing all of my worldly possessions, and try to be ready for the sound of the starting gun. When the pistol shot sounds I will be out of here, even more quickly than the homesteader hopefuls in the 1800’s.

photo-homestead act races - Google Search

homestead act races – Google Search

Signed into law in May 1862, the Homestead Act opened up settlement in the western United States, allowing any American, including freed slaves, to put in a claim for up to 160 free acres of federal land. By the end of the Civil War, 15,000 homestead claims had been established, and more followed in the postwar years.
Homestead Act – Facts & Summary – HISTORY.com
www.history.com/topics/homestead-act

Presently I am waiting for a tow-bar to arrive, so I can hook the car to the tail end of the motor home. After the lights are set up, and I get a permit to drive a non-registered vehicle from Reno Nv. to N.E. Washington, that pistol shot will sound.

Home is where the heart is, for sure. I have put up with this city and am willing to never do this again! The paranoia and ill feelings from all of the local residents, truly disgust me. Everyone seems to believe everyone else is some kind of: Terrorist, Pedophile, Murderer, Thief, Gang Member, Rapist, or just plain crazy and not to be trusted or dealt with on a personal level.

So what kind of deviant am I? Well I don’t drive a brand new shiny car. I have long hair, down to my belt. I only shave weekly or monthly, depending on how social I have to be. I dress in rags, as they are going to get torn up, with all of the things I do.

I have allowed others to see me as some kind of scary person, to ward off contact. I speak my mind, and don’t hold back, when I think something needs to be said. If I state something in an intense manner, the police are usually called.

I don’t have or believe in locks, and locking everything up. It’s a hassle to have to carry keys to open places that really don’t need to be locked. Everyone else has a different opinion. They will point out how many places are broken into, and how much thievery is present.

It seems most of the people in this city are truly frightened. They call the police when they see a stranger in their neighborhood, and are never willing to confront someone themselves. Too many of these city dwellers don’t know their own neighbors, and barely pay attention to what is going on around them.

News stories help promote the hype, no one is to be trusted. If I’m not some previously mentioned deviant, then I must be some type of scam artist. The paranoia is rampant, and there is no way to counter that trend.

What Is Deviance?
Deviance is the recognized violation of cultural norms. Norms guide
virtually all human activities, so the concept of deviance is quite broad.
One category of deviance is crime, the violation of a society’s formally enacted criminal law. Even criminal deviance spans a wide range, from minor traffic violations to prostitution, sexual assault, and murder.

Most familiar examples of nonconformity are negative instances
of rule breaking, such as stealing from a campus bookstore, assaulting a fellow student, or driving while intoxicated. But we also define especially righteous people—students who speak up too much in class or people who are overly enthusiastic about the latest electronic gadgets—as deviant, even if we give them a measure of respect.

I was investigated by the local Sheriff, as I was parked near a middle school, waiting for my grandson to arrive. Someone saw my rig sitting across from the school, with me sitting in it. Instead of stopping and asking me why I was in their neighborhood, they called the police. That is the new ” Norm “, and my complaints as to how people are reacting these days change nothing.

I confront those I want information from. I don’t sic the law on them, just because I don’t know them, or have never seen them before. We have a whole nation full of frightened sheep, and that problem or attitude will continue to prevail.

So with all of that rant laid bare before you, I hate cities. Where I live you can barely see other homes, and certainly aren’t able to just look out of my windows into my neighbors windows. My neighbors leave me alone, and I do the same for them, but we do interact with each other, and it doesn’t involve the law!

Where I live, there are only two patrol cars used by the Sheriff’s office out at any given time. That’s two cars patrolling an area of 5,267.98 square miles. The Sheriff’s office asks that everyone try to resolve issues in a civil manner, and not include them in that process, if at all possible.

What does any of this have to do with the title of this post? My blogging is going to suffer greatly when that pistol shot sounds. I will go driving and screaming my happiness, and I truly can’t wait to get home. I am sorry my friends here at the blog, I will miss you. I just won’t miss the city.