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Date:         Wed, 12 Apr 1995 21:52:00 -0700 (PDT)
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@vanagon.com>
From:         Steve Johnson <sjohnson@pcocd2.intel.com>
Subject:      Red Rock Trip Report Part 4 - Happy Trails

Red Rock Trip Report Part 4 - Happy Trails

Well, there we were. A faded blue '73 Safari, a '72 freshly painted orange camper, an creamy/eggnog colored Vanagon GL and a '66 split, barreling along a gravel roadway. With the brush right up to the edge of the road, the immediate view was difficult to see, but we could look out over it and see the tremendous expanse of the desert with it's patches of yellow and purple and sometimes red wildflowers. As we wound and twisted up the road the desert gave way to hills with more rocky faces and gleaming slate the appeared almost wet in the early afternoon sun.

As it was getting warm in the van, Bob Kenyon opened the sliding door which let in some welcome fresh air. It also let in some dust, but it wasn't bad and I enjoyed the open view provided by the wide open doorway from an angle that I don't typically see unless my wife is driving our camper.

The gravel road was pretty tame compared to the previous road we ventured on. This was noticed by all of the passengers in our van and was brought up frequently.

As we rambled and wound our way further in from the highway we noticed that we were climbing gradually. Along the way we came face to face with Dave Phillip's van. As we approached Dave's van he made a maneuver to avoid an imminent collision so that when we were side by side, his van was tipped in an approximate 45 degree which defied all the known laws of physics. I was amazed and couldn't figure out how this strange feat was accomplished. But the other members of our party appeared not to be surprised by this display of dynamics and so I had to maintain my passive composure and pretended that nothing was out of the ordinary.

As I stated before, we were side by side in the opposite direction and the Schwarzemiester was conversing with Dave presumably about going to the tunnel and how the road was going there. As it turned out Dave had indeed been there and said that the road was fairly easily traversed excepting one spot which he described as having a Vee'd dip that apparently had caused some possible damage to his exhaust system. He also was persuaded in following us to the tunnel from which he had just came.

The road continued to climb the hills and as it did, the right side of it dropped off steeply into a gorge that yawned its gaping depth ever wider as we moved along the trail. I knew any minute, the Schwarzemiester could make one wrong move and we could be instantly annihilated.

As the road went steadily higher we came upon the wide open expanse of another valley. At this point there was a large knoll or out- cropping on the hill that went abruptly up to a peak with a trail going straight to it's top. The Schwarzemiester, in a fit of delirium, decided to head straight for the top of this peak. So he jammed it into first and went head-long up the trail to the top. There was a beautiful 360 degree panorama that we could see for a brief time. Then the Schwarzemiester decided that we had to turn around. With barely inches to spare, the Schwarzemiester turned the van around and before I new it, we were headed back down the trail that got us up there in the first place.

Meanwhile, the other vans had decided that we weren't worth worrying about (or that we were goners) and headed on down the trail ahead of us excepting Martha's van. So the two remaining vans headed on down the road following the others as the main road veered to the left and followed the west side of the hill that we were traveling on. With the steep side of the hill to our left, the huge expanse of dry desert valley opened wide to our right. There was more green desert vegetation as well as various carpets of flowers that were strewn in random patches. There was also some kind of recent mining operation going on at one of the nearer hill sides. There was some speculation as to what was being mined, but no one really knew for sure.

As we moved along the road we came upon a couple of spots that we were forewarned about as being the "dangerous" dip and entered them with care and escaped without ill effects. As we approached the spot where the infamous tunnel was we noticed to our left up the hill, that there was a dark blue bug that looked about like it was in the later 60's or early 70's range. It had no engine lid so a good I.D. could not be made. Plus, there was plenty of signs warning us that to trespass would surely mean our demise. So we moved on without a closer look.

We rolled into what was evidently the parking lot and got out for a stretch and walked up the grade to where there were a couple of buildings (and I use that term loosely) that were the location and domicile of the proprietor of the tunnel. Or at least that was what I thought, until I saw the trailer parked just down the hill from these structures.

As the Schwarzemiester was our leader and the most familiar with the "in's and out's" of the area, we followed him into one of the small buildings which had a sign indicating it was an antique museum. As we were a large group, we had to file in a few at a time. As I walked in I could her the voice of an elderly woman speaking about some of the artifacts. To be honest, I felt like I'd walked into someones old garage. There were lots of old tools for mining and such. There were old newspapers lining the interior of the wall and roof. The elderly woman sat on a stool. She looked kind of wary but piped up a little about some of the things that were laying about and answered any questions that were posed. There was a sign-in sheet that was signed by everyone and a jar for donations. I put in a few dollars and didn't regret one penny. It felt like a very special place to be. Although, in the back of my mind, I could picture the Schwarzemiester getting a share of the womans haul.

We filed back out and started heading up the road that led to the tunnel. We walked up the hill and around the bend and there in the side of the hill was a small dark opening that was no higher than 6 feet and about 5 feet wide at it's mid point.

We sorted out the flashlights that were to be had and marched into the tunnel in single file. I had never been in a tunnel of this kind and so it felt like a bit of an adventure to go into it and actually a little dangerous. But as I walked down the tunnel with it's rail track running in the middle, I felt secure by the fact that it was solid rock all around the perimeter of the tunnel wall and ceiling. The group proceeded at a steady walk and finally after a way in, the sunlight was faint enough that I had to turn on my flash light which was kind of dim. But after walking a while it seemed to brighten up the walls as we got further and further from the entrance.

There was not too much to see except a few places where some tunneling to dead ends where done. We had to be mindful of our heads occasionally and then we also had to watch our steps as the wooden cross-ties for the track were unevenly spaced. We eventually came to a tee in the tunnel. One direction went to the right where an opening to the outside clearly could be seen. The other direction to the left, was dark and had an unknown ending. Most of us filed toward the light. It was about 2/10ths of a mile to the opening where we finally smelled fresh air again. It was bright stepping out and cold as the breeze was strong on that face of the hill. We could see a narrow gorge below the opening of the tunnel and the dry lake with a small amount of standing water from the recent rains could be seen off in the distance. We stood around for a bit and some pictures were snapped and then some decided to take the trail that went around the side of the hill back to the original tunnel entrance. I chose to go back through the tunnel and trudged along with everyone else breathing the dust that rose as we walked.

When we reached the original entrance, everyone took their turn at the elegant restroom facility which was a small wooden affair a little smaller than a rural bus stop with two portals at which to aim and shoot. With that accomplished, the party trooped back down to the antique display where we assembled for a group portrait.

After a few minutes of discussion with the proprietor about the the struggles of living there and some of the history, we headed back to our respective vans and headed on down the trail.

The gravel road back was much the same as it was coming in only facing the other way. It was relaxing to sit in the van and talk with the others about this and that. I got a short lesson in how to stall a plane which was brought up when I inquired Bob Kenyon about his flying. As we tootled along the upper bunk kept sliding out and was threatening to give Bob and I a good bonk on the head. I'm sure the Schwarzemiester could've easily secured it better but left it this way on purpose.

We finally got back to the trail head and decided to go to Randsburg for lunch. We had a fine time eating various sandwiches and burgers with fries (chips) from the grill. Some of us even had alcoholic beverages. Gasp! Everyone was in a mellow mood and chatted and munched.

After the late lunch everyone strolled over to the creamery/drug- store and milled around looking at various trinkets and whatever. My main interest was a bottle of Ibuprofin. So I grabbed the box off the shelf, handed the woman behind the counter a 5 and slipped out the door.

As we were leaving, Martha came up to our van and I found out that she was actually leaving the party and heading back home to the bay area. I thought this was rather odd, but the more I thought about it, I was convinced that she missed her shower. She said that Bob had to do some things, but I knew better. I wondered if she might be one of those strange "amphibian" people that roam the earth, passing themselves off as normal humans. I couldn't be sure so I let it go and acted as if this was not out of the ordinary.

The party of 4 vans migrated back to the park grounds and we all got busy with the camp fire and commenced sitting around talking about VW stories and whatever. Except I got to look around for my safety cap that goes on my 20 lb. propane tank for transporting. I thought it was blown away with the wind and searched the entire area and did a little clean up while I was at it. There were lot's of paper plates and stuff that ended up in the little ravine that ran next to our campsite. I even tried employing Amy and Larry's kids (Michael and Julia) into helping me search, but they did the math and quickly found something else to do. And to my chagrin, I found the stopper in a bag with the extra hose for my setup back safely stored in my camper.

As the evening came on, the air grew chillier and the coats came on. Everyone got closer and closer to the fire. That is, until Bradley pulled out an IBM (3100?) board that he offered up as a sacrifice if the crowd would only give the word. There was a brief moment of silence in which people, I'm sure, thought about the fumes and any other consequences. In a flash, the thought processes were shattered by a quick utterance from Mr. Stafford, which was, "Burn the f-cker!".

And that, apparently, was good enough for Bradley as he wasted little time in balancing it into the blaze. There was a cloud of dark smoke and blue flame as the crowd stepped back, "oooing" and "ahing" the colorful toxic display. As we watched, the distinct essence of pc board invaded my sinuses.

This final act or ritual convinced me more than ever, that this troop of people was no ordinary lot. I couldn't be certain, but it seemed to have a special meaning that no other human, nay, no other creature would do. And I had to somehow find out why. But I knew I couldn't find the answer then. So, for the present, I'd have to bide my time and wait until another opportunity would present itself to continue the search for the real meaning of this unique crowd that I, somehow, became party to.

The evening continued on but my eyes were heavy and I knew that with the long road ahead of me the next day, that I'd better retire. So I said good night and grabbed my lantern and strolled down to the van. I had earlier shut the curtains all the way around and had the top up with the bedding in place. So, I climbed in and hopped up to the upper bunk, kicked off my shoes and socks and scrooched into my bag.

Many unanswered questions went through my mind that night. What was the Schwarzemiester's intention in taking us down that mysterious other trail? And what was the meaning of the tunnel? Why did Martha leave so soon? What was Larry and Amy's hidden agenda? And most of all, what were all these VW van owners about with their strange rituals of burning P.C. mother boards and hoarding of prunes and flannel? I mulled these questions over and over in my mind, but could not find a suitable answer. But I made a pact with myself that I would someday find out the true answer and until that day, I'd keep searching and traveling and meeting with these strange people.

The truth is still out there......

The End

.... for now ....

Steven

sjohnson@pcocd2.intel.com


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