1975 – 1981 – Early Childhood
My life started off simple enough when I became more than a thought deep in the John Muir wilderness on the banks of Florence Lake. My parents were at the time running the general store and operating the ferry boat to take hikers across the lake. I’ve visited many times since during my childhood and can’t think of a more pristine and natural of a place to have been conceived.
While a remember little of it my early childhood was far from normal. I spent the first year of my life in a one room shack constructed on a hill overlooking a man made lake on my grandfather’s ranch in the San Joaquin Valley mere moments from the Sequoia National Forest. My bed was a handmade cradle formed from a wooden barrel that had been cut in half and lined with sheepskin. The only appliance was a classic cast iron wood cooking stove that served to provide both heat and cooking area.
My first memories begin in the next part of my journey when after tiring of California my parents moved up to Philomath Oregon. Were I grew up as a child of the earth, roaming through the garden and getting into all manner of trouble. I loved the outdoors and spent the summers playing in the water. During this time I was joined by the arrival of my sister.
After fixing up the house in Philomath my parents decided to return to the nomadic lifestyle once again and purchased a 21’ Air Stream trailer that became our home for the next couple of years as we traveled the beaches and trailer parks of southern California in and around Santa Barbara. I can vividly remember arriving at new site every few days and running out with trash bags to collect as much garbage and old cigarette butts as possible, which I would then carry down to the ranger station to redeem for a Woodsy Owl “Give a Hoot Don’t Pollute” patch or other assorted items which I collected with pride. This proved to be a formative time in my life as I learned to explore the tide pools and identify the many animals that inhabited them (sea anemones, hermit crabs, sand crabs, and many other wonderful creatures).
Tiring of being on the road we returned to my grand fathers ranch and took over the duties of the caretaker who had recently passed away. My father, having always loved backpacking but not able to do it much with two small children decided to get some Llama’s to enable back country hiking with children. They were supposed to by less invasive on the natural environment than horses were, and proved also to be very stubborn. I can vividly remember sitting in a saddle fashioned from interlocking wood handles on the back of a Llama while it refused to go any further down the trail and sat down in the stream we were crossing. But this time in the wilderness was wonderful and has such vivid recollections for me that I can still smell the campfire and roasting fresh caught trout.
