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A trip to Palatka

Started by Tom, February 12, 2004, 06:39:14 PM

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Tom

I left for Palatka, Florida, Wed. afternoon to visit Dead-header and his son Eddie.   They have been waiting out the cold 50 degree water in the Oklawaha River so that they can go diving again.  While waiting they took on a job of cutting up some logs for the widow of a WoodMizer owner who lived in East Palatka and who died recently.

This fellows friends came by to visit and Harold joined them with some lively conversation about the deceased, the war, the wood, politics, Arkansas, the Adirondacks and hunting.

It was easy to get the mill stopped and we all did some "stumping".


Here is Bob, a cattleman who lives down the road,
and Harold deep in a discussion of  some
pretty involved subject.

Phil makes game calls.  Here he is showing a turkey
call to Harold, Eddie, Bob and Wayne.  Bob is holding
a Deer call.


Jeff

Who sewed the pant legs on Harolds shorts?
Just call me the midget doctor.
Forestry Forum Founder and Chief Cook and Bottle Washer.

Commercial circle sawmill sawyer in a past life for 25yrs.
Ezekiel 22:30

Tom

I think they are a new pair of dungarees, Jeff.  He didn't have a knife on him that was sharp enough to cut them :D

Fla._Deadheader

  No, but, I wore a pair home ;D ;D

  T'was a fine visit we had. Tom is great company. Y'all need to get him to 'splain where we live ;) :D :D :D
All truth passes through three stages:
   First, it is ridiculed;
   Second, it is violently opposed; and
   Third, it is accepted as self-evident.

-- Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860)

Tom

Oh yeah!  I'll have to tell y'all 'bout that.

Jeff

Oh! I hope its kinda like reading about Robinson Crusoe or maybe the Swiss Family Robinson. I just loved those books. Ed don't ride an ostrich does he? :)
Just call me the midget doctor.
Forestry Forum Founder and Chief Cook and Bottle Washer.

Commercial circle sawmill sawyer in a past life for 25yrs.
Ezekiel 22:30

Fla._Deadheader

All truth passes through three stages:
   First, it is ridiculed;
   Second, it is violently opposed; and
   Third, it is accepted as self-evident.

-- Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860)

Tom

Wednesday afternoon, I finally got free from the telephone and having impromptu visits from customers who were intent on forcing dollars into my pocket in exchange for some of this "outlaw" non-graded wood out in the barn.   I grabbed my thermos full of coffee and hurriedly climbed into my truck to go to Palatka where Deadheader was supposed to be sawing up some cedar and sinker cypress.  I had called from my house phone to his phone but couldn't make contact and then called his home to tell his daughter to let him know that I was coming if she had the opportunity.  I live in a phone-dead spot so called from the expressway again to try to reach him.  He is in a phone-dead spot too.
 
I traveled down US-17, a road that used to be used by tourist to see the sights.  Development now has most every mile covered in new tract homes and the traffic is bumper to bumper for most of the distance with young drivers zipping in and out of self-made traffic situations, riding in my blind spot and hugging the back of my truck.  I almost drove over two.  
 
I passed through Palatka on the west bank of the St. Johns and East Palatka on the east side of the St. Johns and down SR100 to the little road that was supposed to lead to the sawing site.   I drove right past them and the road began to get narrower and narrower.  It still had double yellow stripes so I continued.  Finally I reached a farmer driving a front-end-loader who's son asked me if I was lost.    
 
"Yep, I'm looking for a fellow with a portable mill cutting cypress in a backyard on this road".
 
"That's Dennis' place", said the boy and he thoughtfully began a lengthy dissertation on the size of the trees I would see and bends in the road and finally ended with, "If you see a little lake that looks like a coke bottle, you went too far".
 
His daddy showed up about this time and was told I was looking for Dennis' place.  A group of six or seven family members had accumulated under the drivers window of my truck by now.  Four four-wheelers idled in the background.  Someone not accustomed to areas like this would have, and maybe should have, been afraid.  I felt right at home.  
 
"Just go back to where you see an aluminum stock trailer on the right and he'll be on the left down that driveway.  They're cutting next door to Wayne's place".
 
Well I didn't know who Wayne was but I figured I could find the stock trailer, and did.  I thanked them and headed back up the road.
 
I pulled into the lot just as Harold and Eddy were leaving.  They had suffered a mechanical malfunction and spent the afternoon finding parts and repairing it.  I was just in time.   We parked my truck and took their's to the camp.
 
Driving into a camp-park with nice trailers and campers everywhere I thought "Man, they are in a nice place".  
 
They showed me where the Shin-dig may take place and we went to the little restaurant to get some supper.  I got catfish, Harold got fried clams and Eddy , a hamburger.  Then we got back in the truck and drove to boat dock where we got in Harold's boat.  It was now quite dark and Eddy was shining his flashlight.  First they found a channel marker and then began to look for the crab trap floats as we continued across and up river (south) to a boat dock on the other shore perhaps a mile or mile and a half away.
 
Up on the dock we climbed and down the dock, entering the river swamp in an area where there was no civilization.  "The ferry is down there on the left a ways", said Harold.
 
I stepped over a cabbage tree log that was laying over the dock and read the sign at my feet that said something like "You @#$. If you aren't expected, get your %^ %^&  off this propery.", or something to that effect.  A few more steps and there were more signs warning of the desire that no visitors trespass.  There was a wire running the full length of the dock about head high.  "What is this for", I asked.
 
"That's the dog run", said Harold and we progressed on into the swamp on this raised walkway.  It got darker and darker.  Finally we came to a single-wide trailer that had been painted with camouflage designs in various greens.  There was a light on and we stepped up on the porch.  
 
"This is not too bad, I thought".
 
"Keep to the right and watch your step", said Harold.
 
The flashlight showed me the way as I walked on boards stretched across bare joists where the porch was unfinished.  Coming to a set of steps, I went down to the swamp floor again where there was a 2x6 leading off into the dark.  
 
"Stay on the boards", said Harold.
 
I did and found that when I reached the end of this one board, there were no more.  I stepped onto a newly cleared path that barely held my weight.  Harold got in front of me to warn of the roots and stumps sticking up. "Harry's  doing some clearing", said Harold."  Eddy doesn't say too much unless prompted.
 
We wound our way through a hardwood swamp similar to the one I live in and arrived at a fifth wheel camper.  The step to get inside was for a young man and I had to get on my hands and knees to get inside.
 
I sat in a plastic chair, Harold in another and Eddy left to find a special spot he had located on a dock down-river where his cell phone could get out. He wanted to call his wife.
 
Over coffee, we talked till after midnight.  I got the general story of the job he was on and the description of their life in the camper.  
 
It is unfinished inside and they keep plastic bags handy to stuff into the voids of the walls to keep the mosquitoes out.  Harry built the area we were in to store his motorcycle but Harold has installed carpeting.  
 
Eddy returned after a couple of hours on the phone and walking to the "talking place" to tell us that he had been gathering phone messages which included three from his sister telling them that I was on the way.  
 
We slept on the bed over the front hitch and Eddy slept on the floor in a sleeping bag.  I slept well.
 
Came morning, Harold fixed some lunch sandwiches and we went back to the boat through the swamp that I couldn't see the night before.  I was right though, there was nothing but swamp there.  
 
Back in the boat, across the river to the truck and a trip to Welaka found a little restaurant where we had breakfast.  I needed those grits and they were good.  
 
On the road again, we arrived at the mill were I watched Harold and Eddy saw cypress.  The mill works very good and is nothing anyone should be ashamed of.  It's really quite special in that it can cut such a wide board between roller guides and the tower is very tall.  This mill has no trouble with large logs.
 
Visitors began to show.  Phil generally helps with the sawing but had been to the doctor and was told he couldn't lift anything that day. The others came to talk and we did.  Much of the day was spent listening to the tales each had to tell of the deceased owner of the property, Dennis.  Quite a character, he must have been.
 
It was a fun trip; a good visit and I met some more good people.  Harold is lucky to have such a good boy as Eddy to help with their projects and they are beginning to fit in with the society around there.  That's not an easy feat for someone who talks ninety miles a minute with a New Jersey accent.
 
I'll look forward to visiting again one day.

D._Frederick

Tom,

A very nice write-up, just like if you were along on the trip.
How are the  mosquitoes? When I worked at the CAPE, a shirt was no challenge to them.

Tom

This time of the year there aren't many in the swamps.   They are all in Harold's camper.   :D  The plastic bags stuffed in the holes in the walls are doing a good job keeping them in.   :D :D


It's a pleasant time to look at all the flora alongside of the rivers and walk in the swamps down here.  The cool weather has most of the insects at bay. We get to where we enjoy the winter for that very reason.  Not because of the cold, to be sure.

Your experience at the Cape is typical of the salt marshes.  There are usually mosquitoes along the ocean areas and, you're right, a shirt is no challenge.  As the sun sinks, I have some in the back yard here that will try to carry me into the swamp where the big ones are.  Given a little warm weather, Harold's swamps will be alive with them too. :)

mitch

Tom,
You are a man of many talents....you would make a great writer!
Mitch

Tom

Blush!

Thanks Mitch.  It's fun. :)

dail_h

   Hey Tom,
   Ain't everybody can follow country directions is it?
World Champion Wildcat Sorter,1999 2002 2004 2005
      Volume Discount At ER
Singing The Song Of Circle Again

Tom

Your right.  You have to be looking at stuff a little different than most folks to follow directions in the sticks.  Folks will send you down the road looking for trees with crooked branches, holes in the road, things nailed to power poles, colors of houses, fences, yard art and all manner of things when there are road intersections available and every house has a mailbox with a number.  Now, you might not expect everyone to know everyone else's address but you sure would expect the owner of the house to tell his address before he started explaining how many horse pastures and cow pastures you'll pass getting to his place. :D

I've gotten pretty good at it and am probably guilty of giving those kinds of directions myself. :D :D

woodbeard

I love them directions! Especially when they refer to things that have burned down twenty years ago. :D

VA-Sawyer

Or like..."Turn left at the corner where Billy crashed his truck last summer , you know the one I mean, it's just this side of where Old Man Crawford used to live."  ;D

Oh, Yea,  Great write up, Tom.

VA-Sawyer

Fla._Deadheader

  I should probably mention that Tom should feel honored that we used the light so he could find his way through the swamp. We had to hunt pretty deep into the back of my pickup, to find the light.  
  We usually just ease out into the darkness and try not to embarrass ourselves too bad, by tripping over the roots and running into the maze of spider-webs that dot the trail ;) ;D :D :D :D  Gotta have some fun somehow ;D :D :D
All truth passes through three stages:
   First, it is ridiculed;
   Second, it is violently opposed; and
   Third, it is accepted as self-evident.

-- Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860)

Tom

Thank God for the light, Harold. I'd have never walked that tight-rope without it. :D

Fla._Deadheader

  That's why Harry left the trees there, Tom. So we could bounce off them and find our way to the camper.
  Next time ya come down, we might take the Ferry across. They push this big barge with a 20HP Mercury and 14' aluminum boat ;) :D :D
All truth passes through three stages:
   First, it is ridiculed;
   Second, it is violently opposed; and
   Third, it is accepted as self-evident.

-- Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860)

raycon

I agree Tom you would (are)  make an excellent writer/storyteller.Looking forward to more.
Lot of stuff..

swampy

Had a great time with Tom in camp.I didn't say much because Tom had some good stories to tell(and someone had to keep track of the gators, snakes and swat skeeters). ;D 8)   Eddie
It only takes a little sawdust to become addicted. It's even better when you build your own. (HOMEMIZER a.k.a. HOMEY)

Tom

That's post #2 Eddie.  8) :D

Keep on talkin'   :D :D :D

I had a good time and really appreciate the special attention you gave to me.

Guys, this boy looked out for me at every turn making sure I didn't stumble and getting things for me to stand on and step on. It would have been easy for him to run ahead and do his thing.  Even slept on floor.  Yep, I'm impressed and certainly appreciate it.  He's not a foul-mouthed, smart alec either and never once have I seen him treat his elders with disrespect or even as peers.  

A young man like this is pleasant to be around. Somebody did a good job. :)

Norm

Yep they sure did Tom. You can tell when Harold speaks about his son the respect he shows. And the same way with how Eddie is always there helping. Makes me proud to know em both. :)

Great story by the way, you can always tell a good story teller by how easy it is to see in your own mind what your reading. Thanks Tom.

Jeff

QuoteGreat story by the way, you can always tell a good story teller by how easy it is to see in your own mind what your reading. Thanks Tom.

I got my DanG feet wet. :)
Just call me the midget doctor.
Forestry Forum Founder and Chief Cook and Bottle Washer.

Commercial circle sawmill sawyer in a past life for 25yrs.
Ezekiel 22:30

DanG

Know what ya mean, Jeff. He had me slappin' skeeters. :D
Tom, I know ya had a great time visitin' with those guys, and I'm sure they enjoyed it just as much. I think I'll pack a jungle hammock when I drop in on them. ;D  Now I don't feel so bad about bunking those guys in my old camper when they visited here, last year. :D
I gotta get used to sumpthin.  I've known Ed for a couple of years now, and all of a sudden, he's Eddie. I had to cope with that for 2 days, then he turns up as Swampy, and he actually says sumpthin. :D  Ed is Swampy. Swampy is Eddie. Aw shucks! He's Ed to me. :) ;)  

Excuse us while we talk about you, Ed. I think you must have learned one of life's primary lessons early. You use your ears and eyes a lot more than your mouth, and you don't seem to miss too many tricks. You've apparently been doing this for some time now, so I hope you'll open up and share a bit of it from time to time. :) :)
"I don't feel like an old man.  I feel like a young man who has something wrong with him."  Dick Cavett
"Beat not thy sword into a plowshare, rather beat the sword of thine enemy into a plowshare."

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