COUNTRY DOCTORS

 When I lived in Orleans in northwestern California from 1971 to 1977 the nearest doctor was 40 miles away in a medical clinic in Hoopa Valley on the Hoopa Indian Reservation.     

This doctor did it all from setting broken bones, stitching up cuts and digging bullets out of people.   If major surgery was required or the birthing of a child we had to drive 85 miles to the hospital in Eureka.  I do not remember any ambulance service.  If there was a medical emergency you were at the mercy of neighbors to provide first aid and get you to Hoopa.  Some vehicle accidents, usually caused by excessive drinking were fatal and it could be days before somebody noticed a vehicle down off the road near the Klamath River below the highway.   Those that survived had to crawl up to the highway in hopes somebody would stop and take them into Hoopa.  

When we lived in Gold Beach on the south coast of Oregon, there was one doctor for the town of about 1500 people.   He worked out of the hospital doing everything from emergencies to clinical work.   To see the doctor you just went to the hospital emergency room and waited your turn.   When I developed an  infection on the side of my waist that prevented me from keeping my pants up it was time to wait my turn in the emergency room.    Once I was called into the exam room the doctor had me lay down on a table where he proceeded to cut open the infection in order to drain it.   Afterwards he told the nurse to pour peroxide on it and bandage it up.   I was sent home with a prescription for antibiotics and instructions to soak in the bathtub daily with Epson salts.  During the cutting procedure I was not given any local anesthesia.  There was a water pipe on the wall adjacent to the table that I hung onto thinking I might break it while dealing with any pain.   It all reminded me of the wild west.  

CABIN FEVER

It is now the first of March of 2023 and we all have had our fair share of winter weather and confinement to the house due to snow and icy roads, better known as cabin fever.   This got me thinking back on my younger days when I worked for the Forest Service in Orleans, California living in a small house that was half trailer comprising of the bedroom and kitchen all attached to a wooden structure that made up the bathroom and a small living room.  I guess you could call it a shack, all for $70 a month.   I was a full-time employee and I think the only single employee working on the Orleans Ranger District, except for most the seasonal employees that had 180 day appointments or about six months of work before being laid off.   The winter months of 1971 to 1974 could be lonely with no seasonal employees to hang out with after work, no woman in my life while most the other permanent employees were married and had families.   The days of winter were short, the weather could be dismal and Orleans did not offer much entertainment or social events, except sitting in one of the three taverns drinking beer with the local Indian population that were not too friendly when they had a belly full of beer.   This led me to drinking at home in the evenings and usually consuming poor quality cheap wine, the kind that had no cork in the bottle.  Having consumed a good portion of this stuff sleep was not a problem.  My reading material consisted of monthly subscriptions to Mother Earth News, The Alaska magazine and a few others.   On weekends outdoor activities such as fishing or hiking were limited due to the rain and snow at the higher elevations.  I did have a dog for company by the name of Herman, a black mutt male that I found as a puppy wandering lost along the highway one weekend.   Sometimes after heavy rain storms the highway out of town would be closed due to landslides up to a week or more.  This would prevent the delivery of the basic essentials to the local market, including beer and wine.  Sometimes panic would set in after going to the market and seeing very little available on the shelves, especially beer and that cheap wine.  

By spring time it was a relief to see some of the seasonal employees return, people to go to the tavern with or into Eureka or Arcata on the weekends.  In  January of 1975 a new receptionist was hired by the name of Christine, we were married in August of 1975 bringing an end to those lonely winters.

 

A COLD MORNING

So far this is the coldest morning this winter at 22 degrees.    The coldest I have recorded here is 9 degrees.   The coldest place I have ever been was at Fall River Mills in northern California in the winter of 1972 when it was minus 25.  A few of us went over there from Orleans to go duck hunting and stayed in an old ranch house with a gas heater.    When we went outside to hunt we could only stay outside for 20 minutes before our noses started to go numb.   By noon we called it a day and went in to Fall River Mills to get something to eat at a restaurant.  The high for the day was zero as we started the long drive back to Orleans with no ducks.     

THE TALE OF TWO LOOKOUTS

 A young husband and wife were hired one summer to be fire lookouts, while I was working on the Orleans Ranger District of the Six Rivers National Forest from 1971 to 1977.   In order to make more money they both volunteered to work in two separate lookouts.   The wife worked on the Orleans Mountain Lookout and the husband worked on the Offield Mountain Lookout on the Ukonom District of the Klamath National Forest.   Both lookouts were in sight of each other with a distance of maybe less than five miles the way the crow flies.   By road it was close to a two hour drive.   After work hours lookouts were allowed to use the radio system to talk to each other socially, since they were isolated and life could be lonely.  The rumor has it the wife on Orleans Mountain one clear night with the lights on in her lookout, called to her husband to look in her direction with his high powered binoculars and to let her know if he would be interested in driving over for a visit.   It was said that she was standing out on the open deck of the lookout wearing very little, if anything and rumor has it that he did make the drive in less than two hours for the visit and made it back for work the next day at his lookout. 

WORKING IN THE POISON OAK

In the summer of 1972 the seasonal fire crew of four people were put to work clearing the roadside brush leading into the Bluff Creek Guard Station on the Orleans Ranger District of the Six Rivers National Forest.   This work was done with hand tools and the brush was piled in a Forest Service pickup to be hauled off to a burn pile.   Most of the brush was blackberries mixed with poison oak.    Nobody on the crew was familiar with poison oak.    It was a hot day and some members of the crew had taken their shirts off as they gathered up the brush and put in the bed of the truck stomping it down.   The next day these people were human blisters in need of medical attention.  

HOOPA BLUFFS

 Of all the highways and roads I have traveled the most dangerous I can recall is California State Highway 96 between Hoopa Valley and Weitchpec, where the Trinity River meets the Klamath River.   A section of this portion is called the Hoopa Bluffs where there is a vertical rock face above the highway and a vertical drop of a few hundred feet straight down to the Trinity River.  There was a series of curves through this section with a few guard rails in some spots.   Beyond the guard rails it was straight down to the river.

When I lived and worked for Forest Service in Orleans between 1971 to 1977 it was necessary to travel this highway to seek medical attention at a clinic in Hoopa Valley or do serious shopping in the big cities of Arcata and Eureka, or just to get away to enjoy the civilized world.   On many return trips it was dark and without knowledge of this section could prove to be fatal.   If you missed a curve here there was no time for prayer as you plunged toward the river below.  

MY DOG HERMAN

 This was my dog Herman when I lived in Orleans from 1971-77.    He was part Chow and not sure what else, mostly All-American mutt.   I found him as a puppy walking along Highway 96 near Somes Bar.   Later I was told he my have come from a litter of dogs belonging to an Indian family living in that area.   Herman would go to work with me up until the Forest Service put an end to dogs going to work with employees, maybe in 1973-74.  When Christine and I married in 1975, Herman join the family, along with Christine's two dogs.   Herman went with me on many backpacking trips and always in my pickup on road trips.  He became a bad influence on Christine's dogs at times leading them in to trouble now and then.  

On one of our monthly shopping trips to Eureka we left the dogs in the back of the pickup, which had a camper shell on it with open screen windows.   The store we were shopping at was called Bazar's, a large department store with groceries, clothing, hardware and sporting equipment.   While we were in the center of the store we could hear people laughing and gasping as all three of our dogs were coming toward us in the aisle we were in.   The dogs had ripped open one of the screen windows, got scent of our trail, somehow entered through automatic sliding door into the store and followed our scent to the aisle we were in.   It was Herman leading the way as all three dogs were happy to have found us.    

MY FIRST TIMBER SALE ADMINISTRATION ASSIGNMENT

With all the rainy days ahead I'm planning on working on a few writings that have been in drafts for some time waiting to be revised or condensed.   Many are about my career with the Forest Service, including the years I worked on the Gold Beach Ranger District from 1979-88 and Cottage Grove from 1988-95.    Just revised this one, finally!  With Celia gone, I have to do self editing--Have Mercy!

                        MY FIRST TIMBER SALE ADMINISTRATION ASSIGNMENT

The Maple Timber Sale was a joint sale between the Klamath and Six Rivers National Forests.  It originally included an estimated 50 million board feet of timber on both the Orleans and Ukonom Ranger Districts, and helped finance the construction of the Gasquet-Orleans Road, better known as the G-O Road.   This road was planned to connect the Klamath River to the Smith River drainage on Highway 199, and allow access for a timber supply to mills in Crescent City.   It was designed to be a two lane paved road.   It was never completed due to a law suit by the Indians, who were against the proposed road going through their sacred lands near the summit between both drainages.  

This sale was sold to Fortuna Plywood some time in the 1960's, which had a veneer mill in Orleans, where most the logs were hauled to and scaled by the Forest Service.   Administration of the sale  alternated every year or two between the two Ranger Districts.   In 1974 the Orleans District took over the administration of the Maple Sale.    I was asked if I would want to work in sale administration as a timber sale officer (TSO) at the GS-7 grade, under the supervision of the timber sale administrator, who answered to the District Ranger.   After agreeing to this job transfer from sale preparation, where I was a GS-7 lead forestry technician to sale administration, I was given a Forest Service handbook on the duties of working in sale administration, and asked to take it home and study it.   I don't recall much studying as it was very technical and not the most interesting reading after work hours.   I was assigned a desk next to another TSO in an office, along with the sale administrator and a log accountability clerk.  I was given the field folder for the Maple Sale, which must have been 6 inches thick, containing the contract, contract modifications, inspection reports, minor change agreements and other documentation, much of it was beyond my comprehension at the time.   The sale area map was the most important document, showing the road system, protected stream courses, some 50+ harvest units, and specific requirements for each unit.    Many of the units had been logged, there may have been 10 remaining units to be completed.  In addition, the sale administrator gave me a letter designating me as TSO with one sentence, " you will assist me in obtaining contract compliance."  A copy of this letter was sent to the Purchaser of the sale and the Forest Supervisor.  

The sale administrator drove me up to the Maple Sale where the contract logger, by the name of Johnson was logging with two highlead yarders on clear cut units and some tractors working in a overstory removal unit.  I was introduced to the brother of the contract logger, who was operating one of the yarders and was suppose to be the logging supervisor.   The sale administrator pointed out some uncompleted work that needed to be done and told me to meet a tractor operator with a bull dozer the next day on a completed tractor clearcut unit, where water bars needed to be constructed, and some landings were in need of clean up.    Basically I ended up showing the operator where to construct water bars on skid trails, spur roads and to slope the landings for drainage.  

Once a week the contract logger would meet with me and we would drive around the sale area as he would ask me what was required in the various units where logging had been completed.     He had been working on this sale longer than I had been working for the Forest Service, so I suspected he was testing my knowledge of the contract.   With logging in the overstory unit almost completed he asked what he had to do with the slash.    On the sale area map for this unit, it indicated all slash had to be cut or reduced to 30 inches of the ground, which I pointed out to him.    He had a copy of the map, but would never acknowledge what he knew, which was probably more than what I had knowledge of.  

At times I had approached his brother about some contractual items needing attention, but his usual comment was, "I can't leave the yarder, so can you to take care of it?", which meant me doing his job of supervising their operation.   It was only a 10 mile log haul downhill from the sale area to the mill in Orleans and most the truckers were wrapping their log loads with just one binder.    After bringing this to the attention of the sale administrator, he contacted the mill representative and informed him this was a safety concern to the public and at least two binders needed to be applied to all loads or hauling would be suspended.   This definitely corrected the situation.    As summer progressed, so did the fire danger and a one o'clock shutdown was implemented for all operations where the relative humidity was below 30%.    On one afternoon all logging operations were shutdown by the logger, meeting this contractual requirement, but I could hear chain saws operating off in the distance.   After driving down a road, I met with two timber fallers, who had no idea of the 1 pm closure.    In fact I had no idea anybody was cutting this unit, including the sale administrator, who never pointed it out to me.   There may have been 6 to 8 sales operating on the District at the time.   It was more than this one sale administrator could oversee, plus supervising three log scalers.   A year later the other TSO and I were promoted to sale administrators at the GS-9 grade with full authority as field representatives for the Forest Service.  

 This sale was a learning process for me, and mostly by the trial and error method.   For the next 20 years I worked in sale administration on four National Forests, until I retired from the Forest Service as lead sale administrator at the GS-10 grade on the Cottage Grove Ranger District of the Umpqua National Forest in 1995.