Two Rivers Run Near-By

On a recent trip to Meridian, Idaho, to visit daughter Kelly, and son-in-law Travis,  our buddy and trusty cameraman, Paul Bakas came along for the ride. Well, from our humble abode, the ride was a little over 13 hours, non-stop. Laureen could not make this particular trip, due to conflicts in her work schedule, so it was up to the two boys this trip.

"Are you're sure that you both can go and not get into trouble?" she asked, a week before our departure.

I recalled, being in Pamplona, Spain, during the annual bull run, many years earlier, made famous by the great American author, Ernest Hemingway, and that hadn't worked out for the best. No I didn't get gored, but I'll never forget the breath of one bull running a lot faster than I was. I jumped over a short fence to safety. The man in front of me - well, one horn taught him a lesson.

"We won't get in trouble," I reassured Laureen.

And, we did not. The drive from Victorville to Meridian (a city nestled next door to Boise) was an easy one. Long, but easy.

This was not just a chance to visit with  Kelly and Travis, but we were to partake in two separate river excursions. Running the white water of the Payette River, with an experienced guide and then the next day, floating the calm and easy Boise River in an inner-tube.

The Crew: Kelly, John, Travis, and Paul taking the photo

Running the Payette River, is never to be taken for granted. Helmets, life vest, paddles, and a strict lecture, given by our guide, Lee MacDonald Pownau, to whom we nearly had to swear our souls.

"Where does rafting happen?" drill sergeant Lee asked.

"In the river," Paul replied.

The look Paul received from Lee was unnerving. I turned my head away. "It begins and ends in the raft. Without the raft, there is no rafting."

Captain Ahab - no, Captain Lee 

Actually, I was thinking, if there was no river, there wouldn't be the need of a raft. I remained silent, afraid my helmet, life vest, and soul would be lost to the churning waters upon which we were about to embark, if I disagreed with Lee.

We pushed off, and immediately took to the river like fish running for their lives. The next few hours reminded me of the time when I was a law enforcement officer. Most of the time, it was just a job taking reports, but - and this is a big but - there was about 5 to 10 percent of the time, it was stark raving crazy.

The raft behind us - the river can be tricky

"Paddle forward," Lee barked, and I wondered what the big deal was. Well, going over a six foot waterfall of bone crushing water was a big deal. The five of us, on our raft, paddled like people being chased by demons.

A rather relaxed section of the Payette at this time

According to Lee, the Payette was actually down quite a few feet from it's high mark in mid-June. That's when things can get dicey. It was dicey enough, and when we came ashore near the town of  Lowman we were all tired from paddling and looking for holes in the river (a term for river runners that would conjure doom).

Lowman is a very small settlement, situated in the mountains, about two hours north-east of Boise.

The owners of the Payette River Company, Sean and Ginger Glaccum, have a wonderful business, that not only allows people to raft along the Payette, but have experienced guides, who also know the history of the region.

With Lee, there was so much to learn, and he didn't scrimp on sharing his knowledge.

It was great river run: some scary rapids and some nice long runs, along placid clear blue water, allowing us to chit and chat. What more could one ask for?

The next day, it was off to the near-by river, the Boise, for the annual float enjoyed by locals and tourists alike. Very different from the previous day: no one was hanging on for dear life, hurtling down white water waterfalls. No, this was to be enjoyed by all ages.

The difference was surreal.

Floating down the Boise does not require lectures from expert white water guides. It's about having fun on a sunny day with family and friends. Utilizing inner tubes, flip-flops, and water proof cameras  is all that is required. The ride starts near a pub knocking back a couple of cold ones. We started off at Payette Brewing, just a few steps from the Boise River. A couple of toasts and then a short walk across the river to a waiting bus. A few bucks, and the bus dropped us off at the start of the float fifteen minutes later.

From there, it was simply laughing, laughing and laughing some more. No huge waterfalls - though, there are a few sections of speedy water, and a person could get tossed from their floaty if they aren't observant.

Kelly looks like she's struggling on the river, not!
 Looks more like a model.

Travis is wondering, why his beer hasn't been delivered. 

Paul, struggling through the treacherous waters of the Boise River
 - hang on Dude!

The city of Boise, only allows a certain time to float the Boise, due to weather conditions. When Laureen and I were there in early June, rafting wasn't allowed. The water was running too quickly and far too cold.

July and August are the months to enjoy, stretching out on an inner tube, or raft and enjoying the peaceful serenity of the currents.

The end of the trip winds up where we started, across from Payette Brewing and how perfect is that? Start with a brew and end with a brew.

Life couldn't, in this writer's opinion, be better than that.

When in Idaho, explore the rivers - and if there's enough courage - run one.

Love the water and the water will love you.

Photographs by: John R. Beyer and Paul K. Bakas

Randsburg - A Lively Ghost Town

The main street was deserted – eerily deserted. Early in the morning, a summer warming the air, with the sun just breaking over the eastern hills, but there was not a soul around.

That is a deserted main street

       “It’s like a ghost town,” I stated. While looking around the small town of Randsburg, approximately 70 miles north-west of Victorville, just off of Highway 395.

        “Well, it is a living ghost town,” said Nikki Goldfinch, a local resident stated, as she sat in her OHV in the center of town. Since, Nikki was the only person I had seen that morning in the downtown area, I flagged her down to ask a few questions about Randsburg.

      Actually, I hadn’t flagged her down like I was in mortal danger, but gave more of a simple wave and a smile. She was nice enough to stop and talk about her community with this stranger standing in the middle of the main street.

John interviewing Nikki in Randsburg

      Nikki and her husband Bill have lived in the mining town for about 3 ½ years and love it. “I wouldn’t live anywhere else but here.”

      “There’s no one about,” I observed.

      She nodded. “That’s the point – there’s no one about.”

      According to the 2010 census, Randsburg had 69 residents, but according to Nikki, there are really about 40 full time people living the mining community. “The rest come up on weekends or vacations to ride their dirt toys in the desert or do a little mining on their property.”

      “Does the town ever get crowded?” I asked.

      “It sure does,” was Nikki’s response.

Randsburg is popular with OHV riders - or Main Street riders for that matter

      Tourism is a huge business for the town, located a mile off the main thoroughfare, Highway 395, on the way to destinations like Mammoth and Lake Tahoe. The local restaurants, the Black Horse Tavern, the General Store, and the Owl Café, see multitudes of visitors during the weekends and special holiday events.

The 'Joint' - a fine eatery in town

    

Come and sit for a spell

 “We have a parade of lights for Christmas,” Nikki told me. “It was great – all these off-road toys lit up like Christmas trees. The whole town is decorated, starting near Thanksgiving. It’s just beautiful and interesting how people decorate the place.”

      The founding of Randsburg is interesting in itself, and almost happened by pure luck. Three miners, who had spent time in Death Valley, and other desert locals had come up with little for all their hard work in the mines. But then they stumbled into the hills surrounding present day Randsburg and discovered gold –  lots of it. The strike occurred in 1895 and by the end of 1896, the three had pulled out over $250,000 in rich ore. According to some official accounts, over 25 million dollars’ worth of gold has been dug out of the ground around Randsburg.

      Originally, the town was called Rand Camp and the first mine, Rand Mine, were both named after a rich gold mining area in South Africa. The name was later changed to Randsburg.

      Obviously, as with all gold finds, Rand Camp sprung up with saloons, brothels, and gambling halls, to entertain the hordes of miners rushing in to seek their fortunes. Where there is money to be found – vice is not far behind.

Aye - we all need good luck! When hunting for the gold.

Or, perhaps a healthy diet

      Thus the term, gold rush. The miners were actually rushing there, or at least walking quickly – to become rich in the often inhospitable desert climate.

      According to an article in Forgotten Destinations (2016), author Natasha Petrosova tells the whole story of the mining area, including the two small towns near Randsburg – Johannesburg and Red Mountain.

      In great detail, Petrosova, tells of the hardships and triumphs of the original claimants to the Rand Mine - Frederic Mooers, Charles Burcham, and John Singleton. After a short time, the three co-owners, changed its name to the Yellow Aster Mine, taking its name from a popular pulp novel by that title, that Mooers was currently reading.

      Ah, the power of the pen.

A fight to the death, or just good literature?

      In this desert location, water was always a problem. It either had to be shipped in at two dollars a barrel, or brought over great distances over the low lying hills by pipe. The piping system won and soon – well, not real soon – the mines and towns had running water.

      The boom lasted until the early 1920’s when the mines stopped producing the volume of gold ore needed to keep the miners happy. Some mines are still being worked, and in fact, the Yellow Aster Mine is still in operation today, as well as some smaller ones in the nearby hills.

      The sounds of heavy equipment could be heard echoing off the hills, as I spoke to Nikki on the main street.

      “They’re still finding gold today?” I asked.

      “Yes, and they are moving tons of dirt to find more,” she stated. “With more modern means, they are able to find the gold a bit easier than in the past.”

      I don’t know much about mining, so that one question about mining, was about all I had. The resurgence in mining in the vicinity has been going on for the past twenty years, and who knows – there may be another gold rush soon.

Perhaps, this ore crusher may come back into service soon - it could happen

      The current monetary bonanza though, is again with the tourism. The town has annual events which draws hundreds, if not thousands of visitors at one time. One such event, is the annual, Randsburg Old West Day, held each September. It’s an all-day event, which includes live bands, western shootouts, line dancing, a car show, and much more.

      “It’s pretty popular, and you better get here early to get a parking spot in town,” Nikki told me.

      Bidding farewell to Nikki, who drove off through town in her OHV, I wandered a bit through the deserted streets.

      She had told me that the town didn’t come alive until after ten in the morning, and that was usually on weekends – but when it comes to life – it really comes to life.

      I liked it quiet – thought provoking.

Very Quiet, but the memories of the past were there to see

      I often wondered why these towns, like Randsburg, are called living ghost towns, but now, after speaking with a local – I’m beginning to understand.

      Ghosts, aren’t something to fear, as those the reality television shows want us to believe. No, these ghosts are just the memories of those who have gone on before us, but leave in their footsteps something for us all to remember and cherish. To understand that they, like us, had dreams and aspirations – some came true and some, sadly, did not.

A window, looking into the past - perhaps, but no ghosts

      The point, is to go out and walk in those past footprints and to try to imagine what it must have been like in a different era. Different times but with similar hopes.

      A chance to be remembered and not forgotten.

      Philosophy 101? No, but perhaps a smile for these ghosts, at what they accomplished, or tried to, so many years ago. A nod at immortality.

For more information: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Randsburg,_California

Photographs by John R. Beyer and Paul K. Bakas

A Little Zoo with a Big Heart

The first time I ever encountered a grizzly bear was in Yellowstone National Park. A gorgeous hiking trail led me through magnificent, awe inspiring vistas. Passing beneath an umbrella of Engelmann spruce, just enjoying the remoteness of the park, I suddenly stopped in my tracks. Fifty feet from where my boots stopped, was what appeared to be a juvenile grizzly bear sleeping a few feet off of the trail.

Being the wise outdoors man, I stopped and took out my camera. What a great opportunity for a photo of this marvelous creature in its natural surroundings. It dawned on me, as I was snapping a few photos, the warnings of the national park concerning such encounters.

Please keep a distance of 300 hundreds yards and the parks bears.

As the juvenile opened its peepers, raised its rather large furry head, and stared at me, I thought, hmmm, maybe there is something to the warnings, after all. After five quick snaps with the camera, I slowly backed up the trail. By the time junior stood up and started sniffing the air, I was barreling down the trail I had come by, trying not to look like a tasty salmon in the process.

No, John didn't ride like Putin - he ran from the bear

“I’m glad your life insurance is paid up,” my lovely spouse, Laureen, said after I returned to camp and explained about my death-defying adventure.

The second time I came eye to eye with a grizzly bear was at the Big Bear Alpine Zoo, located in Moonridge, just north-east of the Bear Mountain Ski Resort in Big Bear in Southern California. It should be noted, that this zoo, according to The Active Times magazine, is one of the best small zoos in the United States – and that ain’t nothing to sneeze at!

This is more John's speed at handling a bear

This time though, the bear and I were separated by a chain link fence. “This is the way it’s done,” Laureen whispered in my left ear. I shrugged, in return.

That's a big bear next to Laureen!

According to the zoo curator, Bob Cisneros, the zoo has been captivating tourists and locals alike for over fifty years. The zoo started as a rescue mission for injured and misplaced animals after a terrifying and destructive forest fire descended on the San Bernardino National Forest in 1959. With nowhere to go, locals volunteered to take care of the animals injured in the fire with little or no direction of how to run an animal recuse. But soon, the Moonridge Animal Park (its original name) opened, and the rest is mountain history.

Through the generous donations of everyday people and a few government grants, the animal park continued to grow and grow. Today, now known at the Big Bear Alpine Zoo, the facility is home to over 85 species of animals and birds.

“Our rescues and imprinted animals (those animals that have been raised in captivity and then given up or released by their owners and cannot survive in the wild) equal roughly ninety percent of the zoo’s population,” Cisneros said.

The zoo takes up nearly two and half acres, nestled at roughly 7,100 feet above sea level, in the mountains and hosts tens of thousands of visitors per year.

And tourists have to have fun

But a new facility is in the works, and according to Cisneros, the five and a half acre site should be completed sometime between the fall of 2019 and spring of 2020.

“We don’t want to make the move during the winter,” he stated. “That would be hard on the animals and us, if there’s a lot of snow or ice.”

The new facility is just a short distance from the present site, and is nothing but state of the art in the world of zoos.

“This will be an amazing zoo when we get it completed. Many changes in the way it is run, including monthly wellness checks on all the animals in our care,” Cisneros said. “Top-notch and a big-league move for us here in Big Bear.”

With nearly twenty-two years, at the San Diego Zoo, one of the preeminent animal habitats in the nation, Cisneros wants the Big Bear Alpine Zoo to follow suit. “We’re on track to be accredited by the Association of Zoos and Aquariums, only about ten percent of zoos in the United States have achieved that honor.”

“When I got here about four years or so ago, there was a lot of work to be done,” he acknowledged. “The people were doing an outstanding job, but we needed to move in a more progressive manner, for the animals and tourists alike.”

Though the new zoo has been in the works for nearly 20 years in all its phases, the movement for completion has really picked up speed under Cisneros’s vision.

Asked if he was excited about the completion of the new facility, he responded, “There’s so much to be done, it’s not exciting, it’s more like planning a huge wedding. The excitement will come the day, I see crowds coming through the new gates. For now, there’s too much to do to worry about how I’ll feel when it’s done.”

One of the new enclosures under construction

Artist's rendering of the new entrance to the zoo

That made sense to us, as we wandered through the present Alpine Zoo in Moonridge. A huge crowd of adults and children went from enclosure to enclosure, oohing and ahhhing, about this animal or that animal.

There were grizzly bears, black bears, bobcats, coyotes, barn owls, deer, and a whole host of other wildlife for the tourists. It was like being on Old McDonald’s Farm, except that I had never been on his farm, but it seemed like that would be a good analogy.

One enclosure housed a kit fox, by name of Kit Kat. One of the animal specialists, a young lady with a great personality by the name of Paula Burns, gave a short lecture, not only about Kit Kat, but about the zoo itself. But what interested us the most, was when she hid a dead mouse in Kit Kat’s abode and within fifteen seconds, that little fox found the treat.

Kit Kat is a pretty darn smart fox

“Kit Kat’s very smart,” she observed.

“I could do that, if you hid a cheeseburger,” I told Laureen.

“Especially if it had bacon on it,” she agreed. One second, and I would have found the hiding place, take that Kit Kat!

The new facility, according to Cisneros, will cost approximately eight million dollars, with nearly three million coming from donations. “The rest will be from government grants and the like.”

That alone should show how much the public wants and needs a zoo in the San Bernardino Mountains. Private donations making up a goodly sum of the total cost – rather impressive, to say the least.

We walked the zoo, taking photos here and there and realized how wonderful the staff at the Big Bear Alpine Zoo were to those under their care. Animals hurt, from being struck by vehicles, those harmed by insensitive humans, or simply those who could not fend for themselves in the wild and were brought to this sanctuary. Bob Cisneros, and his crew are heroes – for the wildlife and for us who want to come and visit that wildlife up close and personal.

Get out there and visit a zoo - it's a breath of fresh air. Generally, because most of it, is outside. But, watch the signs.

For more information: https://bigbearzoo.org/