Back in the summer of 1985, in the month of August, the camp guys from the Never Can Know camp threw a bachelor party for one of my many brothers-in-law, the yuppie one, Marc.  It turned out to be one to be remembered.  Marc and I went up to the camp Friday afternoon before with the beer, beverages, snacks and food and to open camp.  When opening camp, we found that some A-hole stole our well pump!  It wouldn’t be the end of the world but it would be a bit of an inconvenience; we would not have the use of our shower and at that time all we had was a shower head nailed to a pine tree out back.  We would just have to carry our water for the dishes and bath in the creek.  Marcs brother Poke, and a few of his yuppie friends, were coming up and it would be amusing to watch them roughing It.  Turned out to be quite a hoot!

That Friday night Poke, who was all busted up from a car accident, had to use canes to get around with 4 or 5 of his yuppie friends rolled in.  Ray, Big Beef and some of the old boys from the Hemlock camp came over, we built a big old campfire, commenced to popping some tops off some cold ones and got to the roasting of Marc.  It was a great night of ball busting; a good time was had by all.  

The next morning we had a big camp breakfast.  Then after taking a little break, we had a few cold ones.  The yuppies wanted to get cleaned up, so I told them to grab a towel, a bar of soap, a change of duds, I had just the spot.  We grabbed a cooler and all piled into Big Beefs cargo van and headed for Big Birch on the Keating mountain road.  It’s a nice little stream and at that time it was dammed up at the bridge; making a little swimming hole for those that could handle the cold mountain stream water.  If you could last the cold mountain water, you would look like one of those Smurf cartoon characters; blue from head to toe!

Now once we got to Big Birch, we parked along Birch Island road along the stream.  Everyone climbed out of the van and of course it took a while to get Poke out and up on his canes; he sure didn’t move very fast.  We set the cooler out and were drinking some beers and doing some socializing.  Some of the yuppies grabbed their soap and towel and walked over to the swimming hole, a few of them got buck naked, and started to get scrubbed up, there was a few of us Marc and Poke, Big Beef and Ray were standing around the cooler when Poke wobbled to the back of the van to take a pee, he gave a yell that there was a snake laying up on the bank so we walked back and he pointed it out and asked what kind it was.  It was a about a 5 foot yellow timber rattler all stretched out laying in the sun.  

I said Rattle Snake!  I should never have said it so loud, that’s when all hell broke loose, it was complete chaos!  Well poor Poke, he was scared out of his mind and was trying to get back up and out of there; his canes were going one way and he was going another; it was hilarious.  Then someone, I am thinking it was Big Beef, yelled to the fellows in the creek to put a scare in them that if there is one there has to be more and did it ever, they grabbed their stuff half naked and came running up out of the water.  While all this was going on Marc, who was not very athletic, yuppies pretty much only play golf and sit at a desk.  Well at that particular moment he looked like an Olympian runner competing in the 100 yard dash; he ran past Poke like he was on his way to winning a gold medal, never slowing down to help him, hell if he would have been in his way there is no doubt, he would have either hurdled or ran over him!  Now that is real brotherly love.  He was halfway back up Big Birch by the time the dust settled, everyone gathered around while keeping their distance to look at the rattler and we had to coax Marc back down the hill; I thought we may have to call in a crisis mediator but he finally came down.  He still stayed way back.  Someone asked me what are we going do with that rattler?  I said I did not bring my gun so as far as I was concerned it could do whatever it took a notion to do; I was not messing with it!

While we were talking this over, we heard a truck coming down over the hill just popping, banging and back-firing like crazy.  When it made it to the bottom it looked to be about a 1949 Ford pickup truck.  There was two fellows in the front and two kids in the bed around 11 or 12.  They pulled over and asked what we were into?  We offered up a beer then told them about the snake.  By this time I thought I wouldn’t mind having that rattler to skin and put on a board to put on the camp wall.  I asked them if they had a gun, they did so, I asked if they would shoot it for me?  The one fellow said if you want that snake, I will get it.  He started towards it when one of those kids yelled with extreme excitement “please, please let me get it for them daddy!”.  The dad said best I do it, you could see the disappointment in the lads eyes.  He grabbed up a 3 foot stick went up that bank pinned the head down then holding the stick he reached into his pocket and pulled a pen knife out opened it with one hand, reached right on down with no hesitation at all and cut that rattlers head off.  He kept the head pinned while the body was flopping around, dug a hole with the heel of his boot slid it over putting it in the hole then covered it up, picked up the snake climbed down the bank and handed it to me saying you have to be careful with the head.  That whole scene blew the yuppies away, myself included.  It truly looked like a scene straight out of the movies.

In the meantime, those boys were over playing in the creek and when their dad gave a yell for them, they came up with their faces all painted up like Indian warriors.  I never gave any thought to where or how the Indians made their war paint.  What I can tell you is those kids knew how.  They finished their beer then loaded up and headed on towards Keating.

We climbed back in the cargo van and headed back to the camp with the headless rattler for another evening around the campfire.  One of those yuppies made the remark that when having a bachelor party back home, it would have been in a town, maybe at a strip club with girls providing the entertainment.  This was the first one he had ever been to in the middle of nowhere with a rattle snake to provide the entertainment.

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

I had two of these through the years and was partners on a third one we used for parts.  Now trying to explain what these vans could do and were capable of, is not going to be easy, to tell the true story I need to make the readers believe that what I claim is not BS.  If I hadn’t been the owner and driver, I would struggle to believe them myself.  I always had Broncos, Jeeps and different 4 wheel drive vehicles that I loved, in fact I drove one Bronco for 25 years, well anyhow I wasn’t getting any younger, loading and unloading the camp gear, food and whatever else I needed was a pain in the rear, loading and unloading with a tailgate sucked so I thought I would try a van.  The rest is history.

Bigs 1982 Bronco

I took the third row seat out then I had more room than I have ever had for all I had to haul.  With no tailgate to deal with, it was a breeze to load and unload and I still had room for 5.  Then as I drove it a few times in the snow I could not believe how it got around!  After a few more times in the mud and snow I got brave and started to use it off road!  I had to watch the ground clearance but outside of that, they out did the trucks and other 4 wheel drives when it came to getting around in the snow.  I would cut firewood and haul it back in the van, I had a closed in trailer I would overload and pull with the van and a bunch of other crazy stuff.   It came to be called the Manly Mans Van!

Now to the main event!  After coming back from going to town to eat one night I had a few of the guys with me in my van and John Boy AKA Yuppie had a few with him in his brand new spanking hot 2008 4 wheel drive Silverado equipped with the Special Black Package!  When pulling back into camp, the Yuppie took the top drive, I took the bottom.   We arrived in front of the camp, nose to nose, me in my raggedy ass van.  I was looking at that Black Package Chevy, now something would have to give, and it wasn’t going to me, the yuppie felt the same.  There is no way he was going to back up for no damn van, no matter if it was a manly man’s van or not.  Hell, after all he had the Black Package to back him up and may have been thinking that Big Lee and that van needed to be taught a lesson!  Well I creeped up till we were bumper to bumper, the guys in my van got out and went up on the camp porch while egging me on.  Yuppies guys did the same.  So now we got the guys on the porch howling and yelling to give them a show.  There was no backing down now for either of us, our pride was on the line!  It was on!

Black package vs. Big Lees Manly Man's van

He locked his into 4 wheel drive and they tell me I had fire coming out of my eyes when I mashed my gas pedal to the metal, the Yuppie did the same, the ice and snow with dirt and rocks were flying!  The rubber was burning, there was blue smoke rolling off the tires!  The engines’ were screaming, our adrenalin was flowing, then after a short time of jostling back and forth the manly man van got a good grip and I slowly pushed that black package Silverado to where I could have pushed him over the edge of the bank, I let him off the hook then.  The manly man van was victorious!  The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.

Black package vs. Big Lees Manly Man's van

And now the rest of the story.  All the guys came down off the porch, we checked for any bumper damage, there was none, unbelievable!  Everyone was cracking up laughing, some of them had tears coming out of their eyes.  I did not know if it was from laughing at us or feeling bad for Yuppie knowing he would have to live with being out done by a van.  And then Little Joe, aka Big Country said I will get your van out of the way and jumped in and backed up hitting a tree, just a tap, no damage, but when he went to pull around us, he claimed his foot stuck to the gas as he hit yuppies front bumper ripping my front fender and bumper almost off.  Well shit happens it was no big deal, just more to laugh at.  We grabbed a hand full of drywall screws and some pull ties then put it back together good enough to drive home.  I found another van, one with the motor out for $200.  Knobber felt bad and wanted to go halves on it so that’s how we became partners on it.  We used the parts off of it to fix mine up.  It was as good as new!  

Foot note: From the day I put the parts off the van I was in partnership with Big Country on my last van, he claimed that made him a partner in that van and to this day when he brings this story up it always starts out with “Our Van, what a guy!” And the Yuppie took the defeat like a man.

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

Well the first thing those that are soon to become an old fart have to come to grips with, if they haven’t already, they will learn soon enough that the days of getting up, having a coffee, getting dressed, grabbing your gun, then to beat feet to their favorite stand with little effort… they can kiss those days goodbye!

Here are a few of the things old farts have to deal with.  Now right from the get-go some of the younger guys will say they have to deal with the same difficulties but when they make it to old fart status (average age 67, some get there sooner) they will then understand that the difficulty factor rises to a whole new level!  Along with so many others: crawling out of a nice warm bed at camp around 4 or 5 in the morning with all the aches and pains, arthritis, not to mention all the self-inflicted abuse they brought upon themselves when they were young and dumb.

Next is to start to worry about taking a crap… this is at the top of the list before heading out.  What to eat?  Checking the weather and what the temp is (hoping for rain so they can crawl back into bed) and then trying to figure out how to dress.  Next is where the heck to hunt that morning.  They have accumulated many upon many of stands throughout the years, figuring out which one to go to is mind boggling.  Then the rush sets in trying to get all this done and getting to their stand on time and before walking out the camp door asking themselves, do I really want to do this?

When on the way to their stand, reality sets in!  They are most likely gonna have to crap in the woods and have dressed either too heavy or too lite, knowing that they are going to be late and when getting to their stand they will be all sweated up, they will undoubtedly second guess themselves wondering if they picked the right stand?  Trying to take a pee when first heading in so they don’t have to when they get there, this never works out.  There is little doubt after they get to their stand, clearing it out and getting situated, they will need to pee. Then hoping to make it for a few hours before getting cold. Being a old fart myself and hunting with other old farts these observations are spot on; these are just the morning difficulties that have to be overcome for an old fart to continue to hunt.  

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

Being Faganmatized is a real thing, it really does happen!  So, I had to come up with a word to be able to describe what happens to the young lads when they are hanging around camp with the Fagan clan.   That’s how the word (Faganmatize) came to be.   Now say If someone would see them getting into Dutch, they would ask me, “what the hell got into those boys?”.   I just would have to say “they have been Faganmatized”.   By this time there was not a camp on the mountain that did not know what the word Faganmatized meant.   If someone else were to ask where are the boys, my reply would be, they went to the Hemlock camp and I am sure they have been Faganmatized and lost all track of time, you see there are no clocks in the land of Faganmatizem.   I would most likely have to go gather them up.  

This all started when we use to visit the old Hemlock camp, now that it’s gone it now happens at the new Never Forgotten Camp aka NFC camp.   All the Fagan boys have the ability to place this spell on a unsuspecting young camper.   Now Bud aka Bud ski, sad to say is not with us anymore, and Joe aka Jewcey not forgetting Fred aka Cocktail Fred, these three and little Joe aka big country just learning, they were the best at Faganmatizing the young lads.  

What is Faganmatizem?  Only males with Fagan blood running through their veins can carry this powerful gene and be able to live with it, it is highly infectious and is highly contagious especially to the young males at camp, females have a natural resistance (thank goodness) It makes them do things they would never do if they were not Faganmatized.   It makes them a tad ornery and the young lads will grow little devil horns 😈 and have a great big old appetite for mischief, they will not be able to help themselves, all this is true.   I have seen it with my own two eyes.  

Then while under the spell, temptation sets in and they have no fear and are more than willing to experience, see, and try so many different things with those three Fagan boys putting them up to no good!  I cannot speak of them specifically, whatever pranks, jokes, and tricks that they would inflict on the unexpected.   What they did comes under the camp rule # 1 that states: what goes on at camp stays at camp.   Like a drug, once they have been Faganmatized they just cannot get enough.   (For a good example read Boys will be Boys.)

When we would come to camp Bob, Leroy, Adam and Scott and any other of the kids that would be tagging along would have their tails wagging and would be chomping at the bit.   Before we would even have the camp opened up, they were wanting to head for the Hemlock camp, all they needed to do was get there to get their fix.   Now being Faganmatize is all fun in games till they send them back to me to take home, I would have to de-Faganmatize them.   There is just no way I could take them home while they were still Faganmatized!  I had to deal with all the mothers when dropping them off.   I shudder just thinking what would happen if I dropped them off while they were still under the influence.  

Now to de-Faganmatize these young lads is a hard nut to crack!  One way was to tell them to snap out of it and then administer a good swift kick in the backside.   As time slowly moved along that remedy quit working, they became immune, their butts went numb.   The next thing I tried after hearing about an old retired pharmacist that may be able to help me by concocting some different drugs to come up with a pill that if taken before they got to the Hemlock camp would prevent the Faganmanation from taking hold, these did work for a short time but they wore out, all those boys would become immune.  

Fagan Antidote Prescribed by Dr Lee for Henry, Henry, Big A and Scooter. Take 2 tabs within 3 hours of any contact with any Fagan or before going to the Hemlock camp. This is for the prevention of being Faganmatized or catching Faganmatitis.

Conclusion once Faganmatized they will always be Faganmatized

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

Uncle Ray and I find this story a bit humorous, some may find it kind of dumb, I guess it's where you were raised.   After reading this story you can come to your own conclusion.

This story begins when we first started to build the never can know camp.   After clearing the ground, the next thing to be done was digging and pouring the concrete for the footers.   We had room in the pickup truck to bring what blocks we needed, concrete and sand.   We figured we would have no trouble finding a place to buy the shell to mix with the concrete and sand.   We went up to the old crow’s foot camp and asked Norm where we could get some shell.   He tells us that there are piles of shell back off the Jim L road and said to go and get all we wanted, no one would care.   We asked old Norman who we should pay, no one it's free.   We thought wow, that's great!   So off we go down Jim L Road to the end and we could not find any shell.   But we did find an unkept and abandoned cemetery.   We were confused, thought we must have gone to the wrong place?   When we went back to ask Norm about it, he was gone.

We decided to make a run to Karthaus, may find some shell there.   We pulled into the Wooster’s garage and store, we went in and asked the old fella where we could buy some shell.   He gave us the "are you crazy" look.   Then asked why we would want to buy shell.   I said we needed it to mix our concrete.   He said he has never heard of such a thing!   I said that’s how we do it where we come from, well if shell is what you want just go across the road and follow the dirt road up the hill, lots of shell there, help yourself.   We drove to the end in what was an old strippings, no shell.   What the hell!   Back we go, still no shell. When we got back to Wooster’s garage what do we see?   A pile of shell and a backhoe parked down alongside the garage!   Back in the garage we go, said we could not find any shell, but we see you have some and do you sell it?   He said I sell 2b limestone, well that’s what we want to mix our concrete with.   Ok, pull around and I will load you up but I have to tell you two that shell is not 2b limestone!   Shell is what is left over after they stripped back in the old days.

When we were growing up, we only knew limestone as shell, shell to us was slate, 2b only meant what size the shell was.   So, their lies the confusion.   We laugh our butts off on the way back to camp!   We must have drove 20 miles looking for shell not knowing what we were looking for.   The more beer we drank, the funnier it was, at least to us. You would have thought why they would want to give limestone away. That should have been a clue?   Live and learn.

In Blair county we had shell in our parking lots, driveways, alleys and mixed it with our sand and cement to make concrete so we thought.   Hell, we even spelled it and pronounced it wrong, the correct spelling and pronunciation is Shale, to us 2b meant only what the size of the shale was.   In the Blair county area, most rednecks say shell for shale, then there is winda for window, pilla for pillow, crick for creek, yinz for you guys, go win for going.

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

The best time for an early winter walk is the week after deer season is over in mid-December.   There is very little hunting and just about all the camps are closed up and everyone would have gone home for Christmas.   A few will be back for late muzzleloader season after Christmas, but for these next two weeks the woods will return to its natural majestic way of being sleepy, calm and undisturbed.   This is the best time to find an out of the way forestry road or maybe a tram road or trail.   A winters walk is not for everyone; it can be a bit cold and a little windy with a little snow but if you dress right, the elements will not be a concern.   For some, that cool fresh breeze blowing them in their face brings on that peppermint patty sensation!   If you were looking for a place for a little self-reflection and to clear your head, it will not be long into the walk that you will have discovered you came to the right place!

There is a very distinct difference between a spring, summer or a fall walk.   The woods at this time of the year are getting ready to go into their deep winter hibernation mode.   The woods are so serene with very little activity to distract you from whatever deep thoughts that may be on your mind, troublesome or pleasant, it makes no never mind the woods can help.

A blacked capped Chickadee, or a gray squirrel scurrying in search of some feed, may distract you just a tad and by this time most of the other animals would have gorged themselves and hopefully they put on enough fat to carry them through to spring.

So hopefully after a good long brisk walk the woods would have helped you figure out a problem or help you to appreciate even more of what makes you happy.   The big woods or any woods for that fact can help.

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

Wondering how the woods can make you feel so good and just make everything right in the world?   How this happens, I'm not sure anyone knows and you would not get an argument out of anyone who ever spent just a little time in the woods.   There is no denying this is a fact.   As this thought fades away, you just know everyone roaming around out here in the woods will be conjuring up all kinds of pleasant thoughts.

Wondering how I got so lucky to be able to spend so much time in the woods, this thought never ever slips by.

Wondering how mother nature puts it all together, the smell of the big woods, especially in the fall, there is not a fragrance in the whole world that could smell better!   Wondering how all the different colored leaves, with the trees for the background, add in some bright red hawthorn berries, with bright colored teaberries on the forest floor would blend so well together to paint a picture, second to none!

Wondering what sounds you will hear that day.   You’re sure to hear woodpeckers, crows, squirrels, the leaves rattling if there is a breeze... these are a given...   hoping to hear some turkeys squawking, maybe going to roost, elk bugling, the snort of a buck and some coyote howls towards evening.   Not forgetting the drumming of a grouse.   There has never been a tune written that could sound any better, not even a symphony by Mozart.

Wondering what all this would taste like if you could just take a big old bite out of the woods, just imagine stirring up all the flavors the woods have to offer, and then to serve it up.   It would be mouthwatering!   There would be no chef, no baker, no cook, that could match it.

Wondering after being in the woods and savoring all that they have to offer up.   Your dessert would be letting that calm, content, oh so satisfying feeling that eases your mind settle in, then taking you to your very own special place, that only the woods can do.   

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

This one took place on a coyote hunt.   We were waiting for Kelly, a professional firefighter who put you in mind of one of those New York firefighters that would be on a calendar, being buff, good looking and macho.

As it goes, we were all meeting at a camp that our friends owned at the top of big Birch.   That day we had about 6 to 8 inches of fresh snow.   We were all sitting in the camp waiting for the firefighter to get there, he was the last hunter we were waiting for.   Then, as we were all sitting around having a coffee talking over the hunt, the door opens and there stood the firefighter.   Someone said "what the hell, we never heard you pull in".   He said "I'm down at the bottom of big Birch and I can't get my vehicle up the hill and had to walk up".   You could see he was a bit embarrassed, he had to take some ball busting from the guys asking what the heck kind of vehicle was he driving, I can't remember but it was a 4 wheel drive pickup truck.

One of the guys, Keith, had his 4 wheeler there and told him to jump on he would take him down and would try to help pull him up the hill.   Now I had no doubt that the manly man van could handle that steep and winding hill, that damn van goes like hell in the snow.   After waiting a while and figuring that they were making no progress, I told a few of the fellas to jump in the van and we would ride down and check it out.   A few of those fellows that have never been in the van before were a bit skeptical themselves.

So down the hill we go to the bottom, there's that big bad Grizzly Yamaha 4 Wheeler hooked on to the front of that pickup truck and they were spinning and sliding but not making much progress.   That Grizzly was struggling a bit.   I just drove by them, did a circle amd came back by them blowing the horn, we all waved and yelled "buy a van".   Looked like that fireman was burning up a tad and maybe a 4 alarm bell was going to go off.   We then drove up the hill without spinning a tire. When we were halfway up the hill on the steep, I stopped and got out and yelled back down the hill, "if you don't make it up in a little while, me and my manly man’s van will come pull you up!".   I got back in that van and once again, without spinning a wheel, pulled right out and went back up to the camp.   I made those few guys that were skeptical, believers.

(Kelly had this same face on when that damn van lit him up)

He finally made it up and had to take some more ball busting about being out done by a damn van!   He kept mumbling and rambling on all the rest of the day, something about having bad tires.   All was good, the hunt was on!

Big Lee with the help of Tanner aka Easy

Never Can Know Camp

This story took place around 2010 or 2011 and I was very little.   My father has told me this story a lot of times and it’s really entertaining to hear.   We were at Pottersdale park, the old one, and there was a major storm blowing over.   It wasn't bad at the start, but it turned out to be a huge hurricane sort of storm!   It started getting worse and worse overtime and then it got so bad we had to stop playing.   My dad had flipped over all the picnic tables, making walls around the pavilion we were sitting at.   Soon it got so terrible that the picnic tables couldn't even stand the weather!   We had to go inside the concession stand.   My dad broke open the concession stand door and we stood inside that concession stand until the storm had passed.   When the storm was over, my dad was really mad at himself; he broke down the door and it was public property so he really felt bad.   The next time we went down there my dad had bought a new door to put on the concession stand and a new lock too!   My daddy and my pap helped fix the door so it would stay on the concession stand.   And then 2 weeks later the whole park had been plowed over, so we put a door on the concession stand for no reason!   Remember the title of this story?   Well it's that title for a reason.   It had saved our lives therefore that concession stand was a hero.   This will be a story that will be forever told through the Never Can Know Camp.  

Gabby H.

Never Can Know Camp

Growing up back in the late 50’s and early 60’s, a few things an 11 or 12 year old boy had to worry about was trying to figure out how to come up with a little money for a bottle of pop, a bag of chips, and a nickel or two for the pinball machine, hoping to win a few games without tilting it.   To make this happen, 25 cents was needed.   Coming up with that quarter was not an easy chore!   Worrying about having a bicycle with tires that could hold air was big, it did not have to have a chain guard or rubber on the pedals, that would have been a luxury.   Remembering to keep your right pant leg rolled up and your shoes dry was a must!

Back in those summer days you could do just about anything you wanted to do.   Play games of pickup ball, ride bicycles, build tree cabins and swim.   Drugs were not even heard of.   Perverts would have known better to mess with any of the kids; they would not have been tolerated.   The biggest worry were the arc lights, now called streetlights.   When they came on, you knew it was time to have your butt home.   When they would start to flicker, it was time to jump on that bike and race the lights home.   The baby boomers did not have much, a bike and a quarter was pretty much all they needed.

Now a days the kids don't play outside much.   There are way too many things to do inside and way too many bad things outside!   So, the ark lights are not needed any more.   So Sad!   And even if the kids were to play outside till dark, the parents would just call them on their cell phones to say it's time to come in.

We were living the dream, then the late 60’s and early 70’s brought us Vietnam, drugs, race riots, the draft, flag burning, spitting on returning troops, Nixon and great division.   With so much confusion, these were very bad and shameful days in our history and it is repeating itself!   A lesson not learned!   Baby Boomers should recall these days and the millennials should study these days.   Talking to each other with respect and understanding.   Remembering that it's not all about me!

A 12 oz bottle of pop was 10 cents to drink in, 12 cents take out.   A bag of chips 5 cents.   A nickel a game for pinball.   Jukebox 10 cents a song or 3 songs for a quarter.   2 cents for an 8, 10, 12, 16 oz. returned bottles.   5 cents for quart bottles.   2 bits = 25 cents.   4 bits = 50 cents.   25 cents for a day at Memorial swimming pool in Juniata.   Free swimming at 8ft Bellwood, Big rock ,Whopsy, Van armor

The importance of arc lights have faded along with our innocents.

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

When they changed bear season to open on Saturday a few years back, that was the beginning of the end! And now moving the first day of buck to Saturday the end is here! Before I continue, change is inevitable, and we all need to know this, change is not the end for everyone.   It is in my opinion that this change is bad, I am also saying it is a sad day.   Back when just about everyone hunted, we younger hunters would never get to hunt the first day or the first week.   It was all about seniority, the old guys got their vacation and personal days first and they were well earned.   We had to wait for the first Saturday and hope for some time in the second week.   That’s just how it was!

After waiting for 10 years or so on the job, I finally got my turn.   The anticipation was insane! Getting to be part of the weekend before the first day, made the first day even more special.   If that was even possible; After finally getting my chance to be part of the hunting camp tradition this is what makes it special.   Getting a head count, planning the meals, getting the food shopping done.   Then on Saturday everyone meeting for breakfast on the way to camp.   After getting all caught up, then head for camp.   Our adrenalin would start to slowly build! And we have not even made it to camp yet.   After getting camp opened up, a fire built and our gear put away it was time for a good ice cold one, that first cold one at camp was like no other! The adrenalin really flowing.   Saturday afternoon was spent visiting other camps that we had become friends with and hunted with over the years.   We would talk about the upcoming hunt, over a few cold ones, where everyone was hunting and to plan a few drives.   Back to camp for our first camp meal, who ever was cooking had to get busy.   After eating it was time to sit around and let the hunting stories and bull fly, usually it would go on late into the night.   Sunday morning after breakfast we would go check our stands and do a little scouting.   Shoot our rifles in, then maybe a run to Clearfield to Bobs army navy , Grice or Jim’s if we needed anything?   Or just to look around, I feel bad for these businesses they are going to take it on the chin.   Then after our evening meal we would pack a few sandwiches, get our gear ready, make sure we had a roster made up with one posted on the camp door.(not needed any more) Then time for bed, by this time the adrenalin is over the moon, especially the young guys; and a restless night sleep for some.   All this was camp tradition! Was the same for bear camp.   And to be honest our camps have been slowly losing tradition with the passing of the older fellows.Now with opening day on Saturdays for bear and buck there is no Saturday and Sundays to do all of these things, we will be missing all the camaraderie with hunting buds at a relaxed easy going place like camp.   Now some will get off work on Friday grab their gear get to camp unload get up Saturday morning, hunt and pack it up Sunday, and go home not all but some would have to work on Monday.   I would guess that there are more hunters that hunt from their homes than there are from camps, I believe that they will be happy about the Saturday hunt.   The older hunters with camps not so much, they are going to take this awfully hard.   Its hard to face it, but with what seems like so few hunters coming along to carry on the traditions who knows what the future will be.   To think that my grandchildren are not going to experience all the wonder and the magical weekend before the first day is so so sad!

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

One last thought, the Sunday hunt!   I believe this is going to happen in the near future, if so, this may be a mistake.   let’s let the woods have a day off , mother nature needs time to rest and replenish.

When sitting around that ring of fire and staring at the hot coals, watching the hot embers floating towards the stars makes you feel like you’re sitting in the center of the universe, calm and relaxing.   Other nights the kids will be laughing and carrying on, while roasting hot dogs trying to brown marshmallows without catching them on fire, making smores, and mountain pies.   The kids will never forget these fires.   Then you have the adult campfires, with good friends, these can get very interesting!   As good as a cold beer tastes, drinking them around that fire somehow gives them a flavor that’s out of this world.   (best in our universe ) then there are the adult jokes ( some dirty and using bad words ) without worrying about offending anyone.   Then there is the ball busting oh yeah,the thin skinned are going to get roasted and not by the fire, everyone will get their turn.   These fires go late into the night before everyone starts to burn out and call it a night.   In the morning the fire will still have hot coals, with a little help it will fire up in time to sit by the fire and enjoy your morning coffee also the best in our universe.   Cook breakfast on the fire then it’s time to get moving! Born wood not daylight.

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

Back when we first built our camp in 1981, we got the bright idea to put up an antenna and put a TV in the camp.   It turned out not to have been one of our better ideas.   Uncle Ray and I put a TV antenna up on the Hill in a tree. It was a real pain in the butt getting it up there and trying to get it adjusted.   After all that, we could only get channel 10 Altoona and channel 3 was the PBS channel.

I just told you about the antenna to throw you off from the final ending of this story.   Everyone is going to think right away that lighting or maybe a tree fell over or something else happened that would have caused the TV to blow up, not so.   The problem was not even with the TV, it was the kids that caused it to blow up.   I had kids with me all the time; nephews, nieces, neighbor kids, any kid that wanted to go was welcome.   We had all kinds of things for them to enjoy outside.

This is how it went down... me and a bunch of the kids were at camp on a Saturday morning and they were watching TV.   I said let's go out for a ride.   One of them, not sure who, said no we want to watch cartoons instead.   I was P.o.'d and I almost blew up!   Then I said, do you guys want to watch something funny?   Just watch this!   I unplugged that perfectly good floor model 21-inch Zenith TV, ripping the antenna wires off the back, and dragged it out the back door.   I set it out back, went and got my Dan Wesson 7- and one-half inch barrel 357 Magnum pistol.   Now I said stand back behind me and cover your ears I will show you guys something funny and it's not cartoons.   I put my bead on the screen, fired 6 rounds, and blew that TV to high heaven!   All that was left was glass and wood splinters!   I said there would be no more TV's at this camp, we are here to do camp stuff.   This was another one of those moments when the look in their eyes was priceless (another real Kodak moment) Now to this very day, 38 years later, there is still no TV's in the camp; we sure don't need a TV to have fun.

Now if any of those kids that are not kids anymore read this.   Thank you guys. Our camp would have never turned out to be camp where you can sit, talk, relax and enjoy each other with no distractions from a TV.

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

The big Woods is a place to go to use your 5 natural senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch.   You truly cannot experience them on a TV like you can in nature's playground.

This story starts out on another beautiful fall day.   It was deer archery season, back around 2000, when you could still drive on the power lines.   I was hunting up on top the powerline off the fire tower road.   Now getting up the side was a bit of a challenge!   All those lose rocks and it is straight up, it also could get a little hairy on the way back down.

I got my morning hunt in and was on my way back to camp, I made it to the tower road when I felt a thump thump, flat tire for sure.   I got out to take a look see , Yep the tire sidewall was blown out , not sure if those rocks may have caused it or not?   ( no biggie ) Grabbed my floor Jack and spare tire out of the back of my Bronco, had it changed in a few minutes and was on my way.   This would be no problem, back in those days just about all the camp guys drove fords with 15 inch rims, so we kept a few around just for that reason.   I made it back to camp.   Junior, Knobber, Yuppie, Bud ski, I cannot remember who else was standing around the fire ring having a few refreshing ice cold adult beverages, soda for the young guys.

Now just a few weeks earlier Knobber dropped off 4 Firestone tires on rims and ,said we could use them for spares.   He had gotten all new tires and wheels for his truck; I told the guys about the flat.   I went over and was going to pick out the best one for my spare, I said to myself hell man, these tires are better than the ones I have on.   I got junior's opinion he agreed ( that does not happen often we never agree on much of anything ) a father son thing ?   I pulled down front on the flat, started to get my floor Jack out, a few of the young guys came over and told me to go have a cold one you old fart, we will take care of this.   I can't say they looked like Dale Jarret s pit crew, but they got the four wheels changed in short order.   ( I was happy ) After they were done junior was looking at that tire with the blowout.   He said maybe I should take that tire to Firestone ( never can know ) Maybe get a new tire or some money off a new one, Also said Firestone had a big recall on certain tires, it may be over?

After getting home and unloading all my hunting gear; I took a ride out to the Firestone store .   The manager was standing at the counter and wanted to know what he could help me with?   I told him not sure if anything, but I would like to show him a tire with the sidewall that blew out, and to see what they could do if anything?   This is where it really gets good.   He looked at the spare and took a glance at the ones that were on the Bronco, turn to me and asked me my name, And were the keys in the ignition, Then said have a seat in the waiting room, not another word, pulled it into the service bay, I had no idea what was going on?   45 minutes later he came pulling around front, came in told me they had to check to be sure they were on recall ; They replace all 4 tires with new ones, upgraded to boot.   The icing on the top was they put a new one on my spare.   He said no charge and have a great day!( Wow ) I could not wait till the next camp trip to show off my 5 brand new tires, never used, upgraded, raised white letters, Firestone tires!   All thanks to Knobber

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

(Lessons to learn)

Back in the summer of 1994, Scott, also known as "scooter", Adam, also known as "big A", and myself, went to camp for the weekend.   I had some outside chores to do; after getting the camp opened up, I got to the chores at hand.   The boys asked if I needed any help, I said no, big A asked if him and Scooter could take the Bronco and head over to the Hemlock camp, to see what they were into.

Back then big A was 15 and Scooter was 11.   I taught all the kids how to drive by the time they were 12 or 13 years old.   You (Never Can Know ) If one of them would have to drive if anything were to happen to me.   I told them OK, to go but I expected them to be back by 2 PM.   They said OK, thanks.   Before I was able to take another breath, they were in my Bronco and out the camp lane in a cloud of dust!   I got back to my chores and was working up a darn good lather, and a big old powerful thirst that would need to be quenched soon.   2 o'clock rolled around and there was no sign of either one of these boys or my Bronco.   What I needed to quench that powerful thirst was in the back of my Bronco on ice!   I gave them 30 more minutes.   I had no idea what happened to them, but I was sure going to find out?

The Hemlock camp is 3 quarters of a mile if you cut through the Woods, and about 2 miles by way of the winding road.   Figuring they would be on their way back soon, I set out to walk the road , parched and thirsty.   It took me a little better than an hour to make it to their camp lane.   I went down that camp lane like a runaway freight train!   Huffing, and puffing, steam coming out from under my caller and Sparks out of my ears.   Dam good thing that my leg brakes still worked, or I would have run over the whole bunch of them.   They were standing around with all the Hemlock guys, uncle Bud, uncle Joe, uncle Fred, Joey and John boy.   To see the fear in their eyes was priceless !   They knew they were in deep shit, I said you two know I like my beer on ice and out of my cooler, and you both know that I keep my cooler in the back of my Bronco, and here sets my Bronco at 3:30 when it was to be back to camp at 2.   So, tell me what the hell were you two thinking?   That’s when good old uncle Joe Came to their rescue.   He said big, have yourself a cold one and cool down , don't be too hard on the boys it's my fault.   I told them to stick around big Lee will not care not knowing your cooler was in the back of your Bronco .   Leaving a man at a camp without a vehicle And no cold beer, This is one of those camp rules that can't go unpunished !   Uncle Joe said I got these 2 boys into this mess and I will get them out of it.

Camp punishment would have to be handed out; a lesson needed to be taught.   Uncle Joe spoke up, he said I will take the punishment for them !   I said I was going to give them a good swift kick in their back side!   Uncle Joe said I will take that kick for them, I thought about it said alright , but I wanted to have scooter give the kick.   I told scooter that it had to be like he was going for a 50 yard field goal he said will do, Uncle joe bent over, scooter backed up a few steps, and got a good run, gave him a kick in the back side that would have made a 60 yard field goal with ease !   Uncle Joe sure was not expecting it to be so hard , him and Scooter were good buds back in the day!   After watching that kick, I was glad I picked Scooter, if Big A would have delivered that kick Uncle Joe would have landed somewhere in Clearfield county.   Lesson learned good buds always half to have each other’s back!

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

This story is about two of our good friends that like to come to camp to eat, drink and just kick back.   Charlie D.   and Marc S.   Charlie is a good old boy that was transplanted here from Tennessee back in 1972.   He is now a local fella that lives over at Pine Glen.   He still has that Tennessee accent, with a great sense of humor and a great big appetite.   Back in those days he ran a big old drag line in the strippings, around Pottersdale and Cataract.

Marc is one of many, brothers in law of mine, I have six sisters.   Now Marc is a certified yuppie!   He wears loafers with no socks, shorts, khaki pants, sports shirts with some kind of fancy logo, He always looks like he's going golfing even when he's not.   He also likes fancy cars and smokes them there high end cigars.   We hold nothing against yuppies, some of our best friends are yuppies (John boy) they are just a bit different.   Yuppie or not Marc can drink beer, tell jokes and bust balls as good or better than us rednecks.

Marc and two of his yuppie friends came to camp one weekend.   When they pulled into camp, they were driving a fancy Volvo, and sure enough when the three of them climbed out they all looked like they were going on a golf outing.   Quite the contrast, we mostly wear camouflage and boots.   After everyone got out an introduced to each other, we checked out the Volvo it had all the bells and whistles.   That fella that owned it was bragging it up, said it was so safe that it could withstand any crash, had the best ride, how fast it would go!   After finally getting the subject changed, I told those fellas to put some going to town clothes on (blue jeans) we were going to town for some eats and a few beers.   We were headed for a red neck bar.

We took his Volvo and my Bronco, yuppies in the Volvo and the camp guys in my Bronco.   After getting our bellies filled and downing a few cold ones we were ready to head back to camp.   I told Marc that on the way back to follow me into the strippings, we would stop and see Charlie, he was working that night.   We pulled into the strippings getting close to the dragline, it was dark out, but Charlie could see us coming in and where we parked.   Now before anyone could get out, he swung that big boom and bucket towards us and if that wasn't scary enough, he dropped that bucket about 3 feet from that Volvo with a bang!   I knew Charlie was messing with us, but I could tell when those yuppies got out of that Volvo, they were little shaken!   It looked to me that a change of underwear might be in order!   The owner of that Volvo said, I don't think all those built-in safety features would have done much good had that bucket been a few feet closer.   Even with all that speed that Volvo it would not have been fast enough to get out of the way as fast as Charlie swung it around and dropped it.

Charlie climbed down off that drag, he came over and asked with that long drawn out Tennessee accent with a big old smile, how you fellas doing?   He knew he scared the be Jesus out of them!   Everyone had a good laugh, then Charlie took those fellows up in the drag with him and showed them how he ran it.   We headed back to camp, had a few more cold ones, and called it a night.   The next morning as I was cooking breakfast, Charlie and his son Brandon came pulling in with that big old appetite of his, and his crazy ass dog Harley.   Don't know how but Charlie always knew what time breakfast would be served.   We had a good breakfast, the yuppies packed it up, Harley that crazy ass dog pissed all over my hunting boots!   Charlie yelled but that crazy ass dog did not give a rat’s ass it was kind of funny that is, after I got done being pissed!   He must have smelled some kind of scent I stepped on.   Rack up another great week end!

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

Trout season at camp is always a welcoming time after a long cold winter.   The first day was always all about the kids.   Our camp, the Hemlock camp, and quite a few of our friends with kids would come up and camp out with us over on Jerry Run.   We would have a gang of 15 or more.

Jerry Run is a small but well stocked stream that runs for about 7 miles from the top of Jerry to where it empties into the Sinnemahoning Creek.

The whole lot of us would take off work the Friday before the first day.   We consider it a national holiday!   Loaded with all our gear, rods, bait, food, and plenty of extra clothes and shoes.   Falling into the creek for the kids is a rite of passage; Baptism by trout water.   We would get to pitching a few tents, setup some cooking grills, gather up firewood and get the camp fire started.   By this time, the kids would be filled with anticipation!   Camping, fishing, camp fire, and being out in the big woods was a thrill.

The old guys got to sit around the fire, drink ice cold adult beverages, eat, and catch up when they weren't putting on hooks, untangling a line, changing wet clothes, or whatever else the young ones would get into.

One of our old friends Al Byrd from the Hemlock would always be there.   I'm not sure whether he was appointed or volunteered to be in charge of the kids but he loved it either way.   He was quite the naturalist and he loved teaching and being able to answer questions about anything to do with nature.   He also would have a few words of wisdom and whatever it was, it was gospel to them.   One of the things he taught that they thought was so cool was how to heat rocks, wrap them in old newspaper, and then put them in their sleeping bags to keep them toasty warm most of the night.

Now to the corn caper.   I suppose it's safe to tell this caper from the 70's and 80's now that the statutes of limitations would now apply.   We "cheated" just a bit.   We thought it was pretty harmless, just wanted to have the kids catch a fish or two.

After the stream was stocked, usually a few weeks before opening day, we would stop over a few times and put corn in the holes around our camp area.   For one of our trips, I was in charge of getting the canned corn.   Well, I got the corner okay but I grabbed creamed corn instead!   It does not work!   It just floats on top and goes down stream.   I took a ribbing for that one even to this day.

When the kids hit those holes using corn for bait, they had a chance to pull out one of those stockies.   We just gave them a little edge, it always worked!   By keeping it simple, the kids ranging from ages 6-16 would stay interested.   It was really a big deal to be able to fish by themselves and with their friends and a little help from dad when needed.   It was so cool to be able to keep an eye on them while sitting at the camp fire.   Old Al would be patrolling the stream, the kids were in good hands.

No matter the weather, a great time would be had by all!   It's sad to think these days are in the past.

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

(Time to start thinking and dreaming of those long beard, spring gobblers, it'll be here soon!)

When at the Never Can Know Camp, you just never can know what you may see.   Old Joe G was in the camp and we were out on a little road trip to check out some of our favorite spots.   We were back on McCloskey Road and headed for the log landing when Joe said "take a look over there in the high weeds, it looks like someone crippled up a turkey".   It was flopping around and trying to get off the ground.

We parked and went to take a closer look.   After getting closer, it turned out to be a turkey buzzard and it had a coyote trap clamped on one of its legs with about a 3-foot chain hanging off it.   The buzzard kept trying to get off the ground.   It would make it up a few feet and then fall back down.   We figured it must have gotten caught; then after the chain came loose, or broke, it flew till it couldn't go any farther and made it to here.

We watched it for a little while, trying to figure out what to do.   It was getting weaker and weaker.   A few minutes later it fell to the ground and did not move, just laid there.   It looked dead for sure.   Old Joe told me to grab a pair of gloves and we would take the trap off and put an old towel around it then.

I picked up that ugly ass buzzard, it never made a move, it's eyes were closed; it looked grave yard dead.   Well, I held the bird and Joe removed the trap.   So, there I am holding the big old buzzard.   I asked Joe "what now?".   He said "give it a flip in the air, you never can know".   I gave it a toss in the air and to our amazement, it took flight.   For real, all true!   Unbelievable!

We got back to camp and told the story.   However, at the end, I couldn't hold myself together.   I had to put some cool whip on the story by telling the guys that after it took flight, it circled us a few times and tipped its wing to us before flying off.

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

P.S.   Maybe I should send this off to the Nation Audubon Society? I could get a reward for the rescue?

It happens every time when walking back to camp or driving down the camp lane after a long afternoon hunt.   When seeing that camp porch light on, you know how good life can be!

You just know that all the great things about being at camp are just inside the cabin door.   A warm, dry camp, the smell of the wood burner, maybe something cooking in the oven, or some fresh baked bread, getting out of your boots and hunting clothes to stand by the wood burner for a few minutes to chase that chill away.   Grab a cold beer, hot coffee, or maybe a glass of apple cider or whatever else trips your trigger.

If anyone else is at camp, it's not long till I hear "what's for supper?" and "what time are we eating?" (cookie) (That would be uncle Ray)

The camp cook gets busy (that'd be me).   Then the conversation turns to how everyone did, what they saw, and all the details.   Excuses and a few white lies, I'm sure.

After a good hot supper, a few night caps for any of the young guns that may be in.   After a little more conversation, the young guns are usually off to visit other camps where there are no old guys that go to bed at 9:30.   Next to the last porch light, thought is that nice warm bed with flannel sheets and a few warm blankets.   The last thought is to be sure that the porch light is on to welcome back the boys.   Up the wooden hill we go.   That's what the stairs up to the bedroom were called back in my day.

Big Lee and the Spirit of the Big Woods

Never Can Know Camp

It was mid January 1981 and there was nothing going on.   It was cold and there was snow up to the old wazoo, well over a foot.   After a few phone calls, the camp guys: Ray, Bud, Al, Byrd, myself, and a few others, thought it would be a perfect weekend to take all the boys to camp.   The old guys could drink beer and shoot the bull.   The boys including Bob, Lee Jr, Joey, and friends, could play in the snow.

I kept an old Arctic Cat snowmobile at camp for the kids to use and let me tell you, they had more fun with that thing than a pig in mud.   They would take turns driving it and pulling around as many sleds as they would be able to tie on and drag.   They would also sled ride down the hills then use the Arctic Cat to pull them back up.   Back Hill Road was one of their favorite spots!   Back in those days, there was no winter maintenance; the roads were never treated or plowed.

We were all over at the old Hemlock camp drinking those good cold beers; it may have been old and rough, but it was always nice and warm!   If that little two room camp could talk, what tales it would tell!   After a little while, we got up off our butts and went to watch the kids playing in the snow and riding the Arctic Cat up and down the camp lane.

Well, let me tell you, that’s when we had some action, thanks to Uncle Ray!   He goes by Big Mac / Harry; we'll go with Big Mac.   He said he’d like to take the Arctic Cat for a ride.   I said “sure”, he must not have ridden it as needed, a refresher course.   I remember him asking how to run it.   I showed him the throttle and said “that’s all you need to go”.   He asked “how do you stop it?”.   The brakes didn’t work.   They never did.   I didn’t think they were needed!   All you had to do was leave off the throttle and it would slow down and then come to a stop in about 25 feet.

After explaining the no brake system, Big Mac was off.   He went for a ride.   He must have figured he had that Arctic Cat mastered.   It may have been old, but it ran like a bat out of hell!   Well, there he came flying down the camp lane headed for the camp!   He had the pedal to the metal and must have forgotten about the brakes!   We were all yelling at him to let off the gas and trying to scramble to get out of the way.   He never heard us.   He hit the corner of the cabin then slid into the ditch.   His eyes were the size of silver dollars!   Old Al Byrd said “now that’s a Kodak Moment”.   We brushed the snow off of him and he was okay.

After a good laugh, we checked the Arctic Cat out.   One of the skies was broken in half.   I had to tell the kids they could not run it like that.   I was afraid it would flip over.   They were heartbroken.   Now, back in those days, I was a hard ass and told them to suck it up and deal with it.   It did not take long until I felt bad.   I went back outside and took it for a ride to see if maybe it could still be run.

Now, here’s where the spirit of the Big Woods comes in, or just plain luck.   I’m going with the Big Woods Spirit!   I went up the camp lane, hung a right turn onto Back Hill Road.   I stopped to look at it, when here came a welding truck from the New Garden Strip job down the hill.   He stopped to say “hello” and to make sure I was okay.   When I had told him about the ski and the kids, he got out of the truck and said “let me take a looksie”.   Then he said “why, hell man, I can fix that right up!”.   He fired up his welder, grabbed a few welding rods and 5 minutes later it was as good as new.   I tried to give him some money but he said "no way, just take it back and let them kids have at it.   A handshake will do."   That’s just how folks were back in them days!

I pulled back down the camp lane.   I hadn’t been gone for more than 20 minutes.   After parking, I gave a yell for everyone to come outside.   I showed them the ski was fixed and the boys could ride again.   Everyone was mystified how I did it!

I kept them guessing most of the day.   We got back to drinking cold beverages.   The boys went back to doing what boys would do with a snowmobile; whatever that would have been.   Somethings we just don’t need to know.

Later that night, I did fess up and tell them I did it with the help of the Big Woods Spirit!

It was just another great weekend, so many!

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

How it came to be, and about the ghost of Spook Hill in NW Clinton County.   Still, after 250 years, the ghost of Pierre Tusseau can be seen and heard when traveling the Keating Potterdale Road at Spook Hill.   Usually at the bridge over Big Birch creek.

This tale was passed along to me from a few old timers.   One was old Norman Lucas that had the Crows Foot camp.   There was not much about this old mountain that old Norm didn't know about.   Sadly, Norm and his camp are both gone now.   I also heard the same tale from old Charlie who had a saw mill years ago on Back Hill Road near Poker Hill.   He and the saw mill are also gone.   Both said they had a few scary encounters with that ghost; all when driving from Keating and trying to get across the bridge to go up Spook Hill.

As it was told to me back in the mid 1750's, a black French Canadian trapper by the name of Pierre Tussean trapped his way down from Canada to Keating, then up the west branch of the Susquehanna river to what now is known as Big and Little Birch.

After scouting the area and seeing lots of signs, trails, and game along the two creeks, he decided to build a camp on the Big Hill that comes up from Big Birch Creek heading towards Little Birch.   He would be able to trap and hunt both creeks from here.   This trail is now known as Keating Potterdale Road.

Now, at the same time, there were some white English trappers that were trapping up the Sinnemahoning Creek to what is known as Round Island.   After years of war between the two countries, we know that the French and English did not get along.   Not to mention, Pierre was a black man.   The English called black folks, back in those days, "spooks".   And so they came to call the big hill from the creek to Pierre's camp "Spook Hill".

In late spring every year, all the trappers would load up their canoes and float down to Lock Haven to rendezvous and sell or trade what they trapped and shot over the winter.   As it goes, Pierre was much more experienced, just a better trapper, and the Big Birch area was virgin which had never been trapped before.   He would outdo the English every spring!   This made the bad blood between them even worse!   Pierre was not in need of much supplies.   Being a loner, which meant that he would have a fair amount of cash left after buying his supplies for the upcoming winter.

The jealousy and greed was taking its toll.   After about five years of this, the English just couldn't stand by as Pierre's belts and furs would bring in a handsome amount of money, much more than theirs.

So they came up with a plan to steal his money and scare him out of the Keating area.   The plan was when the first full moon in July came up, they would be able to see at night and begin their attack.   They would dress up like the Munsse Indians of the Iroquois tribe, that lived in the Keating area, sneak over from Round Island using the trail over to where Sand Rock and Birch meet.   Then they would sneak down Birch and up the hill behind were Pierre had his camp.   They then would run in yelling and screaming like a party of wild Indians hoping to scare him down Spook Hill to the trail that led back to the river where he kept his canoe.   Everything went as planned until Pierre was running across the creek.   He slipped and fell, smashing and splitting his head on the rock.   The English could hear him screaming in pain!   When they went down to the creek, they found him dead with blood everywhere.   It would have been a very painful death.

They had to come up with another plan.   Pierre was carried back up the side of the big hill where the red brush and laurel was thick.   The English buried him there making sure he would not be found.   Once they had this dirty deed done, they searched for his Spanish coins that he had saved.   They figured he would have put them in a small burlap sack and buried it near the camp site.   They searched most of the night and much of the next day; it wasn't found.

Frustrated, they burned the camp down thinking if anyone would come looking for Pierre, the Indians would be blamed.   No one ever did come looking for him.   So, his spirit now wanders and haunts the Birch area waiting for someone to find him and to keep anyone from going up to find his Spanish silver.

A short time after his death, the population was growing and a bridge was built at the exact spot where Pierre died.   In those days, bridges were built of wood.   It burned to ashes shortly after and all the wood replacements to come, would go up in flames.   The ghost of Pierre was always blamed?

The last wooden bridge burned was replaced by a concrete one that will not burn.   Now Pierre gets no rest, like he would get, while waiting for the next wood replacement to be built.   This is maybe why it seems Pierre is seen and heard more often these days.   As far as I know, Pierre or his silver have never been found.

I have talked to a few of the camp owners that are near the hill.   They all say they have heard and seen the ghost.   I, myself, have heard what I thought were ghostly sounds at the bridge, many times, on my way over to visit the guys at the N.F.C (Never Forgotten Camp) up Birch Island Road.   The bridge is halfway; I always stop there for a pee call.   I heard the screams and cries many times.   These sounds were not from any animal.   It would put chills up your back!   So, some say it could be a bobcat, owl, or a coyote.   I know these sounds and the ghostly screams are not them!   If you hear them once, you will never forget the pain in those screams.   If there is any doubt, just go to the bridge at night and hang out.   Good Luck.

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

I got a call from one of my camp buds, Joe, from over at the Never Forgotten camp on Birch Island Road.   He said he was taking a friend of his, Ron, and Ron's two young sons, Evan (13) and Jarod (10) to do a little spring turkey hunting and trout fishing at camp.

Joe is also known as Big Country/Towny/Knobber.   For this story, we'll call him Towny.   The coyote boys hung that one on him.   He asked me to go along to help entertain the boys; it’s one of the things I am good at, so I’m told.   Kids take a shine to me, old folks and dogs warm up to me, but not so much for the middle-aged people.   So, I told him "sure, count me in, sounds like fun."

We got to camp on Friday afternoon.   Ron’s oldest boy Evan was planning to go out in the morning for the spring gobbler (youth hunt).   Towny was taking him to hunt and Ron was going to watch.   We had to get our butts in gear.   We wanted to get over before dark to check out one of Towny’s secret spots.

I gave the boys the old "Chop-Chop, let’s get to it.   We need to get our gear put away and get the cooler ready to go".   Emphasizing how important it was to have the cooler well stocked!   When you’re on this old mountain, you develop a powerful thirst that only an ice-cold beverage (Bud, Millers, Coors) can quench.   A lesson to learn young, being parched and being more than 5 minutes from camp is not acceptable.

Now about the Rain Man.   We were getting ready to head out when, for the first time, I heard Ron say "it looks a little dark, it could rain".   The first of many rain warnings from Ron!   So off we went.   I was joking around with the boys that we would have to blind fold them, that’s how secret the spot was.   We got there and the first thing that came out of Ron’s mouth was "sure, hope we don’t get stuck in the rain".   Checked the spot, lots of fresh scraping, looked good.   Back to the truck we cracked open an ice-cold beverage.   The boys had a soda.   Before pulling out Ron said "we got lucky and dodged the rain".

Back at camp we had a few cold beverages.   Soda and snacks for the boys.   Listened to a few of Townies turkey tales, he sure can slobber out a bib full when talking turkey!

Ron came back from using the outhouse and says "sure hope it doesn't rain in the morning".   After dinner, and a night cap, we were off to bed; 4 AM comes early.   We got up in the morning and were having a cup of Townies coffee known as Roof Patch.   His dad, Bud, taught him well!   Ron walked outside to see if it was raining.   He came back in and said "no rain, but it sure feels like it’s coming".   Towny looked at me and I looked at him and said "wow, he sure is obsessed with rain".

Off they went to the secret spot.   They made it back to camp at noon as they had no luck.   They heard a few but they were too far out and they couldn’t call any in.   We had lunch.   Ron chimed in saying "at least they didn’t get wet".   We had a good camp lunch and we were going to go fishing.   Almost ready to go, Ron tells the boys to grab rain gear; still looks a little like rain.   We took two vehicles, Ron and Towny in one, Evan, Jarod, and me in my Manly Man, all wheel drive, Astro Van!   Many stories to come about that van.   I let the boys do all the driving, they had a blast.   The boys had some luck and caught a few.

Back to camp, wouldn’t you know, when they were packing up, Ron says "sure hope I don’t have to drive home in the rain".   I could not help myself, I said "listen here Rain Man!   Forget about that rain cloud hanging over your head and let in the sunshine!"

And that’s how the Rain Man came to be!   Ron was a real good sport about it.   The boys told me it was one of their best weekends ever!

It was a great weekend and it never did rain!

Big Lee

Never Can Know Camp

This camp story has never been told until now.   I would like to pass it along about how I came to believe in the Spirit of the Big Woods.

It started out on a beautiful early fall day back in the late 70's.   A bunch of us were at camp getting ready for the upcoming season!    We were over visiting the guys from the old Hemlock Camp, so I gave a yell and asked if anyone wanted to go check out some new territory.    Junior, Ray, Bob, and I were new to the big woods, but the guys from Hemlock Camp had been around for awhile.   We loaded up the cooler with beer, soda, and snacks and got ready for a camp road trip.   Me, Ray, Bud, Bob, Leroy and Joey piled into my old '62 green jeep utility wagon and we were off.

We went up Sandrock Road to the end; at Dutchman Road we crossed over and headed down Dark Hollow.   We had no idea where it went but we were going to find out.   We had no maps and were just winging it, half the fun was not knowing where we were going or where we would wind up!   We were about to find out there were three camps back there on the road, trail, cow path, goat trial or the road from hell; if you were trying to get out of hell look for another way!   There was one camp on the right, one on the left, and one at the end of the dead end trail.   As we were nearing the last camp - Camp 1035 - I started getting a funny, weird, feeling like I had been here before.   Just about then, we came upon a cross made up of heavy steel alongside the road so we stopped and checked it out.   Someone, a pretty good welder, welded "Geo. M. Gibson died here Nov. 19, 1949, age 68, Johnstown, PA".

I was born in 1949 and the more I looked at that cross, those feelings I had were growing stronger.   I said nothing to the guys, I would have taken a real ball busting that day.   We went on down and looked around the camp.   Camp 1035 was well kept and maintained; these fellows were lucky to have a camp here but not so lucky to have to drive back to it!   Going past that cross on the way out, I got that same feeling.   I got to thinking he died in 1949 and I was born 1949 so I was wondering to myself if that was a coincidence, reincarnation, ghost, or the spirit of the big woods which I believe in.   When you're setting out in the woods alone, and when nobody else is around, you can just feel it.   I did not know Geo. but I just think he must have loved the big woods and if he was going to pass - this spot would be as good as it gets!   He may be hanging out with the Big Woods Spirit and if so, maybe if I am lucky, I will meet up with him and talk things over.

Now, even to this day, without any of the guys knowing, I always take a walk back each year to check it out.   I spend a lot of time at camp by myself and it is easy doing this walk with nobody knowing, always early fall.

I am hoping that this is true and I wind up hanging out with the Big Woods Spirit.   I may be able to keep an eye on our camp and pay a few visits to the kids and grand kids when they are sitting around the camp fire or out in a deer stand enjoying life.   Maybe I will pop in and give them a little scare and something to think about.

Respect the Big Woods!
P.S. Some of the old camp guys that loved the big woods as much as me might be hanging out with the Big Woods Spirit now.   It would be great to hang with the old boys again (Albert, Bud, Tony, and a bunch of others).

One afternoon I stopped at Fisher's Tavern in Karthaus for a sandwich and a beer; it's where the old Ring Rock Hotel used to stand.   The Ring Rock burned down back in 1979 and it is now called the River Front Tavern.

While waiting, an older fellow with white hair and using a cane came in.   He looked to be in his mid 80's.   As the old boy was walking through, he was stopping at each table and saying "Hello, how are you doing?" with a big old smile!

When he made it to where I was sitting, he had that big smile and "Hello, how are you doing?" for me.   I shook his hand and said I'm having a cold beer and good eats so it's a good day.   I said it looks like you are having a good day yourself.   "No", he said, "I'm having a Holiday!".   Well I was a little confused because it wasn't a holiday as far as I knew.   Then he said "I best let you know how I look at each day. As time goes by and you get a little older you'll understand what I'm saying and something you may want to remember when you wake up in the morning". I believe there are only two kinds of days - Good Days and Holidays.   Now a good day is when you wake up in the morning and a holiday is when you wake up and feel good; I woke up and felt good so I am having myself a holiday!   Before he headed to the next table he said - you do get one bad day but you need not worry much about that because that's the day you don't wake up!  With that said, he moved on.

It was a beautiful fall morning in October 1984.   Junior and I were at camp and we got up early and had a good camp breakfast of pancakes and sausage.   I was in a bit of a hurry and the first pancake was a little runny for Junior (that's another story).   After that, they were good.   After breakfast, we headed out to do a little squirrel hunting.   We had seen quite a few bushy tails over at the beaver ponds, down off Haul Road (strippings); there were a lot of grapes and acorns.   The beavers had quite a few trees down; they were building quite a big hut.   They sure were busy, winter wasn't too far off!

Well, to get to the story, we got all set up back by a blow down - it was looking to be a great day!   There was a lot of chatter and we were seeing a few, but out of range.   Junior was using his Winchester Youth Model 20 gauge, I had a 22.   Then a beaver came swimming out of the pond headed to a tree about 20 yards from us and started gnawing on it.   I whispered "wow, it doesn't get any better than this" - wrong!   Off to our left we got a flash of a coyote making a B-line, at a full run, to the beaver.   The next thing we know, they were rolling on the ground!   Blood was flying, snarling and growling - that beaver was giving it back!   Junior whispered "wow, what should we do?".   I told him to get ready and if they separate a little to shoot the coyote.   He got his chance and shot 3 quick ones!   The first nailed him in the head, the other 2 were to make sure.   The beaver was bloodied up but made it back to the pond.   After all that noise and confusion, I looked up to the top of that same tree and there was a black squirrel taking it all in!   Junior's gun was empty so I shot it with the 22.   We gathered up the coyote and the squirrel and couldn't wait to get back to camp and tell our story!

The story doesn't end there - the next time I was down by the pond, I saw that the beaver had that tree down and most of the limbs dragged off to the hut.   I had to do something to remember that day, so I got my chainsaw and cut a piece of that tree and made this lamp!

And that is the legend of the lamp!