Post by grandpawrichard on Jan 1, 2009 2:45:53 GMT -5
A Redneck takes a bunch of Hippies camping
Quite a few years ago my wife’s brother came back to Washington State on vacation. He had been living in San Francisco California.
When he arrived in his VW Micro-bus he had his new wife, his best friend, his best friend’s girlfriend and a dog with him. We had never met his wife, best friend, nor the dog. They all were sporting Long Hair and looked like a bunch of Hippies.
I, on the other hand had just been to the Barbershop for a Good Old Fashioned, Short Summer Haircut that made me look like a real, honest to goodness Redneck. The instant that my Brother-in-law’s friends and wife saw me they were convinced that I truly was a redneck. Of course, I let them think what they may and I reinforced their beliefs every chance I could. Especially since I considered them a bunch of San Francisco Hippies!
We were constantly picking on each other and calling each other names like Redneck or Hippy. We got along quite well together, but somehow I felt that I was not totally trusted. I guess it was due to my comments like “somebody ought to declare an Open Season on Hippies and put a 50 cent bounty on them!” Or “the Only Good Hippy is a Dead Hippy!” I guess they just misunderstood my sense of humor, or they were always in a habit of misjudging people from Washington State. For some reason they refused to play Mumbley Peg with me, every time I pulled out my 10 inch hunting knife and asked them to play they always came up with excuses like “I have to help with the Laundry, cooking, dishes” or some other stupid reason.
We had a blast together, we went sight seeing, fishing, clam digging, crabbing and even a little gold panning. On one of our fishing trips we came up with the bright idea to go up to Grandy Lake to Camp and fish. We loaded up their VW Micro-bus, my old Ford Van, hooked on my boat trailer and loaded the boat down with firewood, etc. and off we went on our merry way.
We finally arrived up at Grandy Lake, (which by the way is in the Heart of Redneck country) and we set up camp in a primitive spot that was located back in the brush at the west end of the lake. It had a little, narrow gravel road leading to it from the main camping area. We had lots of room and a lot of privacy in that spot, so we could enjoy ourselves without bothering anyone. Best of all, there was a nice little beach there for the kids to wade and where I could beach my boat.
We sat around camp that evening enjoying our new camping spot and each other’s company. About 10 p.m. I decided to go to bed so that I could get up at dawn to go out fishing so I could catch our breakfast. So, off to bed I headed, leaving the Hippies to themselves to do whatever hippies do when they are alone.
At dawn the next morning I had already been up, started the fire, made a fresh pot of coffee for myself and I was already part way out into the lake before I fired up the outboard motor. A short run down the lake took me to a promising spot where I could tie up the boat and start fishing. The fish were jumping all over the place around those pilings, so I just knew it was going to be a good morning to easily catch my limit of fish.
There I sat, catching fish, drinking coffee and enjoying the wonderful feel of a warm morning sun on my back. Pretty soon I started to get a little sleepy, so I put my fishing rod in the pole holder, and I turned sideways in the boat so that I could lay back on the seat of the boat and hang my legs over the side. It was only a matter of a couple of minutes before I was off to dreamland and sawing logs.
I don’t really know how long I had been asleep before I was awakened by an odd sound. You all know how a dog sounds when it is swimming in the water with a stick in his mouth, well; that’s the noise I heard. I thought to myself, “that darned Hippy let his dog out and it is swimming to the boat!”
Well, I sat up turned around and was going to yell at the dog to get back to camp; but it wasn’t the dog! I didn’t know what kind of animal it was, but it was swimming right to my boat and it had HUGE Teeth! In the blink of an eye I was up from my laying position, to the back of the boat and I pull started the outboard motor. I threw the mot0or in reverse to back out of the pilings, but the boat would not move, no matter how much throttle I gave it!
Well DUH! I remembered that I had tied the bow to the pilings. I was not about to sit around trying to untie the boat while this big critter came aboard, so I whipped out my hunting knife and with one quick stroke of the blade cut through the rope. Then I jumped back to the motor and put her in reverse at near full throttle! Then I had to make a quick grab for my fishing rod that I had forgotten. Too late, the line had snapped off thank goodness!
I quickly distanced myself form the creature, so it turned and started swimming towards the other shore. That’s when I decided that I was mad and going to make that critter pay, so I started chasing it with the boat (but staying a safe distance away, just in case)and I chased him all the way to shore.
When he got to shore I got to see just how big that critter was and the hair on my redneck raised up. He was darned good sized and he looked like he was just a little peeved at me for chasing him! He stood his ground and made a half hiss, half growl at me. I figured it was time to make a hasty retreat and go back to camp for some fresh coffee.
At shore I told everyone about my adventure and was the brunt of snide comments and jokes, but what the heck; us country boys can take it. I don’t think anyone believed me until I told my story to a Game Warden that stopped by our camp to check my limit of fish. He listened I earnest to my tale and then slowly and seriously issued us a warning.
The critter that I had seen was not a figment of my imagination! What I had seen was an adult Wolverine that had been spotted in the lake vicinity for about two weeks. It was believed to have migrated down from Canada. The Game Warden warned us that Wolverines were tenacious and Ornery critters that derive joy from just killing animals for sport, and that they seem to enjoy tearing campsites up as well. So we were to be extremely careful, or better yet, just go to another lake to fish and camp.
Well folks, there ain’t No critter that is going to ruin my camping and fishing! After the Game Warden left I told everyone about my plan. We were going to town and I was bringing back my guns! If that sucker came back he was going to have to deal with my, my 308, my 12 gauge and a 357 magnum! If he was good enough to get passed all that artillery then he deserved to have the camp all to himself! My wife’s brother even armed himself with an antique tube fed 22 rifle!
That critter was around our camp for several nights, we could tell because the Hippy dog would raise a fuss whining and whimpering to get inside the Micro-bus with his owner. So every night I stayed up until wee hours of the morning popping off a few round out of the 22 rifle.
One night I got so tired that I just had to go to bed in the tent. So I laid down in my sleeping bag with my head propped up with pillows and the shotgun right beside me. I didn’t sleep well that night, but about 4 a.m. I heard my brother-in-law get out of bed and rekindle the fire. Soon I smelled the fresh coffee and heard him talking in a low voice to someone; so I drifted off to sleep.
About 3 hours later I woke up to the smell of fish frying, so I knew it was time to drag my tired rear end out of bed. When I crawled out of the tent I saw a straggly, mangy mutt trying to get into our food box. I jumped up, yelled at him and chased him out of camp. Then I went to sit down to have breakfast and a cup of coffee.
Pretty soon that mangy mutt was back in our camp and trying to get into the food box again. Again I yelled and chased him out of camp, but within minutes he was back again! I had enough of that bag of bones! I went to the tent, grabbed my 12 gauge with Double 00 buck shot and chased him toward the little dirt road. When I figured he was a safe distance ahead of me I aimed at the gravel road behind him and touched off the shotgun.
That’s when all hell broke loose! From across the main road I heard a yell “Jeezus! You almost shot my damned head off!” Down the road on a dead run went a long haired Hippy that I had never seen before, and right beside him was that mangy dog on a dead run!
My brother-in-law and his buddy came running up from the lake and gave me hell for shooting. While I was asleep a Hippy had come walking by and they invited him for breakfast. He then borrowed a coffee can and walked down the road to a big patch of Blackberries. He was on the other side of them picking berries to go on our pancakes!
Needless to say, we never saw the Hippy or his dog again and I was in the doghouse with my wife, kids and everyone else in camp! I felt like an idiot, but I never let on to anyone that I felt that way! I just kept telling them that Hippy should have trained his dog better and that there would have been no loss if I had killed that lowlife hippy!
After that, my brother-in-laws buddy always kept his eye on me every time I went near the guns and he was really careful about what he said around me! I don’t think he trusted me any more! For the rest of our camping trip things were quiet around camp. The Wolverine even took off for parts unknown. I caught enough fish during that trip that everyone got tired of Trout fried in butter and baked trout!
As much as we hate to see things end when we are having fun, it wasn’t long before the San Francisco Hippies had to go back down to California due to their vacation ending. I hope they fondly remember the year a Redneck Took a Bunch of Hippies Camping!
For years later I would get a Redneck Christmas Card from my brother-in-laws buddy and he always asked me if I had shot any more Hippy dogs or Blackberry picking hippies. Sadly, after my Brother-in-law passed away I quit hearing from his buddy. I often wonder what ever became of him and if he had wandered into another Redneck’s Camp site!
(This story is a True Story! I might have embellished on the truth in a few little spots, but this incident Did happen; I swear to God on a Bible!)
Richard M. (dick) Raymond Jr.
Written December 31st. 2008
Quite a few years ago my wife’s brother came back to Washington State on vacation. He had been living in San Francisco California.
When he arrived in his VW Micro-bus he had his new wife, his best friend, his best friend’s girlfriend and a dog with him. We had never met his wife, best friend, nor the dog. They all were sporting Long Hair and looked like a bunch of Hippies.
I, on the other hand had just been to the Barbershop for a Good Old Fashioned, Short Summer Haircut that made me look like a real, honest to goodness Redneck. The instant that my Brother-in-law’s friends and wife saw me they were convinced that I truly was a redneck. Of course, I let them think what they may and I reinforced their beliefs every chance I could. Especially since I considered them a bunch of San Francisco Hippies!
We were constantly picking on each other and calling each other names like Redneck or Hippy. We got along quite well together, but somehow I felt that I was not totally trusted. I guess it was due to my comments like “somebody ought to declare an Open Season on Hippies and put a 50 cent bounty on them!” Or “the Only Good Hippy is a Dead Hippy!” I guess they just misunderstood my sense of humor, or they were always in a habit of misjudging people from Washington State. For some reason they refused to play Mumbley Peg with me, every time I pulled out my 10 inch hunting knife and asked them to play they always came up with excuses like “I have to help with the Laundry, cooking, dishes” or some other stupid reason.
We had a blast together, we went sight seeing, fishing, clam digging, crabbing and even a little gold panning. On one of our fishing trips we came up with the bright idea to go up to Grandy Lake to Camp and fish. We loaded up their VW Micro-bus, my old Ford Van, hooked on my boat trailer and loaded the boat down with firewood, etc. and off we went on our merry way.
We finally arrived up at Grandy Lake, (which by the way is in the Heart of Redneck country) and we set up camp in a primitive spot that was located back in the brush at the west end of the lake. It had a little, narrow gravel road leading to it from the main camping area. We had lots of room and a lot of privacy in that spot, so we could enjoy ourselves without bothering anyone. Best of all, there was a nice little beach there for the kids to wade and where I could beach my boat.
We sat around camp that evening enjoying our new camping spot and each other’s company. About 10 p.m. I decided to go to bed so that I could get up at dawn to go out fishing so I could catch our breakfast. So, off to bed I headed, leaving the Hippies to themselves to do whatever hippies do when they are alone.
At dawn the next morning I had already been up, started the fire, made a fresh pot of coffee for myself and I was already part way out into the lake before I fired up the outboard motor. A short run down the lake took me to a promising spot where I could tie up the boat and start fishing. The fish were jumping all over the place around those pilings, so I just knew it was going to be a good morning to easily catch my limit of fish.
There I sat, catching fish, drinking coffee and enjoying the wonderful feel of a warm morning sun on my back. Pretty soon I started to get a little sleepy, so I put my fishing rod in the pole holder, and I turned sideways in the boat so that I could lay back on the seat of the boat and hang my legs over the side. It was only a matter of a couple of minutes before I was off to dreamland and sawing logs.
I don’t really know how long I had been asleep before I was awakened by an odd sound. You all know how a dog sounds when it is swimming in the water with a stick in his mouth, well; that’s the noise I heard. I thought to myself, “that darned Hippy let his dog out and it is swimming to the boat!”
Well, I sat up turned around and was going to yell at the dog to get back to camp; but it wasn’t the dog! I didn’t know what kind of animal it was, but it was swimming right to my boat and it had HUGE Teeth! In the blink of an eye I was up from my laying position, to the back of the boat and I pull started the outboard motor. I threw the mot0or in reverse to back out of the pilings, but the boat would not move, no matter how much throttle I gave it!
Well DUH! I remembered that I had tied the bow to the pilings. I was not about to sit around trying to untie the boat while this big critter came aboard, so I whipped out my hunting knife and with one quick stroke of the blade cut through the rope. Then I jumped back to the motor and put her in reverse at near full throttle! Then I had to make a quick grab for my fishing rod that I had forgotten. Too late, the line had snapped off thank goodness!
I quickly distanced myself form the creature, so it turned and started swimming towards the other shore. That’s when I decided that I was mad and going to make that critter pay, so I started chasing it with the boat (but staying a safe distance away, just in case)and I chased him all the way to shore.
When he got to shore I got to see just how big that critter was and the hair on my redneck raised up. He was darned good sized and he looked like he was just a little peeved at me for chasing him! He stood his ground and made a half hiss, half growl at me. I figured it was time to make a hasty retreat and go back to camp for some fresh coffee.
At shore I told everyone about my adventure and was the brunt of snide comments and jokes, but what the heck; us country boys can take it. I don’t think anyone believed me until I told my story to a Game Warden that stopped by our camp to check my limit of fish. He listened I earnest to my tale and then slowly and seriously issued us a warning.
The critter that I had seen was not a figment of my imagination! What I had seen was an adult Wolverine that had been spotted in the lake vicinity for about two weeks. It was believed to have migrated down from Canada. The Game Warden warned us that Wolverines were tenacious and Ornery critters that derive joy from just killing animals for sport, and that they seem to enjoy tearing campsites up as well. So we were to be extremely careful, or better yet, just go to another lake to fish and camp.
Well folks, there ain’t No critter that is going to ruin my camping and fishing! After the Game Warden left I told everyone about my plan. We were going to town and I was bringing back my guns! If that sucker came back he was going to have to deal with my, my 308, my 12 gauge and a 357 magnum! If he was good enough to get passed all that artillery then he deserved to have the camp all to himself! My wife’s brother even armed himself with an antique tube fed 22 rifle!
That critter was around our camp for several nights, we could tell because the Hippy dog would raise a fuss whining and whimpering to get inside the Micro-bus with his owner. So every night I stayed up until wee hours of the morning popping off a few round out of the 22 rifle.
One night I got so tired that I just had to go to bed in the tent. So I laid down in my sleeping bag with my head propped up with pillows and the shotgun right beside me. I didn’t sleep well that night, but about 4 a.m. I heard my brother-in-law get out of bed and rekindle the fire. Soon I smelled the fresh coffee and heard him talking in a low voice to someone; so I drifted off to sleep.
About 3 hours later I woke up to the smell of fish frying, so I knew it was time to drag my tired rear end out of bed. When I crawled out of the tent I saw a straggly, mangy mutt trying to get into our food box. I jumped up, yelled at him and chased him out of camp. Then I went to sit down to have breakfast and a cup of coffee.
Pretty soon that mangy mutt was back in our camp and trying to get into the food box again. Again I yelled and chased him out of camp, but within minutes he was back again! I had enough of that bag of bones! I went to the tent, grabbed my 12 gauge with Double 00 buck shot and chased him toward the little dirt road. When I figured he was a safe distance ahead of me I aimed at the gravel road behind him and touched off the shotgun.
That’s when all hell broke loose! From across the main road I heard a yell “Jeezus! You almost shot my damned head off!” Down the road on a dead run went a long haired Hippy that I had never seen before, and right beside him was that mangy dog on a dead run!
My brother-in-law and his buddy came running up from the lake and gave me hell for shooting. While I was asleep a Hippy had come walking by and they invited him for breakfast. He then borrowed a coffee can and walked down the road to a big patch of Blackberries. He was on the other side of them picking berries to go on our pancakes!
Needless to say, we never saw the Hippy or his dog again and I was in the doghouse with my wife, kids and everyone else in camp! I felt like an idiot, but I never let on to anyone that I felt that way! I just kept telling them that Hippy should have trained his dog better and that there would have been no loss if I had killed that lowlife hippy!
After that, my brother-in-laws buddy always kept his eye on me every time I went near the guns and he was really careful about what he said around me! I don’t think he trusted me any more! For the rest of our camping trip things were quiet around camp. The Wolverine even took off for parts unknown. I caught enough fish during that trip that everyone got tired of Trout fried in butter and baked trout!
As much as we hate to see things end when we are having fun, it wasn’t long before the San Francisco Hippies had to go back down to California due to their vacation ending. I hope they fondly remember the year a Redneck Took a Bunch of Hippies Camping!
For years later I would get a Redneck Christmas Card from my brother-in-laws buddy and he always asked me if I had shot any more Hippy dogs or Blackberry picking hippies. Sadly, after my Brother-in-law passed away I quit hearing from his buddy. I often wonder what ever became of him and if he had wandered into another Redneck’s Camp site!
(This story is a True Story! I might have embellished on the truth in a few little spots, but this incident Did happen; I swear to God on a Bible!)
Richard M. (dick) Raymond Jr.
Written December 31st. 2008