Roaming Roads and Rippling Rivers

After a hectic week, when I’d passed my citizenship test, gained a Tree Steward course certificate, come second place with my Trivia Team, become a U.S. citizen, and then spent a couple of nights losing sleep and a vet visit with poor Malcolm having urinary issues, I was ready to spend time in the garden, catching up with overdue jobs. But I was actually quite relieved to wake up to rain falling, rendering any garden work unlikely, and so decided to take an overdue ‘me’ trip into the countryside and capture the fall foliage, which was peaking this weekend.

While the city folk leaf peepers drove the smooth tarmac roads along the Skline Drive to enjoy the foliage colors, I headed for the graveled and dusty back roads where I met less than a handful of the more adventurous explorers who had chosen to leave the paved roads. The morning’s rain had enhanced the leaf colors. I was surrounded with dark chocolate, rust, golden ochre, lemon yellow, aged raspberry wine, mellowed merlot red, corn husk yellow, and forest greens of firs, pines and cedars.

I stopped by a river, my car the only one in the lay by, and crossed the road to a track I’d spotted between the trees. The trail was muddy from the rain, but the air was crisp, fragrant with the damp earth and Mother Nature beginning the decomposition of fallen leaves.

Purple asters lined the trail, with green mosses on fallen trunks and between tree roots. The river was low after the summer’s drought, more rocks than usual jutting out of the water, and the flow of the river slower than I’d seen it before. The river had always cascaded noisily along its route, white caps surfing over the boulders, but today, it meandered around the obstacles, no froth or rivulets swirling along its path. I climbed down to the water’s edge to take photos, mindful of the slippery smooth surfaces of the rocks, still wet from the earlier rain, and if I’d felt more daring, I could have rock hopped from one bank to the other.

Back in the car, I continued along the valley and stopped at a few points, admiring the long shadows from the sun, that had now made an effort to break through the dark clouds and shine down, lighting up the trees and making their colors even more vibrant. The sun’s rays lit up the oranges, yellows and reds, the trees glowing as though aflame.

I left the valley road, and drove upwards into the mountains, the pavement giving way to dusty gravel where Stanley rumbled over washboard ruts that stretched across the road. Friendly locals waved from their homes, some from cars that they bent over and worked on, some sitting on front porches with a beer and chewing tobacco, slowly raising an arm as I trundled by. There was a quiet golden solitude up here, with chilly cool air, the cloudy haze that had hung low in pockets of the valley slowly evaporating in the sunshine. Squirrels leaped and jumped across the road in front of me, busy collecting black walnuts and acorns for their winter store, cheeks stuffed with their treasure.

I spent a couple of hours up on the mountains, meandering along narrow lanes, and passing no other vehicles, apart from a teenager on his ATV, also out for a ride, and enjoying this picturesque afternoon, just like me. I eventually began my descent into the valley, down a rutted switchback road, a steep drop on one side, with the mountain rising up high on the other. I came across a small community, where upon turning a corner, was startled by Jason from Friday the 13th, brandishing a knife, and initially appearing as though he was lurching towards my car. There were also witches hanging from trees, these folks obviously enjoyed Halloween. The next little town had some mystical people with gourd heads, which I admired, but also found a little unsettling.

And then I was back down to a river again, and low and behold, there was a winery on the other side. I stopped for a glass of wine, and chatted to a local environmental group, whose events I’d been to in the past. It had been a lovely relaxing day, and as I made my way home, I was thankful for the rain that morning, I hadn’t realized how much I needed some downtime. Garden jobs could resume after work on Monday.

Lessons and Life Skills from Homesteaders

My alarm went off at 5am and was accompanied by torrential rain pounding on the metal roof. I was going to a homesteading conference near home and wanted to be there early, but after hearing the relentless rain, I snuggled back down under the covers with Rosie Lee and Malcolm, and resumed snoozing. I emerged at 7am and jumped up, got ready quickly and drove to the fairgrounds, following a Cadillac SUV with Oklahoma plates, guessing correctly that our destination was the same. This conference was a national event, drawing people in from all over the USA. I'd heard about it last year a couple of days before the event, but all tickets had sold out months before, so I ensured, very early, that I had my ticket for this year. The Homesteaders of America conference has actually been running for 7 years, but for some strange reason it isn't advertised in town, so very few locals are aware of it. It's a 2 day event but since I had used up the last of my vacation time with COVID, I could only attend on Saturday, and not Friday.

I was apprehensive about parking in the grassy fields, concerned about getting stuck, but luck was on my side and I was directed to a nice level spot close to the gravel driveway. I had on my old hiking boots, guessing my feet would get very muddy and sniggered at seeing some teenagers negotiating a slippery slope in Birkenstocks and slides. Their feet were going to be very grubby. I wanted to finish my coffee and jot down a few notes so I headed towards a huge white tent where a talk was being held. It was on parenting. So unless this covered top tips for managing insolent cats it wasn’t going to help me. I drank my coffee and left to roam around the vendors while the rain held off. Rain and storms were forecast for all day yet we couldn’t be annoyed since we’re still struggling through a drought.

There were many vendors so I walked around some of those since they were all outside. Rain was forecast all day so I took advantage of this dry spell, thinking if it began to rain I could head for a tent. There were honey products, bee keeper supplies, arts and crafts, plants and seeds, clothing and jewelry, beauty products, all made from their raised animals or garden plants. I was very engrossed until I heard someone say, ''Quick, Darryl's doing a plant walk!'' I trotted over to a small group that were heading down a grassy slope behind the tents and pulled out my phone to take notes.

This was Darryl Patton, a famous herbalist, but I didn’t know that at the time. I’m always up for a walk with someone who’s an expert on plants, and Darryl didn’t disappoint. The first plant he pointed out was one everyone could identify. Dandelions are high in potassium. The root is great for heartburn, good for  the gall bladder and pancreas. But eat them young as they get bitter when they’re older. The flowers make a lovely yellow wine, or jelly, with great flavor. They’re also a diuretic which  replace any potassium it’s getting rid of, unlike Queen Anne’s lace. Queen Anne’s lace is great for gout as it breaks up crystals and flushes them out. The next ‘weed’ was English plantain. There’s a broadleaf plantain and a longleaf, both are English. They are a neutralizer of poisons and are great for fire ant bites and poison ivy. Better than jewel weed. Plaintain flowers are good for reducing bad cholesterol and a great fiber source. Add leaves to soups or casseroles like bouillon. They also contain allantoin, which relieves skin irritation, cuts and minor burns, and this is also found in comfrey. Tobacco also has it, as do maple and sycamore shoots. Juniper and cedar berries have white yeast on them. They make a great sour dough starter but remove the berries as soon as they bubble or it will be bitter. Any blue berries with white powder look can be used for this. The bark and leaves are also good for kidneys and bladder, you can make a tea with them. Hawthorn is good for high blood pressure and heart issues. Broad leaf bitter dock roots are high in iron and help the body utilize iron. And it makes a good cough syrup. Oxalis has a refrigerant quality in it to reduce fever so a tea can be made with it.

 I had no idea during the walk who this man was, but I was certainly impressed with his knowledge, and assumed, rightly, as I found out later, that it had taken him years to accumulate. He was a walking encyclopedia of plants and their uses. I was quite pleased with myself as I identified correctly all the plants he pointed out, and tapped furiously on my phone, taking as many notes as possible. Thoroughly appreciative with the abundance of information he’d given us, I thanked him profusely, and walked on to explore the grounds further.

.I passed an enclosure where there was a demonstration, with a sheepdog rounding up chickens and goats. I watched with amusement for a few minutes, then heard that Jill Ragan was about to give a talk on maximizing a small homestead. I sat down and listened to her story of building her business on an acre of land for vegetables and flowers, which she fed her family on, and also sold. She did have a huge tunnel greenhouse so I couldn’t really relate to that but she did give some useful tips, such as trellising her crops to better utilize space. And her advice to hard prune tomatoes to get 2 leader stems rather than the conventional 1 was enlightening. Removing lower tomato leaves and growing spinach, basil and lettuce underneath the remaining shading leaves, but only on interdeterminate tomatoes. Another great tip. A lot of her advice was really geared towards people with more land than my tiny plot, but I learned enough from her about plant care, soil amendment and seeds to buy her book.

I left promptly after her talk and trotted across the grounds to another huge tent, where I snaffled a front row seat. As we waited, I chatted to a lot of people, and some, like me, were first timers here, while others had been to all 7 conventions. I met folks from so many states, learning that Montana has 100 growing days only, so vegetable growing was a serious business for them, cramming the most into those few days. I enjoyed meeting likeminded people, and learned there are many other events across the country, similar to this.

This guy is Daniel Salatin, a farmer in Virginia, who as well as tending his land and animals, has written a pile of books, writes a column, features on podcasts and an award winning documentary. He has a wealth of information on farming, and is known for his speaking abilities. I was sorry I'd missed his talk, he had been chatting while I was listening to Jill, but I shall definitely listen to him next time.

But for me, the star of today was the next speaker. I'd scuttled quickly to score a first row seat in the tent, and waited for him to appear. When I had cable TV, I'd been a huge fan of the History channel program, Mountain Men, about survivalist men coping in hard terrains. My two favorites were Eustace Conway and Tom Oar, and today I was going to listen to 'A Candid Chat with Eustace'. 

He was uproariously funny. I had thought he was going to talk about Turtle Island Preserve, his home and a center for people to visit and learn outdoor survival skills, but instead he chatted about how we all need to get back to the land, back to the root. We are removed from the processes that support our survival. We rely on middlemen, we’re basically unable to fend for ourselves. Common sense and basic skills aren’t learned anymore, which is very true. An 18 year old today would have to work a lot harder to survive than one a few decades ago, since they don’t solve any problems for themselves anymore. One of his favorite stories is ‘the school bus’. Young kids are protected and cocooned on a bus, with all vehicles around them having to stop and give them priority. They disembark without a single precautionary look about them, encouraged to not think for themselves and leading them to become entitled. 

He also said that growing food yourself is a rewarding and more educational experience. It’s hard to obtain inner peace when you don’t know where what you’re dependent on is coming from. This convention, he referred to as the gathering of the tribe, to learn and help others understand, how to help yourself survive. The human spirit is horrifically hampered by todays society and economics.

Eustace lived in a teepee for 17 years, then built a wooden lodge. He lived off the grid for 42 years, so I guess he’s earned his inner peace. He’s gained a logical and sound perspective from viewing modern culture from the outside. He said the country needs a revolution to overthrow the government, as our rights are gradually being taken away from us. Freedom is not something you can beg another man for, it’s something you have to fight for yourself. He talked about being kind and giving to others. His example was that he washed his hands at friends house, his hands were already wet, so he cleaned the sink. He gave back a little bit. If we all did that, the world would be a better place. We all have different skills that can help us unite. He left us with a graffiti message he’d read that stayed with him: Reevaluate your basic assumptions.

The hour flew by, it had seemed like 5 minutes, and he received a thunderous applause. He had certainly given us a good deal to think about.

There were critters all around the site, looking in perfect contented condition, and obviously living a good life, getting plenty of cuddles and snoozes. I stroked some as I made my way around the vendors, and then came across the Turtle Island booth, where Eustace was carving a kitchen utensil from a cherry tree branch.

He split the branch lengthways, then removed the pith from middle as it’s too spongy to leave in the wood. Then using a draw knife that he’d made himself, and sitting on a shaving horse bench, which he’d also made, he carved and whittled, while telling us stories. Fox News appeared and filmed him chatting, and also having a dig at the government. It was going to be on TV that evening, but I didn’t see it.

I asked him afterwards if I could buy the utensil he’d just made, and he let me have it for $15, telling me it needed no care except to keep it dry and cool in a dark place, so the kitchen drawer would be ideal. I used it a few days later while cooking eggs and veggies. It worked perfectly.

I then went back to a tent where one of the final talks of the day was by Darryl Patton, who I’d done the plant walk with earlier. I got another front row seat, and the tent filled up. People had iPads, phones, notebooks and pens ready, to write notes or record him talking. And we had to be quick, he was a fast talker, a speedy dispenser of valuable information.

He launched into his lecture, and boy, did he talk rapidly. I barely looked up, my fingers were tapping away furiously. He told us that herbalism used to be part of everyday living, and folk just went to the woods to collect herbs; everyone was a herbalist. Wild lettuce is good for sleep. Eating watermelons and cantaloupe in winter is advised, as a chemical in them prevents summer pollen allergies. With the specific plants that cause your allergies, make a tincture with that plant and take small doses before the season. If you react to poison ivy, take a small leaf in spring, when it’s a brownish color. Pinch off with piece of bread, so your fingers don’t touch it, and  eat it. Do it every spring, and there’s a good chance that after a few seasons you won’t need to do it any longer as your body would’ve built up a resistance. He also advised that if you get poison ivy on your skin, run it under hot as you can bear water. It stops the itching. This treatment also works for bee stings or ant bites. He gave us recipes for various ailments, but spoke so fast that I’m not sure how accurate my note taking was, so I’m reluctant to publish those here. But I knew I wanted one of his books, so I walked down to his booth, hoping they hadn’t been packed away, since the conference was now ended.

His booth had been packed into the van, but a small crowd of us waited patiently while a crew member went to retrieve them. I studied a rack of tinctures that a lady had made, something I’d like to produce myself, and watched with amusement, an abandoned football, left in the mud, but carefully avoided by everyone who passed it by. Darry returned with a box of his books, The Herbal Remedies of Tommie Bass. I highly recommend it, it’s full of invaluable treatments and uses of plants. I also got a tin of his salve, for skin problems, and supposedly, a treatment for skin cancer.

I left the grounds, and walked, laden with my goodies, towards Stanley, who hadn’t, thankfully, sunk into the mud. It had been a mind blowing, thoughtful, and educational day. I was astonished to realize I’d been here for 8 hours. And I’ll definitely be back next year, to glean a further education in these homesteading skills.

 

Torrid Temperatures and Tanks

 On Sunday, I took Bill to one of my favorite yearly events, the Tank Farm, at Nokesville. I was a little apprehensive, since it was going to be very sunny, and I was nervous about getting a migraine. But I was determined to go, and armed with sunglasses and Excedrin, we arrived early enough to witness some superb flame throwing, with intense heat and exceedingly loud bangs. It should be noted that I was still unaware that my camera was somehow set in JPG mode, so the photos aren't of the sharpest quality. I did resolve this a few days later.

This is my third time here, and I know I'll be back again, since the tanks on display and the 200 living historians change every year. There were over 50 vehicles this weekend, some of which would be running, and even a Boeing Chinook helicopter this year, which we were allowed to sit in. Although the owner wants these all eventually housed inside climate controlled buildings to better preserve them, there's nothing better than seeing them out here in a field, covered in mud, and dust flying as they labor around the track.

This young lad posed with his $400 samurai sword. Apparently only officers would carry these. His colleague's size 2 jacket is from 1942, and was cheaper to buy than a reproduction one, since few people these days can fit into the vintage clothing, so most folks can't wear them. No McDonalds back then...

The heat was debilitating, and I was very concerned about a migraine suddenly starting, but I ducked into the shade whenever I could. A few of the historians were suffering too, and told me they weren't sure why the event was in August this year, rather than its usual September date. The numbers were higher this year, 15-18K visitors on Saturday, and about 10K last year on the Saturday. I told them I hoped it was because of better marketing than the time of year that brought in more visitors. It would be awful if keeping the event in August with these higher temperatures meant less exhibitors would attend.

Bill had a go at stabbing a stuffed sack. I wondered if he had anyone in mind as he was pretty ferocious when he attacked it. I was too hot and bothered to have a go myself. His instructor was incredibly patient, and all of them were very accommodating when people wanted photos. They always looked completely authentic.

A Swedish tank hammering around the track, the guys inside looking like they were having the best fun. I chatted for a while with the German officer, whom I told, actually scared me a little, because he looked like he’d stepped off a WWII movie set. He was very pleased about that!  The gentleman above, with the guns, has a sign above him, which rhymes in German, and translates to "We old monkeys are the Fuhrer's newest weapon."

Bill and I were constantly rushing back and forth from the tanks to the track as featured tanks were announced, but the stars of the day, for me, were the 2 Centurions, Easily, the most intimidating and best looking, it was remarkable to have 2 of them running round the track. One was Swiss, and the second was from the British army. They were incredible, and I loved the squeaking of their wheels as their tracks tore through the dusty ground. The poor announcer was standing by the track and each time the tanks thundered past, he disappeared completely in an orange cloud, but his voice still came through strong, without one cough! I think the tank drivers got a kick out of this.

Here's a video of the British Centurion. How amazing is it that I can stand and watch this gorgeous British tank, only an hour from my home. Note the Chinook helicopter in the background.

As our day started, so it finished, with more flame throwing. The 96th Marine Corp pretended to take over a bunker with guns and flames. We were a bit further away this time, so couldn't feel the blazing heat, which I was quite happy about. They put on a great show, followed by claps and cheers from the crowd, and then we were ready to go. I could feel I'd got a little sunburned, but was extremely grateful that I hadn't had a migraine, my first headache free day for a week. We celebrated with a beer on the way home, my first drink for 2 weeks. I'm slowly getting better!