CAPTAIN’S LOG

I’d like to say I had no expectations about the annual rendezvous the NAF scheduled to be held with the Anasazi Free Traders, but I’d be telling a lie, or, as one of the country’s leaders said not too long ago, "I mis-remembered." Let me explain:

Years ago I attended a national rendezvous held on the Kolob Peninsula in southern Utah. It was booshwayed by Joe and Vikki Wilde and it proved to be a fantastic event that I enjoyed so much that I never forgot it. I have since encountered one or the other of them from time to time and have always come away impressed with their enthusiasm. So. . . when I began casting about for what to do and where to do it for our annual rendezvous I thought of them. Somehow or other I stumbled across their site on the net, saw that they were having a rendezvous, and called. Vikki invited us to attend and was very pleasant—even offering us our own site. I might add that the Anasazi FT has their own 120 acre site in Stone Canyon well outside St. George, Utah. Some time later I verified that we would show up and again was welcomed and given lots of information about what to expect, such as weather conditions, camping sites, activities, and amenities. Well, that was nice but not the half of it.

Along with FoxPaw from Florida, I showed up a few days early and wandered about the site, nearly totally lost. The site is up the mountain bench high enough to be cool in the evenings and nicely warm in the daytime. It is located in spectacular scenery and totally private. There were signs posted, and obvious camping spots, but as to where the NAF was to locate I was clueless, Eventually I wandered up through what was marked as Trader’s Row and just off that a bit stood a large, well pitched tipi. Its owner was a large black dog who welcomed us and introduced us to her owner, a red-bearded, buckskin clad, Confederate flag flying gent with the name of General Lee. A gracious host he obtained help for us and we were given some choices as to where we’d prefer to camp—ending up with a spot that had room for the entire NAF to pitch their tents—and it proved to be right in the middle of camp. More importantly, it was just a couple hundred feet from where for $5.00 you could get a breakfast of eggs, meat, potatoes, and unlimited pancakes and coffee. What a deal! Not only that, but more or less permanent hooters were conveniently located throughout camp.

We pitched the lodge and left to socialize in St. George for a couple days and when we returned, Howdy was there with his camp all set up. Not long after, first Bob Loyd from down in Arizona, then Ferrell and Jason from the SLC area rolled in and then Randy from Vernal and his buddy pitched their camp over through the trees a way. By Thursday lots of people were rolling in. Trader’s row was lined with tents that had more than the made in India tourist stuff I’ve come to expect over the past ten or so years—and many of the trader’s were folks I’d known for a long time, some of them friends from the AMM.

At any rate, after we’d spent a couple of convivial evenings around the campfires (our own and those of others—this was a warm, friendly camp where there were no strangers) the rendezvous was beginning to get underway. The NAF went exploring around the events—what’s that they call it at the Olympics? Venues! Yes.

The man who set up and ran the archery range proved to be a bowyer and archer of note. Al is moderately tall, by turns garrulous or taciturn. A fine fellow, his campfire always has a pot of coffee going and his apple pie is excellent. The archery course he’d laid out was all 3D and a real surprise. None of the targets was particularly far from the shooter but that doesn’t mean they weren’t challenging. For instance, at one there was a stump and you had to stand on it on one foot while the other waved around in the air, and you had to shoot a turkey that lurked behind a screening of brush. At another, you had to stand on a log and face north while you shot an antelope located south, or behind you. It, too, had a nice screening of tree limbs. And those were two of the easiest shots. It should be mentioned that each target was makeable, you just had to figure out how to do it. The competition was as fierce as it was fun.

There was a tomahawk target that was mounted on a sort of Ferris wheel that turned. A real twist that one. Knife targets were likewise a treat. The rifle range is a monster—every target makeable but requiring thought. And if the target doesn’t ping, pang, or ring; you missed! It is not a ho-hum paper puncher. The fry pan throw was also of a slightly different cast. And there were categories in each competition—including for kids.

The public was allowed in during the day and although I had my reservations about that it proved a successful thing. Those "civilians" attended classes and seminars put on by the rendezvous (including a couple by Howdy Davis) and spent plenty of money on trader’s row. And nary a row did any of them raise.

I have never been to a rendezvous that had as many prizes, and good ones at that. There were prizes for each competition event and for every class and age category. The winners were happy and I did not see one disgruntled person who did not win. What a treat! The club also had a couple raffles. Generally I am leery of raffles but the tickets were about a buck each and the things being raffled off were well worth having—and a couple of our NAF members won some of them. Speaking of value, I have to tell you about the blacksmith. I am partial to small, two fingered flint strikers. I have a couple friends in New Zealand that I wanted to get something for. Bob Loyd had given us all some handsome flint, the likes of which I had not seen since I’d obtained some from Denmark. I had two of the small fire strikers made and they are beautiful. I have to tell you I was quite taken aback at the price though. Five dollars ($5.00) each! Such a deal! I sent them and some of the flint off to NZ as soon as I got home. Bob also brought some reddish slate sort of thin flat rock along with him. With a rounded stick he (and after a bit all of us) could make those things putt just like a hen turkey. Thank you, Bob.

At the rendezvous there were no hassles, no politics, no cliques, no finger pointing, no silly pedants, no fights, no great list of rules. There was room and acceptance of buckskinners of all levels and expertise or lack of it. Friendly people were in abundance. Help was there if you wanted it. Camaraderie was rampant. You may have guessed—everyone of us NAF folks had a great time. I had about given up on rendezvous entirely. Had, in fact, gotten rid of all but one old tipi and was planning this to be its last trip. But this rendezvous was so good, so like the ones we grew accustomed to during the seventies and the early eighties, that I was entranced. I even bought a better tipi while there because I intend to be using it. I can assure you it will be at the Anasazi Free Trappers rendezvous in Stone Canyon outside St. George next year.

Check out the pictures of this event ------ > Captain's Photo's

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Report from June 24th.

                                                   I remain, Yr Svt.