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Sometimes
it seems almost impossible that summer has come
and is almost gone. Soon there will be frost on
the pumpkins. In my case, I have to look around me
try to remember what I did during all that nice
weather. I know I must have done something—There
are my leathers over there in a corner, my old
flinter is leaning against a wall instead of
hanging from its hooks, I have no idea where my
hat is, but there is my haversack hanging from a
coat hook with my powder horns, my mocs are on my
feet, and I think I saw my blanket and possibles
pouch in the back of the truck along with a small
kettle and a fry pan.
You
know, now that I’ve been thinking about it for a
moment, I do remember making a camp over in Happy
Canyon and another up near the head of Dominguez
Canyon. Then there was the archery stump shooting
foray. That was only an overnighter, but a good
one. By golly! There was also that trek up
Calamity Creek looking for the old mine that
someone told me they thought was up there. They
were wrong as far as I could tell—I found one
that was pretty much like they described up under
Wild Horse Mesa. Interesting place, too. No
artifacts, but a pretty big hole and lots of
over-burden. There are a couple of other places I
want to check out before the weather changes.
Carson Hole, for one, and for another all that
incredible land down off the west rim of the
Uncompahgre. From the top you can look down
to mountain peaks of 10,000 feet elevation. That
piece of the country stretches for what must be
well over fifty road less miles and seems always to
be covered in a blue haze that hides specific
details and makes you just itch to get down in
there.
I’ve been
thinking about a little editorial I read the other
day that deals with organizations and why some die
while others flourish. I don’t know that I agree
with it, but it certainly made me think. It
basically tells, in simple terms, how a handful of
people are willing to do all the work and the
balance of members are willing to let them. It
follows that as these people get tired or distracted
or whatever, and they drop out, no one replaces
them. Pretty soon there is no organizational
structure and the member drift away also. If the
members are lucky, there will be one or two folk
left who pick up the reins and do the work. Soon, a
friend or two join in and then friends of those two
take part. Eventually, there are enough folks to do
the work and chase the dream; whatever that might
be. Now the old members who had dropped out begin
returning, They don’t want to work—just hang
around and perhaps on occasion, bitch about the way
the work is getting done. The core members don’t
much care—they are busy having fun.
So if you sometimes feel the NAF is wandering
a bit, don’t bitch—communicate and let the
officers know that you are still alive and would
like to take part in keeping the outfit going, even
if it’s just attending a camp or trek.
Respectfully
Yr Hmbl, Ob’t Etc.
Bill
Cunningham
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- Our
balance for the NAF account stands at $1617.00
as of this issue.
- Mark
Hatfield has been paid the $35.00 for rental
of toilets used at the "Three Pines
Rendezvous".
- We
are paying $4.95 a month for the Smoke Signals
website.
- My
position will be open this coming year for the
NAF Secretary/Treasurer. The duties are not
particularly difficult but one must have the
time to monitor the online email account, and
periodically get caught up, as well as an
ability to open a designated checking account
for our funds, pay bills, etc.
NAF
Secretary-Treasurer
Patrick
Quilter
639
Thalia St
Laguna
Beach, CA, 92651
Best
regards from Yr Most Obt,
Sv't
Pat
Quilter
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