The yes and no of unsheathing a khukuri -- cont.

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Rusty, I am still ROTFLMAO about the Wyatt Earp post. I am glad that there is more than one person that knows something aobut cowboy lore, legend, and history. That is the kinda thing that I grew up on, in Boston the whole Western era is looked down the nose by the group of people that I am around. thanks for the AM laugh.

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"Clear a path for the Kukhri or it will clear one for itself"
 
I know I said it somewhere, but when my best friend's brother in law went back to Boston for Dental School, they used to give him a hard time about coming from the wild west. Finally, his mom out here in Reno spotted a newspaper article about a couple drunks got into it at a bar, but it got broke up. One, a white guy, staggered out the door and passed out in front of the bar. The other, an Indin, stayed for a few minutes and HE was invited to leave so HE staggered out the door, seeing his enemy laying passed out and helpless. The upshot was the white guy got a very close haircut, and the indin got arrested when they caught him with the other guy's separated scalp. This was about the '70's. So the next time the arrogant Sons of Bostonians ( as opposed to the average decent Joe Sixpack ) gave Tom a hard time he handed them the newspaper clipping about the scalping.

I also remember talking to my friend ( the dentist's brother in law out at the postbox on my way into Reno.

They'd moved out to the foot of Geiger Grade ( the road to Virginia city ) and highway 395 which in the early '60s was ten miles out of Reno. So it wasn't uncommon for highrollers to get robbed and their throats cut and shoved out in the bushes ten miles south. Except this time my 10 year old friend and his 12 year old brother found the body in the canal in front of the shop. So since then, when people were alone or far apart on the property they were always armed as a matter of habit.

Anyway, my friend and I were chatting as he read thru the mail when a car with NEW YORK PLATES turned off the highway and up past us to Virginia City. A couple in the front seat of the car, a couple sitting in the back seat. You should have seen all four heads swivel in unison as they noticed the Single Action 45 in a working rig on his right hip. We would look at each other and roll on the shop floor without having to say a word for weeks.

My friend's dad walked into and out of the bank on the corner next to Uncle Bill's home several times to make transactions only to sit down in the car and realize he'd forgotten to take the 38 out of his hip pocket.

After Uncle Bill's back and things slow down I got a lot of stories. Like how the cowpokes on the Ponderosa ranch waved sixguns at people on their own property the horse trails used led thru. After the first few times it stopped. The property owners got themselves WAY too much better armed.

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These are stories that I have got to hear. I am so tired of stories that have something to do with a gangbanger getting banged. I grew up in the midwest. What is the difference between crips and bloods? One of the very few friends that I have out here who I talk to about knifes or guns or even motorcycles is from alabama. So most of the time I am forced to listen to insiped conversation about Which OS is the best, or the problem someone just had wiht a firewall program etc, etc. I think a lot of the things that define testostorne have been eliminated from the common vocabulary out here. If I asked one of my friends if he wanted to go out and run through some 45 acps, he would look at me like I had grown a third head. Oh well at least my compuuter runs like a charm. I still miss the gun toting varmit hunting days of my youth. Most of the people who I was able to sit and listen to tell stories about the west have passed on. C'est la guerre. I do really appreicate the time you have spent to tell even a few tales.

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"Clear a path for the Kukhri or it will clear one for itself"
 
And again

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Horse sense is what a jackass ain't got.
 
First thing Tuesday morning.

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Horse sense is what a jackass ain't got.
 
OK, here are two more stories for you Matt:

The first established Major Reno - for whom the city Uncle Bill lives in was named after - as Nevada's own General Custer ( 'ceptin for the fact he lived thru it ).

Now you have to remember that Northern Nevada had it's present three major tribes( Northern Paiute, Shoshone, Washoe ) plus the Bannocks who were the resident indins always stirring the pot. Other than the bad boy Bannocks, people pretty much got along. Sometime back a ways the Bannocks finally got mad at everyone else and moved up into southern Idaho.

For some reason or other, the Cavalry decided to teach "them indins" a lesson, don't matter which tribe but probably the Paiutes or Shosones. Anyway, somehow the indins got word and lit out before the Cavalry arrived heading north. So the Cavalry chased the indins, and chased them som more, until somewhere around the Black Rock desert ( where the new supersonic land speed record was set a couple years back ) the indins got their fill of getting chased. So they laid an ambush. It was quite successful. Practically nobody on either side got hurt, but the U.S. Cavalry was now effectively the U.S. ex-Cavalry ( dismounted ). Moreover, the indins underestimated the military's survival skills and about a third of the soldiers died on the walk back.

The second story happened in Como, now a ghost town. and is known as the Pinyon Pine Nut war. Between the Comstock Lode about 15 miles north of Dayton and Como, about 15 miles south of Dayton, the mines were cutting down just about every tree around for bracing the mine shafts. Since the indins depended on the pine nuts to carry them thru the winter months, there was a certain amount of bad will between the indins and miners. OK?

Now one day, a couple miners ran low on groceries and decided to hitch up their mules and walk to Dayton to get supplies. It was a long trip, but it could be done in a day, so off they went, early that morning.

Sometime after the two left, the indins came around and made it pretty clear they were fed up with the miners chopping down the food source they lived on, and the miners decided to put out a watch in case the indins came back to emphasize their displeasure. They even gave the sentries a password.

Nothin' happened til about 10 or 11 that night when the two miners who'd left for Dayton that morning got back. Since it'd been a very long day, they'd gotten into some of the refreshments they'd laid in and were feeling pretty good about the time they were challenged for the password. They were apparently not very coherent in their response, and the jumpy sentry let off several rounds.

Those shots woke up the whole camp, which promptly started seeing indins behind every bush. The battle lasted from about 11 PM to 3 or 4 AM when the last guy with the last bullet finally emptied his gun. Meanwhile, the two miners coming back from Dayton spent their time in no man's land hiding behind rocks all night. Anyway, everyone in the camp laid awake the last couple hours before the dawn waiting for the indins to finish them off. Come daylight, the two miners made it into town, folks got up, and an hour or two later here came some indins wanting to know what all the fuss was about last night.

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Horse sense is what a jackass ain't got.

[This message has been edited by Rusty (edited 02-22-2000).]
 
Oh yeah, the story about the Ponderosa Ranch at Incline Village.

My friend's ( the one with the 45 at the mail box ) family had a summer cabin on the lakefront of the northshore of Lake Tahoe. Since there was already a building, they were able to "repair" it into a full time home while others with lots just across the highway were stopped from building on their lots by a moratorium. The family also had a few of these lots on the other side of the highway.

Well, a few hundred yards down the highway, the Ponderosa dude ranch/theme park opened up just under the wire. They had horse rides on backwoods trails and all, and since nobody could build on the lots they owned there, the
Ranch people acted like the whole area belonged to them. Now this was the very late 60's, early 70's.

My friend's older brother, it later turned out, had been up on the undeveloped property when a riding party came along from the Ponderosa, and the guide figured he'd run the teenage kid off for some fun. and pulled a pistol and pointed it at the kid. The kid took off, alright. My friend saw his big brother come storming in the door of the lake house, grab an M1 Carbine, and head out without saying a word. So my friend grabbed his scoped 270 and a handfull of shells and went running after the brother. The riding party had turned around and made it back to the same spot when big brother comes crashing thru the bushes and slams the action of the carbine, chambering a round, leveling it at the guy who'd pointed the pistol at him, and informed the guide to stay off their property and don't EVER try pulling a gun on him again. Apparently no-one but the older brother, afterward, ever noticed my friend with the scoped 270 backing his brother up.

Sometime later, some of the guides from the Poderosa took shots at a lawyer camping on his property there.

Yup, that was in the old days - musta been at least 30 years ago.


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Horse sense is what a jackass ain't got.
 
I think we're all having fun posting strange stuff out here in the tail end of nowhere. It's clear Rusty is! I oughta tell the tale of the time I had to administer PreperationH to a ferret with hemorroids...

wink.gif


Jim

(true story, though - the first time, he squirmed and wiggled as that rubber glove approached a certain sensitive spot. Then he relaxed once it was on. Six hours later, I come walking up with a now-cleaned rubber glove and that tube, and instead of wiggling he squatted down, spread his hind legs, raised his tail and looked at me as if to say "Well? Ya gonna stick that goop on there, or what?".)
 
Besides, to get to page 3, you gotta pull up page 1 first - and thus see at least part of the picture on safe handling.

Sticking who knows what outrageous story will show up next onto the end of this thread just means people will check it more often instead of skipping by without a quick look.
 
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