Wintering ~ Page 141
"I'll take that," said John Law.
"Yessir."
"And you come with me," he added.
I spent an hour in his patrol car while he radioed in that he was holding a young man (I think I was his senior) dressed in cowboy clothes, with one of the biggest pistols made, concealed in a vehicle that didn't have any papers.
I was checked clear back to Washington D. C.. It came out that I had a security clearance, from my U.S. Air Force days, of two steps above top secret; that my father was an influential lawyer with political contacts.
They then guessed I really didn't fit the description of the bank robber who had escaped in an old truck the same make as we were driving, and we were released. My weapon was returned, unloaded, with the advice to get something smaller, as I had every trooper in the state outgunned. Welcome back, Murray.
I stayed at my mother's home in Portland, for about a month. TV, hot showers, all I could eat, didn't have the same appeal. By then. I felt caged. Also, we didn't have any money, and Bernice needed an operation. A mining job came up in Nevada, and I left the family behind, in school, while I and Charlie took off on our free and lonesome.
Back in the saddle again, we checked a number of claims in the mountain and valley region of White pine County, about 80 miles from Ely, Nevada, one way, and 0 miles from nowhere the other. It was fun at first, but I soon began to wish that BJ, Bernadette, Colette, and Bernice were riding at my side.
Traveling on into Utah, I found a number of claims that needed to be surveyed by transit. It looked as if there was enough work to keep us a few months, and there was a school only 30 miles away. So, as soon as Bernice had recovered from her operation, she ended up out ahead of me, holding a stadia rod.
Our camp was a trailer parked by a warm springs straddling the Nevada and Utah state line. For neighbors we had coyotes, sheep, coyotes, cattle, coyotes, rabbits, coyotes, and herds of wild horses.
"Yessir."
"And you come with me," he added.
I spent an hour in his patrol car while he radioed in that he was holding a young man (I think I was his senior) dressed in cowboy clothes, with one of the biggest pistols made, concealed in a vehicle that didn't have any papers.
I was checked clear back to Washington D. C.. It came out that I had a security clearance, from my U.S. Air Force days, of two steps above top secret; that my father was an influential lawyer with political contacts.
They then guessed I really didn't fit the description of the bank robber who had escaped in an old truck the same make as we were driving, and we were released. My weapon was returned, unloaded, with the advice to get something smaller, as I had every trooper in the state outgunned. Welcome back, Murray.
I stayed at my mother's home in Portland, for about a month. TV, hot showers, all I could eat, didn't have the same appeal. By then. I felt caged. Also, we didn't have any money, and Bernice needed an operation. A mining job came up in Nevada, and I left the family behind, in school, while I and Charlie took off on our free and lonesome.
Back in the saddle again, we checked a number of claims in the mountain and valley region of White pine County, about 80 miles from Ely, Nevada, one way, and 0 miles from nowhere the other. It was fun at first, but I soon began to wish that BJ, Bernadette, Colette, and Bernice were riding at my side.
Traveling on into Utah, I found a number of claims that needed to be surveyed by transit. It looked as if there was enough work to keep us a few months, and there was a school only 30 miles away. So, as soon as Bernice had recovered from her operation, she ended up out ahead of me, holding a stadia rod.
Our camp was a trailer parked by a warm springs straddling the Nevada and Utah state line. For neighbors we had coyotes, sheep, coyotes, cattle, coyotes, rabbits, coyotes, and herds of wild horses.
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Text and Photographs © Barry Murray 1971-2007 Mac&Murray Multimedia