Enlightening Eastwood's Pale Rider / Version III

“The Only Tough Part about Having To Film in Idaho Is When You Have To Leave” (Clint Eastwood)

Enlightening Eastwood's Pale Rider

With a vision for a Statewide Movie Signage Proposal

By Jim Banholzer

And special lights from Brad Nottingham & Professor Tom Trusky

Watching Clint Eastwood movies, particularly his well-crafted Westerns are almost like enrapturing religious experiences for some big screen buffs. Each of his movies project priceless lessons; even when he portrays an antagonist, such as the callous elephant hunter in White Hunter, Black Heart. Astoundingly enough, Clint filmed much of Pale Rider right here in Idaho, with a theme as timeless as the Boulder Mountains. Clint plays a nameless preacher protecting a poor prospecting town from a gang of ruffians sent by a greedy mining corporation, to intrude on their claim. This striking film, the first Western of which he was the producer, was created in1984 around Boulder City north of Ketchum and over by the Vienna Mine near Smiley Creek. Pale Rider was the predecessor to Clint’s 1992 Academy award-winning gem, Unforgiven.

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Each time I watch Pale Rider, I focus on the recognizable background terrain, sometimes freezing specific frames to find my way around in the mountains. As Brad Nottingham was a local then, he reminds us:

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“For Pale Rider, there were some filming issues evident in the movie as you see it today, which brought comment: it was filmed in our typically beautiful late Indian summer, and some of the riding scenes were shot just before and after an unpredictable early season snow, which frosted the upper parts of the ranges, while quickly melting off the lower elevations. As a film viewer, a period of time that seemed to be about a week, appeared to toggle from summer to winter, which brought some criticism, I remember; but any of us mountain folk wouldn’t give it a second thought.

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In addition, Clint made tremendous effort to restore the site that was disturbed by the building fronts, construction crew, and later the feet pounding of the actors and production crew on the little ridge and river drainage near the quaking aspen. Winter seemed to come quickly that year and for a bunch of us, it was hard to spot evidence of the film set trampling that next spring; though we tried. We also tried to find some kind of film crew artifact. My friend Lon and I located “the rock” that one of the miners was chipping on in an early scene from the film.

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When it finally came out, Pale Rider sort of stunned people, because it was a break from the classic Eastwood tradition. He played an even quieter, low-key character, and I remember people being confused about connecting a “preacher” role to him. Others, expecting the active dashing and violent Dirty Harry way of life found this movie kind of slow and spacey; features I didn’t mind at all this time. I just soaked in the scenery that I knew was almost in my backyard. I had driven our old Buick Wagon up there, and forded the rocky river crossing half a dozen times, hiking up to some of the “real” old mining cabins and diggings.

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Soon afterward, a local man, David Butterfield had us typeset and produce an exhausting field guide to potential filming locations across Idaho, including information about accommodations and prices, in order to drum up more interest from Hollywood. After the book was published, I remember that there wasn’t much response, until the Bruce Willis engine began churning up sleepy Hailey in the 90s.”

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While reading Brad’s insights, it struck me that the filming of Pale Rider was a significant enough event that we should commemorate it with a historical sign. Folks at The Idaho Transportation Department were receptive to this idea and revised the Wood River Mines sign to include such a tribute.

Part Two

Soon, after we relayed this information to Boise State University English Professor Tom Trusky, head of the Idaho Film Collection, Tom became enthusiastic about the Pale Rider tribute and expanded the idea with a “Statewide Movie Signage Proposal.” To quote Professor Trusky:

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“The tourist / publicity value of such signage is apparent and locals might appreciate such knowledge, too, if they are unaware of their cinematic heritage. As well, given the recent interest in bringing film production to the state, such signage would not only be public acknowledgement of Idaho’s considerable contribution to the film industry but also serve as a reminder to contemporary filmmakers of the Gem State possibilities.”

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Although we now face tough economic times, and are sometimes unsure where money will come from to fix and maintain highways, Tom’s Statewide Movie Signage proposal is precisely the type of project with which we can enrich Idaho’s future. By merging the information superhighway with our back road signage, we could show the world how we stand on the cutting edge, as well as being able to cut through bureaucracy in hard times.

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As technological capabilities continue to advance in affordable ways, it would be uplifting to see Idaho embrace the techno-generation by attaching to our already successful historical signage program, interactive items.

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For instance, when traveling up Highway 75 past the North Fork Store, when reaching the perimeter of interest where Marilyn Monroe starred in Bus Stop, we could make an alert available for interested travelers’ digital devices. A short holographic film of Marilyn hypnotically dancing with a billowing skirt on driver’s dashboards would keep dozing dads chipper and alert, lending to driver safety. Then, for the next fistful of history, when reaching Pale Rider’s Phantom Hill, we could create the sound of bullets whizzing by your ear, for a subsequent alert. After a quick Galena Lodge pit stop for perusal over photographs stuffed with Idaho’s rich silver history; proprietors of the Sawtooth Valley could smilingly profit by providing related reading materials to satisfy recently western-whetted appetites.

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Eventually, we could develop inexpensive solar powered information kiosks for our pullout areas. Our transportation department R&D teams could further engineer signposts to include efficient emergency communication devices such as the new smaller cell phone antennas currently under development. Additionally, we could imbed a camera within the untouchable hologram-eye to thwart vandals. When tampering is detected, we could program the sign to announce in Clint Eastwood’s sternest voice, “Go ahead! Make my day! Because you are now being filmed by an interactive sign commemorating Idaho films!” Stranded drivers in remote areas where cell phones often misfire could come to know these special signboards as secure places. Drivers passing by the Pale Rider signpost could even be inspired to take after the nameless preacher’s lead, and provide gracious assist to marooned travelers.

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Certainly, ITD already has some technologically savvy leaders aboard. This is my third positive experience with ITD leadership, which proves to me that they utilize a high level of innovativeness in their daily working environment. I hope that someday soon, our leaders will advance these landmark ideas past the incubation stage to transform these signpost pullouts into something that truly enhances our landscape. And when that day comes; since Professor Trusky has ascended into that grand script in the sky, Brad Nottingham and I would be delighted to see our Transportation Department name the Statewide Movie Signage Proposal in Tom’s honor.

(End Part Two)

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Footnotes:

You can read more of Brad Nottingham’s insights on the “good guys” in the Idaho Film Archive on Pale Rider: http://www.boisestate.edu/hemingway/film.htm

Complete text here:

http://privateidahoconversationleague.blogspot.com/2008/03/brad-nottinghams-pale-rider-memories.html

Lastly a related poem:

The Rock

I know about where it is
this big rock with a candy vein of gold in it
scintillating under the stars

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I want to find this Idaho Sword of Shannara
and lay me down under the silver fruit
Press the gold of my ear to the vibration
to sense if I can detect the echo of
when Lurch -or was it Jaws?
Split this baby in half
with an old 1863 hickory stick sledgehammer

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Yepperdoodle
I’ll bend up over the hill tonite
a-foot
too itchy and scratchy for a truck in that rough spot
to see if I can’t see how these hills have changed

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Yeah that’s it
I’ll pack up the DVD player
better bring a spare battery juice-pack
Cause it’s cold in those Idaho hills
I’ll freeze frame on the DVD
sections of Mountains in that backdrop
and compare it to our current status

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I think of the nameless preacher in the movie
and for some reason the Beatles real nowhere man
jangles my juices like Satchel Paige on opening day

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On spectacular evenings like these
Sometimes it feels like we’ll still be standing strong
long after these hills have fast eroded away

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Original URL for Enlightening Eastwood story:

http://greenvanholzer.blogspot.com/2007/04/enlightening-eastwoods-pale-rider-by.html

Footnote: Not long after posting the earlier missive to my personal blog, I noticed that it was getting twice as many visits as the rest of my stories combined. A year ago, Dave Worrall from the U.K. contacted me, mentioning that he is writing a book for Solo Publishing about Clint Eastwood’s Westerns and looking for some old photos of the Boulder City territory. After we exchanged a few e-mails, including a photo of the Wood River Mines sign, I suggested he subtitle his book “Clint Eastwood = Old West Action” since they are anagrams of each other. Furthermore, with a little photoshopping, he could design the equals-sign to resemble a smoking rifle barrel.

Footnote 2: With the Senate recently passing a bill, to create a fund to offer incentives to film movies and TV shows within the state, and with the newly created Idaho Film Bureau ready to offer these incentives as soon their funding comes through, perhaps portions of this funding could help with such a program. As the next logical step in the evolution of Idaho’s popular Highway Historical Marker program, perhaps the Idaho Film Bureau could even ask for donations on their website, from those who have favorite Idaho movies and would like to see those specific movies commemorated in such fashion.

Elaborations on vision for Statewide Movie Signage proposal

When ITD amended the Wood River Mines sign to include a tribute to Clint Eastwood’s Pale Rider it was not a full commemoration as we had hoped, however, they did recognize the historical significance of the movie. From my previous experience with Idaho Transportation Department personnel, I sense they have some highly capable leaders aboard and would likely be open to a proposal, which better honors Idaho films.

We should start with a prototype interactive movie sign, sticking with Pale Rider. After developing it, we then present it to ITD and the Idaho Historical Commission; perhaps even the governor. Besides the gimmick, I suggested earlier, of utilizing Clint Eastwood’s stern voice; we could design the sign to be vandalism resistant. Although millions of tourists have driven by the mountain goat observation telescopes near the same highway area as our proposed Pale Rider tribute, those instruments have been left mostly unscathed, since installed fifteen years ago. Interactive kiosks featuring short movie clips, designed in a similarly excellent manner, would automatically gain respect from most passerby. An editor I spoke with recently mentioned that arts and humanities grants are readily available to help jumpstart such projects.

Once we install the first interactive sign, we should have a press release. The movie industry will take note and want more of the same. This might be all we need for the project to take on a life of its own. After the movie signage proposal merges better with Idaho’s already successful Historical Signage program, we can enhance the project’s evolution by doing several things. For one, the film bureau could develop a “donate to your favorite movie” button on their website. Idaho’s Historical Society, Transportation Department and The Internet Movie Data Base ought to consider a similar donation option. After reading a few items about Idaho movies, some fanzines will likely find themselves wanting to contribute to a cool commemoration. Another timely follow-up would be to commission someone to write a guidebook to Idaho movies, including a map of the landmarks. The signs themselves could direct film buffs to other nearby movie signs.

If this highway project takes off, eventually the Idaho Tourism Bureau could develop Idaho or Northwest movie tour packages, including visits to movies under production. After tourists enjoy brief clips or holograms of the movie near the same site where it was filmed, an educated tour guide could speak more about the movie and answer relative questions. We could also program questions and answers into the interactive signs, along with a suggestion box that sends e-mails to the pertinent film bureau manager, etc.

Another thing the project could focus on is the surrounding areas where scenes from the various movies were filmed. For instance: When there is a diner where a breakfast scene was filmed, or a dance scene at a lodge, those places could be mentioned in the interactive signs / companion guidebook / interface devices and might be encouraged to display a plaque or aptly named items on their menus relating to silver screen scenes filmed in their establishments.

Although Idaho faces a budget shortfall, I believe this project is the kind we need to enrich Idaho’s future. The team at the Idaho Film Bureau is already aiming to do this, albeit on a larger scale. Now is an important time as any for us to invest in innovative ways in Idaho’s future.

Final footnote:

JEREMIAH ROBERT WIERENGA wrote a recent in depth article for Boise Weekly about Idaho struggling to gain a foothold in the film industry.

From the article:

“Although a late contender in this cinematic boxing match, the Idaho Film Office hopes our state’s celebrated scenery and enticing rebate incentives will bring film productions back to Idaho, which hasn’t billeted a big-budget movie since Dante’s Peak was filmed here more than 10 years ago.

“The film offices in individual states are economic development agencies,” Kathleen Haase (an industry specialist at the Idaho Film Office) said. “What we try to do is create an attractive environment in the state to lure productions to come to the state, spend their budgets, which are sizable … and hire our crew here. We hope to create jobs, and we bring in economic activity in [the] form of investment in the state from outside the state.”

The passage of the bill represents a major coup for the filmmakers who call Idaho home, but the battle is only half won. Although the measure has been approved, financial backing for the rebate still has not come through.

“We’re still hoping to have ours funded,” Haase said. “We’re at the mercy of the governor, our department and the Legislature as to funding.”
Initially, the Idaho Film Office received a flurry of calls in response to the adoption of the bill but interest has waned.

“We had to be very clear that indeed we have not yet been funded, so we’re sort of in a bit of a holding pattern until that does happen … [We're] ready to go out there in anticipation of it being funded sometime,” Haase said.

There is hope that financing for the measure will be approved by next summer. Because the incentive is funded through the Idaho Department of Commerce’s budget, which in turn is approved by state government, passing the measure is merely the first step in implementing the program. Haase encourages local voters to call their legislators in support of budget approval. While the bill received a good deal of support from local filmmakers and public figures, she hopes that the public will now take an active hand bringing the backing necessary to expand Idaho’s film industry.”

Full article here:
http://www.boiseweekly.com/gyrobase/Content?oid=oid%3A319320

Honor Indigenous people with a Camas Lily license plate.

Kudos to Tony Evans for his four-part broad ranging Express series on Native Americans, and their close connections to our valley. Not only should every Southern Idaho Historical Society consider permanently linking to the series, but also, as one local scholar observed; it could be upgraded into a pamphlet or small book and made mandatory or recommended reading as part of local school curriculums.

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Particularly interesting in Tony’s story are the parts about Native Americans powerful relationship with the Earth through the camas plant. It was refreshing to read about the annual Camas Lily Days Festival featuring “Indian dancing, arts and crafts and the traditional baking of camas bulbs in rock-lined fire pits covered with wet grass and earth.” As well as June’s energized Fairfield festival, something else nice that I would like to see is a tribute to the Native American / camas root connection through our Idaho DMV specialized license plate series. An artist rendering of the camas celebration, based on the popular Sacagawea dollar coin template would make a good fit.

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For years, I’ve been a proud displayer of Famous Idaho Potato plates on some of my rigs, but as camas roots are four times more nutritious than our average russet, I would be happier than a sunny camas bluebird to upgrade to such new customized plates.

I can’t see driving 85

It’s remarkable that the Texas government is in the process of upping their speed limit to 85 mph on over 500 miles of main roads. Perusing through some of the Texas newspaper comments indicates that there is a strong majority in favor of this action. One notable commentator said “They’ve never had a problem on Germany’s Autobahn (where there is no speed limit), so why not raise it here?”

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Perhaps this particular observer has not yet examined some of the Autobahn’s recent troubles: Two summers ago, on a day when “heavy rain suddenly gave way to blinding sunshine, catching motorists unaware,” more than 65 people were injured in a massive pileup, including 10 critically.

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In early April of this year, 50 more cars were involved in another massive Autobahn pile-up, caused in part by a blinding sandstorm, created by plowed neighboring agriculture fields. This fiery crash left 10 dead and almost 100 injured.

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One of my co-travelers has observed that I often drive like a country bumpkin. Perhaps it’s because, while negotiating local roads, I think of these dicey situations and my own beloved ones lost in fiery crashes. And my personal grief is not isolated, as our country loses over 30,000 motor travelers a year to road deaths; many of them on high speed rural roads.

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However, since I’m mostly unfamiliar with Texas roads, maybe there’s something safer about them, that I’m not considering. It would be nice to hear from Dallas to see what that insightful Times-News frequent letter contributor Max Hatfield’s take is on this. As for myself, I can’t see how a dawdling country bumpkin like me can be reasonably expected to merge safely from highway ramps, onto the Interstate, with oncoming traffic buzzing at 85 and even faster!

Ancient Airport Anecdotes

Ancient Airport Anecdotes

In my years of working around aircraft here in Sun Valley, I developed a respect for the inherent danger of turning props, fuel trucks and deicing equipment. Back then, while deicing hundreds of planes so they could fly safe, I sometimes wondered as to what extent future clean-up crews would need to go to excavate tarmac and the contaminated dirt beneath; if we ever relocated the airport. Now as that day approaches; it will be interesting to see how the airport authority handles this, as well as seeing what safety standards they set in place for the new airport, regarding innovative heated deicing booths with environmentally safe collectors for the polluted fluids.

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Meanwhile, while recently recounting some old stories about airport safety, a friend suggested that I write a few of these down for the public’s enjoyment. So here goes:

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While first training to be airline worker in Sun Valley, my co-workers told me about an incident involving Horizon Air’s initial flight into the Wood River Valley. Back then, Horizon was flying trendy 17-passenger Fairchild Metroliners. They had a pilot and co-pilot, but no flight attendant. If you were above average height you would need to duck to negotiate the way to your seat. The Metros had two luggage compartments; one in the rear or aft of the plane and a second smaller one with doors on each side of the nose. If you were a ramp worker, you needed to remember that the luggage compartment in the nose of the aircraft did not pressurize upon takeoff. Therefore, you did not load objects affected by high altitude, especially pets into the nose!

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Milt Kuolt was the primary founder of Horizon Air and the 1981 christening flight into Sun Valley was a blue ribbon ceremony. Mr. Kuolt also owned Elkhorn Resort; thus he was following the same successful formula Averill Harriman used transporting Union Pacific railroad passengers into Sun Valley. For that first flight though, someone had forgot that basic safety tenet and loaded the founders’ dog into the front of the aircraft. Fortunately, the dog only had a slight case of the bends and was resilient enough to shake it off after a few hours.

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With this in mind, it’s remarkable how for my own first training flight, a comparable mistake almost occurred involving another Metro. It was November of ’93 and I had just returned from Seattle after passing the rigorous exams Horizon gives to prospective employees. During our training session out on the ramp, three co-workers introduced me to our pilots and then showed me the protocol for loading the aircraft. We secured the luggage doors properly, and although we were under pressure for the plane to leave on time, some last second passengers arrived and our ticket counter kindly decided to accommodate them. Suddenly, my co-workers started running around the ramp in a tremendous rush so we could maintain an untarnished on time record. As I was being trained to haul the GPU away from the props after we jumpstarted the plane, I noticed one of the workers open the doors to the nose of the aircraft in case we needed to store some carry-ons. The passengers got on, we started the plane and it went down the taxiway in good time.

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However, a few minutes later the plane suddenly returned to our ramp area. Turns out that in our great rush to get the plane out on time, nobody had re-secured the far nose door! Further compounding the safety issue with this door, was that there no “open door” indicator sensor attached to the nose doors for this model of aircraft. Furthermore, from the cockpit it was impossible to see if the Metro nose doors were secure. Fortunately, an alert airport tower controller noticed the door swinging open as the Metro approached the runway from the taxiway and radioed our pilots about the problem. I shudder to think what could have happened had that plane actually taken off with the nose door open. And finally, when it did take off securely, I’ll never forget that after the co-pilot called in his times over the radio, he added: “And way to teach that new guy the ropes, Darcie”![1]

To be continued…

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[1] Not her real name.

Sometimes 100 year events occur in our lifetime

It’s remarkable how some Idahoans who are connected with the nuclear industry are downplaying the horrific events in Japan. While some of these officials say they are confident that a similar event could never happen here, I sense a credibility gap and I’m unsure whether they are seriously taking into account all contingencies.

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For instance, what about the fact that the INL operates amid an earthquake zone; one strongly active in recent times? On the 20^th anniversary of the 1983, 6.9 Borah earthquake, STEPHEN WEISER, Assistant deputy director of mitigation for the Idaho Bureau of Disaster Services said "Central Idaho is extremely vulnerable to earthquakes and has a great deal of seismic activity.”

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Besides occasional earthquakes, other challenges that the purportedly fail-safe and “clean” nuclear industry needs to contend with are the possibilities of terrorist attacks, infrastructure wear and tear, discontented employees, and plain old human error. Then there’s the proud legacy of nuclear waste. Our Country stores more spent fuel rods than Japan does, and this insidiously deadly radiation will endure an epoch tenfold longer than the most ancient Egyptian pyramid.

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100 year events sometimes do occur within our lifetimes: 9-11, Pearl Harbor, Hurricane Katrina, The Indonesian and Japan Tsunamis, Mt. Saint Helens exploding, the Teton Dam bursting or even spring flooding in Woodside. It’s downright disingenuous for putrid plutonium propheteers to claim that a nuclear accident could never occur here; especially when one already has. We will be stuck on the road to ruin if our leaders continue to be too shortsighted to plan no further than the next election, muffle whistleblowers so we don’t learn from our mistakes, and neglect to upgrade nuclear plants to high modern standards; trading short-term gain for long term environment disaster. 

Keep engine idling fine high at filling stations

Kudos to the Ketchum Police Department for their diplomatic approach in asking the City Council to reduce the stiff $100 - $300 vehicle idling fines. I was wondering why I hadn’t heard about any motorists being actually penalized yet, and was impressed when I heard this appeal. While the City Council may compromise on this, I would like to suggest that there is at least one sector, where they should keep the fine as high as it is, or perhaps even increase it: That area is right at our local gas pumps. Since the wintry weather has set in, I have witnessed several motorists filling their gas tanks, without turning off their engines!

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Curious about this, I asked some local station attendants about how frequently they see this, and was told that it is occurring on a daily basis. I’m wondering if the motorists who fill their gas tanks with engines running realize how dangerous this is, because the results could be quite terrifying.

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Unlike the idling ordinance, which I find posted nowhere in town, clear warnings are highlighted on the front of every gas pump to shut off the engine before filling your tank. However, with dozens of motorists in the valley apparently ignoring this basic safety tenet every week, the odds have increased for a simple bit of static electricity to cause a tragic event.

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If not fining people for this, I believe that it is at least a concern, where the Ketchum City Council should ask our Police and Fire Department leaders to refocus vigorous educational warnings on dangerous idling engines.

Idaho Burning Woman Auguries

Idaho Burning Woman Auguries

For every light, which flicketh on,

another salmon cease to spawn,

The hunter without spiritual prayer,

teaches his young to despair

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Fisherman never giving thanks;

discards plastic on river banks,

Each piece dropped by river oak,

a rainbow does fade and choke

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One who has stopped reading books,

is out poaching royal Chinooks,

He who harms creatures with no need,

shall nevr know love of woman indeed,

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She who hurts a little sage hen,

shall not become true love of man,

An animal knows when you fear it,

and can read the good your spirit

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Humans not built separate from nature,

but tangled now with Techno-future,

Can we learn living side by side,

with shady spots and complicated pride?

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One could read tracks to a day,

until ego began to shade his way,

Her stickers urged “Visualize World Peace!”

yet friendship with her neighbor ceased

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Save the lion, wolf and bear,

but what about the kids you care?

High schools parking lot’s a mess,

projecting acts of generation next

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Each delay of children’s center,

a young lad loses a valuable mentor,

Drinking and speeding up and down,

such hobbies paint your face a clown,

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Son’s military service brings law and order,

Wild man discovers new psychic borders,

Every hungry truck engine left while idling,

A Persian Gulf soldier drowns in oil fighting,

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A day spent within forced mechanical shields,

Distances one’s touch from beauties fields,

Every radioactive bomb a dud,

Gain we anew one field of spud

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Each spilled barrel of in-toxic-crated waste,

A song filled meadow churns slow to paste,

Following a daily ritual too close,

hollows mans spirit into a ghost

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Too much time on highway lately?

Pirsig’s advice: think laterally,

The crooked road you’ll find much more,

the cup of time fulfilled will pour

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With Faster, Hurry! Go! Go! Go!

You might just zip, right past the show,

Airport paves a runway long,

cooks gridlock in a country song,

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Each tailgate to a bumper,

forces a body to become a jumper

Too much fame, too much luck,

into Private Idaho you duck,

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Inner city pressure forced you here,

wolverine medicine revealed over beer,

Hamp man dressed down, furtively glancing;

try soft deceit for excellent dancing,

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Social help not here with this wealth,

we’re forty-ninth in mental health,

Each resort by glamour lighted,

another criminal is invited

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With synthetic chemicals excessive high,

dark questionable characters draw a nigh,

A pot of gold will drive some crazy;

our moral lines become quite hazy

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My last letter to Dad & mother,

“Valley’s brimmed with small potatoes smashing one another,”

Each new shelter built on field,

mountain lion blazes new trail to yield,

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Tree roots cut with sewage hookup,

Great horned’s cloak above is shook up,

A house built with intent of wrath:

Man himself loses access path,

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A truth that’s told with ill intent,

beats any lie you can invent,

Should I do a good job replacing this grate?

Hey, it’s a low liability State

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Friendly waves gone unacknowledged;

snared upon wrong books in college?

Shiny idea gems from mind were taken,

with Indian lands life forsaken

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No return to lake and ocean,

bringeth gesture without motion,

Fearless leader guides a human race, 

now seek thee quick their aged face

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Think ye mental storm difficult handle? 

find two honest men with said stick candle,

Purify yourself deep in Gaia forest;

Help marriage with Earth come undivorced…

Unreasonable flag restrictions

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It’s remarkable that representatives of Hailey’s Copper Ranch Homeowners’ Association would demand that Robin Perfect remove the American flag decorating her front porch, as it is a strong symbol of support for her son Sgt. Edward Nalder, recently deployed overseas to the war in Iraq with the Idaho Army National Guard's 116th Cavalry Brigade.

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Especially significant is the fact that this is happening in the same small town where we already have a soldier missing in action, U.S. Army Specialist Bowe Bergdahl.

Traditionally for decades, all flags and statues have been exempt from most homeowner association bylaws. However, in recent years these new little forms of government have become increasingly more powerful, so much so, that some have been testing new waters.

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Certainly, there are positive aspects to having close-knit community oversights; however, to maintain unwavering attitudes about allowing simple family support for our troops, in the form of small American flags, especially around Veterans Day; is strong evidence of a homeowner association becoming too damn big for their britches.

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Perhaps, for this Veterans Day, the Woodside Homeowners’ association should consider ‘a Perfect olive branch’ by offering in place of these pesky individual flags, to build a giant community American flag, over where the old Ironwood gym was supposed to be refurbished, along with signage commemorating Sgt. Nalder, as well as any other local soldier-warriors currently deployed in our terrible wars.

A new method of courtship bugling?

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A new method of courtship bugling

I was helping a work crew in a mid-valley garage recently, where we were shifting some mechanical equipment around. The job was going well, when suddenly from outdoors we heard an unusual screech from one of the lifting machines. We went outside to see what the problem was and soon realized that it wasn’t the lift-gate at all, but rather an elk bugling from the adjacent woodlands and quite loud too.


Some friends pulled up for a short visit, and we mentioned the trumpeting elk. They shut down their idling engine, listened for some moments and soon heard the hearkening music; accentuated by aspens quaking in the foreground. We shared pleasant smiles and they shortly went on their way. A bit later, we needed to pick up more equipment, so we began to head out. Within a minute we heard the lively elk bugling again and I suggested to the friend riding in the advantageous shotgun position that he make preparations to shoot a photo.


As the bull elk continued calling, we cautiously pulled closer. Soon we were within thirty yards of the large mammal and our friend appeared ready with the phone-camera clutched in his wrist. However, as we braked to a quiet halt, I saw that I was mistaken: Our friend was not preparing to shoot a picture or video of the lively elk, but was rather involved with an intensive text message. At first I thought that he was jesting; surely it’s not every day you get treated to a majestic elk bugling in such close proximity.


The other two of us, softly cried to him and said, “Okay the joke is up, and you can take some photos of the elk now.” However, he continued with his rigorous personal text messaging. Then we wondered if perhaps we had it backwards. We knew that the friend riding shotgun is an outdoorsy type and perhaps for him fantastic elk bugling is a common occurrence. Still, the episode baffled the other two of us: We hoped the reason he ignored our pleas to capture the simple photo in the enchanted forest was that he was performing a little bugling of his own. If this is the case, we hope that his amour responded in kind to his new-age ritualistic test message. Maybe, for a first date they can share an unbridled nature walk together. If he times it right, he can impress her with our bugling elk.

An unexpected bungee jump

After Lana cleaned up from tipping over the birdbath, I turned my attention back to the underground antenna project that part of our science class was working on. There was an improved incentive too; as a large mining concern had expressed interest in helping to fund the venture. After a few hours of medium progress, I stepped outdoors for some fresh air and saw that Lana’s pink Porsche was gone. I had told her that she could stay over, but would have to use the guest room, as I needed some splendid isolation to focus properly.

*

Lana probably took this the wrong way, in light of the recent conversation we had about our old feelings racing back toward each other. However, as always, work came first for me, and this newfangled communications project was promising. While outside, I noticed that the porch light wasn’t actually burned out, but that somebody had unscrewed it and tucked it into an old robin’s nest. That was odd enough, but then in the reflection of the obsidian mirror sundial, I saw some items scattered about, presumably from Lana’s satchel, when she took her midnight spill. Leaning over to pick them up, I found a map with Amy’s house circled in red. Why would Lana need that? Suddenly, the thought crossed my mind that I should have presented Amy a pendulum with a more robust rock, or better yet some nunchucks. I hastily tried to ring Amy, but it went straight to voicemail.

*

I meditated for a moment and tried to conjure up some remote viewing powers. What I could see didn’t look good, so I rushed the pantechnivan over to Amy’s. Lana’s pink Porsche was parked by Amy’s driveway at the end of a long set of skid marks. Through the upstairs bay window, the action appeared chaotic; however I could only see one shadow. Insistently, I rang the bell, and pounded on the front door, but to no avail. I circled the perimeter to find every door locked tight. Meanwhile, the clamor from upstairs continued unabated.

*

Returning to the van, I macgyvered what was there, affixing a rope ladder to the house from a bungee-cord web. As an early season frost set in, I clambered up the makeshift ladder, trying to gain a grasp on the gutter. It was too slick though and I slipped off the edge. The bungee cord caught me and there I was, stuck dangling from my ankle, bouncing in Amy’s courtyard. Right then a police car screamed in and shined his bubblegum lights all over the place. Then through the loudspeaker, a sturdy voice demanded, “Freeze up right there Max Rudolph! This is your sheriff, Wilt Fleming!”

*

About the author: Although the speed limit has been reduced to 15 or 20 in many Hailey neighborhoods, the last time Jim Banholzer received a traffic infraction was in 1985.

Lana’s midnight shadow factor

*

Although I’ve long been infatuated with Lana, something about her had been bothering me; ever since the 4^th of July when she and I explored the subterranean tunnels that web beneath Hailey’s Main Street. Throughout the festive holiday she kept pressing me to disclose the secret location of the second silver-laden pantechnivan. Then, right before we celebrated the fireworks, I noticed Lana leafing through my personal journal in the library. That wouldn’t get her very far though, because I’ve written most of my notes in cryptic code. The thing that niggled at me the most was that when Lana and I embraced close on the Mint’s deck during the parade highlights, I noticed that she didn’t cast a shadow.

*

By having no shadow, I mean that as we hugged, I only saw one small silhouette on the north ground between the two of us. Granted the parade ends at the same time the sun is near zenith, but still; right when I noticed this strangeness, Lana made an excuse to dash inside The Mint, where the design of the lively dance hall makes it difficult to distinguish individual shadows. That evening too, as we walked out Quigley, it was too dark to say for sure, but every time a skyrocket went off, I noticed the same fleeting phenomena. Thinking back on it now, Lana chose a path, so we wouldn’t walk past any mercury vapor streetlamps. She seemed utterly determined to not reveal anything to me about her darkness.

*

What was I to make of this? Actually I hadn’t thought much about it since the holiday, and even less recently, now that sweet Amy had become a larger part of my life. Still though, there was something irresistible about Lana, and if she wasn’t way down in L.A., I would probably be more obsessed with her. Meanwhile, Amy graciously accepted the sage pendulum I had purchased from Holli Jewelers. After determining which way indicated ‘yes’ for her, Amy made it swing in a positive direction over dozens of queries. Finally, I asked her to focus on something to make the pendulum sway another way, and when she did, I sensed that she was asking the universe about Lana.

*

Since it was a school night, and I still needed to conduct some tests on the antenna in my home lab, Amy and I parted ways at McClain’s. After a few hours in the lab, I felt as though I was making some progress on the underground project, when suddenly both cockatiels started squawking up a storm. I laid down my earphones and heard a squeak at the front door. When I tried to flip the porch light on, it was burned out. By the light of the waning moon, I saw an unfamiliar car in my driveway – an expensive looking pink Porsche with shaded windows. To show I was unafraid, I thrust open the front door with great force and knocked the perpetrator to the end of the porch and head over heels into the birdbath. Lo and behold, it was Lana! And she was dressed to the tees there to surprise me. Now all soaked, I tried to yank her out of the birdbath, but it was unstable, and when I grabbed her wrist, we both came crashing down onto my obsidian mirror sundial. Lana said, “You’re all wet, Max Rudolph and about as clumsy as Maxwell Smart!” The water was warm in the nice evening as we lay together, catching our breaths with the cockatiels cooing in the background. It was amazing how fast my old feelings started rushing back again in Lana’s alluring presence, and suddenly I suspended my earlier criticisms, making myself blind to those silly questions about her elusive shadow.

*

About the author: Jim Banholzer once visited the Enola Gay warplane at the Smithsonian Institution, where he noticed that the lighting of the museum was such that no shadow was cast beneath the Bombay doors from where our first nuclear bomb exited.

Measuring Amy’s mood

It was great to be back at school instructing, and the first day was an emotional one for many of the parents, dropping their children off and snapping Polaroid’s for posterity. Some of my science class students had participated in the Chalk Cave spring field trip; so after we held a discussion about improving cave communications, half the class decided to work on a project for developing the newfangled underground antenna to further refinement.

After class, I walked down the quiet hall, carrying one of the multi-pronged antennas out to the van, when Amy suddenly whipped around the corner and one of my metal tentacles snagged on her golden hair. It took a few minutes for me to untangle her; and while brushing against Amy, I remembered the sensual flying dream we had experienced. Then as she looked at me with an unsettled gaze, I realized that I had absent-mindedly forgotten to tell her about the soaring dream! I guess it was so vivid, that I subconsciously assumed she already knew about it. But now with reality back on the radar, I folded the transmitter up, grabbed Amy’s hand in the hallway, and started to recollect the dramatic dream, demonstrating how we steered in the sky by using each others wrists as joysticks.

Amy smiled a few times, as I went on with the tale. At the part, where she showed me how to control our altitude through breathing; she said it felt like a fantasy straight out of Hesse’s Demian. Then, as I tried to ask Amy how her classes were going, she shot out, “Why haven’t you called me for three weeks, Max Rudolph!” I was left speechless, and after we parted ways, all the way home with the antenna annoyingly rattling around in the back of the pantechnicon; I realized that I should find a way to make it up to her.

While cruising north, the new speed limit of 45, gave me some constructive time to plan how to make things right again with Amy. The antenna bouncing around in the back, reminded me of various other unseen communication channels. Then it dawned on me that I should travel up to Hollie Jewelers to find Amy a pendulum so she can read my true intentions. As I walked into the jewelry store its high vibration reminded me of a holistic healing center or perhaps a church. While Leanne laid out a small array of pendulums on the counter, I immediately saw which one was Amy’s. It was the sage-green one; earthy, with tiny specks of star-shine glittering from its outer edge cuts. Leanne, kindly allowed me test the pendulum, and when I asked if it was right for Amy, it spun wildly in an affirmative direction.

I left Hollie Jewelers with a secure feeling of joy in my heart. The gift-wrapped pendulum would be a unique way to open the door for Amy to accept my apology. I even remembered to charge my cell phone this time, and as I drove the 45 mph back down valley, I called and asked if she could meet me again over at McClain’s Pizza, where I would surprise her with the dynamic gift.

About the author: Jim Banholzer has been practicing driving his pantechnicon at 45 mph in anticipation of the healthy new speed limit reduction.

Speed limit reductions have certain benefits

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Speed limit reductions have certain benefits

At first glance, the hard news that the speed limit between Ketchum and Hailey will be reduced to 45 may feel like a drag, but at the same time it can be healthy for us to remember that there are several benefits to this sweeping change.

When our traffic flows at 45, it will lessen animal / vehicle encounters. Not only will this horrible carnage of large mammals and peoples pets be reduced; but also the moderate speeds will give motorists smoother opportunities to merge into traffic, as well as offering us shorter braking distances for various quick emergencies, and improving fuel efficiency for most vehicles.

Furthermore, slowing down could inspire some motorists to better appreciate our valley’s scenic corridor. Cognizant drivers and passengers will have more time to soak up its sunny splendor, as the 45 mph will gift us with an ideal traveling rate for cloud-watching; constructively daydreaming about the physics of angels, or perhaps for better organizing in our heads, letters to the editor about other ways to improve the valley. Soon, the locals who have decided to live here and the tourists who enjoy visiting, who only blurred by our mid-valley majesty before, will begin noticing slow-motion trees in pocket-parks for later hugs.

Slower limits will give bus commuters more time to enjoy gazing out the window, or perhaps for absorbing a few more pages of the good book or newspaper they’re reading. Speed kills, and as Kris Stoffer points out in a recently related letter, many beloved community members have lost their lives or health on the human highway, and the time for this grand paradigm shift to an unhurried speed has now arrived.