Yaviza Wanted Poster

Someday, maybe, I'll write about a journey I took in 2010 by piragua, up a winding jungle river, to a remote Indian village in the Darien Province of Panama. For now, I'll simply write about this wanted poster nailed to a tree in the small town of Yaviza, on the banks of the Rio Chucunaque, where the river journey began. One can drive from Alaska to Panama and the road ends at Yaviza. Panama has not continued the road to Colombia largely due to the activity of Colombian FARC guerrillas. The guerrillas operate across the border (from Yaviza, about twenty-five miles) and sometimes they seek safety within Panama. The Panamanian government is stepping up their operations against these incursions, hence the reward offered in the poster.

In October 2010, a few months after I took the photo, the Colombian military attacked a FARC camp near the Panama border, and killed five guerrillas, including Gilberto Torres, shown at left in the photo.

Another Visit to Occupy Sacramento

Wanting to get a better sense of this Occupy movement, I returned to Caesar Chavez Park in Sacramento on Saturday, November 5. This day's event was the Boycott the Bankster's march on two local banks.

I saw that the Industrial Workers of the World - the Wobblies - is still around. They had set up a table with informational literature. I counted only three of them, each carrying a flag. One flag had the iconic Che Guevara image in black against a red background, with the words "Hasta La Victoria Siempre." Another flag, with red background, had "IWW" and its logo crudely drawn on it. I didn't recognize the red and black third flag, but found on a later Internet search that it was the Anarchist Communism flag.

Yeah, just try your anarchy in a communist totalitarian state. Che would have had you executed on the spot.

I saw a few Guy Fawkes masks.

And profanity.

Speakers with bullhorns gathered the people around and gave them instructions for the march. Stay together. Don't smash any windows. Don't enter the banks.

The crowd then took off for the banks. Staying to the back, I struck up a conversation with another photographer, and thus found a kindred spirit, a conservative who just wanted to check out this Occupy thing. We discussed politics and economics as we walked.

The crowd briefly lined up outside the Bank of America building, but soon made its way to Wells Fargo Bank, which had plaza outside the entry more amenable for an assembly.

The gathering was largely peaceful. However, at one point a speaker started to rail about the money inside the bank belonging to The People, and for a few moments I wondered if some of the protesters would demand entry. The Wells Fargo guards had locked the doors and were allowing only bank customers inside. (How many customers saw the protest and avoided the bank?) But things cooled off and the crowd went back to listening to speeches and chanting and singing songs.

A few California Highway Patrol troopers and Sacramento Police officers on bicycles were monitoring events.

The protest was winding down and I decided to leave. I walked by two Sacramento Police officers and told them that I greatly appreciated them for what they do. They smiled and said thank you.

Occupy Sacramento

There's a movement afoot nationwide called Occupy Wall Street, alternately We are the 99%, and the local manifestation has set itself up in Caesar Chavez Park in Sacramento, seemingly with the intention of staying put until the System comes Down. This afternoon I went to see for myself what the fuss was all about.

Here was the command post.

Signs, most of them crudely done, were placed around the fountain.

This was the most offensive sign. Che Guevara was a murderous thug who should not be venerated.

Although unintended by its maker, this sign more than any other told of the freedoms lost in this country.

Not a lot of people in the park for the event. The park had its normal share of winos stretched out on the grass enjoying a gorgeous California autumn afteroon. For the event participants, a few were Rasta dreadlock riff-raff losers, most just your everyday left-leaning folks.

Wanting to get down to details, I asked the two young women below what this movement wanted. The woman on the left did all the talking. She first said I could go to a booth to get more information. I pressed her, asking her to give me just three things this movement wanted. She said: 1) End Wall Street contributions to the political process, 2) Stop allowing Wall Street corporations to act as a private individual, 3) End some act (I forget the name) which benefits Wall Street corporations. I told her I was picking up a common theme, the movement did not like Wall Street. Were they opposed to capitalism? She said no. Although many protestors were against capitalism, the movement itself is only against the influence Wall Street has on the economy.

Both women were very polite, and I thanked them for the information.

Still, I didn't get any pro-capitalism/free market vibes from this movement.

When the temperatures drop and the rains come, when things get uncomfortable, I'm sure these folks will de-Occupy Sacramento.

Indian Grinding Rocks

When you take the time to just poke around, you can find some interesting things.

I was poking around Moody Ridge this morning, looking for a good view of Giant Gap.

In my meanderings I saw three piles of bear scat. No black bear sightings, though.

Bushwhacking a bit in my return to my truck, I saw a slate outcrop nearby. I said to myself, "Self, long before the arrival of the Americans, the Nisenan likely camped here, and their women ground acorns into meal amongst those rocks. If so, there will be holes in the rocks from their centuries of grinding." So I walked to the outcrop, and sure enough, there were holes in the rocks.

A bulldozer blade scraped the surrounding area clean years ago. Any artifacts once scattered about here are long gone.

Camp Far West

In the days of the California Trail, the towering Sierra Nevada was the final obstacle of an arduous journey. Emigrants taking the Truckee Trail route, over Stephens Pass (better known as Donner Pass), would reach the Great Valley at the spot now known as Camp Far West. Some would rest here, and a few buried their dead. They continued to nearby Johnson's Ranch, the end of the trail, and then dispersed throughout California to seek their fortunes.

Emigrants passed here from 1844 to 1878. The Donner Party survivors came this way.

The army had an outpost here from 1849 to 1852, to protect miners from Indian attack. However, the miners were often better armed than the soldiers, and many soldiers deserted to try their hand at mining. Duty at Camp Far West was not pleasant.

Today, all that remains of Camp Far West is a small cemetery surrounded by a low stone wall. The earliest burial dates to possibly 1844. There are believed to be thirty graves. The names of four soldiers are recorded, the other dead are unknown.

In 1911, the Native Sons of the Golden West erected a monument commemorating the pioneers buried here. Inside it they placed souvenirs and papers. The Native Daughters of the Golden West erected the stone wall in 1950.

Then vandals came and opened the monument and took the souvenirs and papers.

Camp Far West is now on private land. Access is through permission of the ranch owner. I explained I had an amateur interest in history and was allowed entry. I had the cemetery coordinates plugged into my GPS, and easily found the site. This little piece of California's early history is largely forgotten.

Wagon ruts can still be seen on the Overland Emigrant Trail
a few miles east of Camp Far West

Fort Churchill

Between 1861 and 1869, the Fort Churchill garrison protected Nevada citizens from hostile Indians. After the troops departed, the Federal government auctioned the buildings for $750, and the buyers removed the valuable wood roofing. Over the years, with each rainfall, the exposed adobe walls further dissolved into the ground.

During the Great Depression, the Civilian Conservation Corps began restoration work on the ruins, with the idea of keeping them in a state of arrested decay. The work continues to this day. Indeed, there may be more restored adobe than original in those photogenic walls.

Giant Gap

A pencil drawing I did of Giant Gap on the

North Fork of the American River

Iglesia La Merced

The Panama City of today is a sprawling mess, but up to about a century ago, when the United States started building the canal, it stemmed from the area known as Casco Viejo. My wife's family lived right by this colonial section (they were from San Felipe), and they attended the Church of Our Lady of Mercy, or Iglesia La Merced. My wife had her first communion in this church, and the mass in memory of her father was held there.

When I arrived in Panama long ago, Spanish colonial history was not the first thing on my mind. Only a few years ago, when my wife and I began our return travels together to Panama, did I take an interest in the history and architecture of Casco Viejo.

Iglesia La Merced first stood in the original Ciudad Panama (now Panama Viejo), and it was one of the few major buildings to survive the pirate Henry Morgan's attack of 1671. When the city relocated to a more defensible position a few years later, the facade of Iglesia La Merced was moved stone by stone to its present site.

After a trip to Panama a few years ago, I researched the history of Iglesia La Merced, and learned that it was in that church, when it stood at its original site, that the conquistador Francisco Pizarro and his men held their last communion, before departing Panama for the conquest of Peru.

When I told this to my wife, she said she never knew that, and then she went on with whatever she was doing.

From The History Of The Conquest Of Peru, by William H. Prescott (1847)


"On St. John the Evangelist's day, the banners of the company and the royal standard were consecrated in the cathedral church of Panama; a sermon was preached before the little army by Fray Juan de Vargas, one of the Dominicans selected by the government for the Peruvian mission; and mass was performed, and the sacrament administered to every soldier previous to his engaging in the crusade against the infidel. *13 Having thus solemnly invoked the blessing of Heaven on the enterprise, Pizarro and his followers went on board their vessels, which rode at anchor in the Bay of Panama, and early in January, 1531, sallied forth on his third and last expedition for the conquest of Peru."


[Footnote 13: "El qual haviendo hecho bendecir en la Iglesia mayor las banderas i estandarte real dia de San Juan Evangelista de dicho ano de 1530, i que todos los soldados confesasen i comulgasen en el convento de Nuestra Senora de la Merced, dia de los Inocentes en la misa cantada que se celebro con toda solemnidad i sermon que predico el P. Presentdo Fr. Juan de Vargas, uno de los 5 religiosos que en cumplimiento de la obediencia de sus prelados i orden del Emperador pasaban a la conquista." Naharro, Relacion Sumaria, Ms.]

Wild Kat Ranch

Just south of Mina, 61.73 miles down the road from Berlin, Nevada.

The Nevada Ghost Town of Berlin

Berlin is a state park today because it somehow escaped the destruction that befell so many abandoned mining towns in Nevada.

The park brochure tells us: "During its heyday, Berlin and its Union suburbs supported 200-250 people including miners, woodcutters, charcoal makers, a doctor and a nurse, a forest ranger and a prostitute."

The Berlin Mine was in operation between 1898 and 1911. When it closed, the citizens moved away.

Now the nearest prostitutes are at the Wild Kat Ranch, just south of Mina, 61.73 miles down the road.

On October 7, 2001, as I was pulling my truck into a gas station in Fallon, enroute to Berlin, I heard over the radio that we had begun our attack on Afghanistan. Continuing on, I listened intently to the news until the radio reception faded away. The AM and FM broadcasts we take for granted did not reach these parts of the Great Basin Desert. At Berlin, there was a ranger or two at the park entry, and a few miles uphill, at the other end of the campground, was one other person. Essentially I was alone. I set up camp and turned on my shortwave radio. For the rest of that cold evening, I sat at the camp table next to the lantern, and at times I walked into the darkness to gaze at the countless stars overhead, all the while listening to announcers from the British Broadcasting Corporation giving updates on the invasion.

Euchre Bar Trail

Getting to the North Fork of the American River is soooo easy. You just park near the trailhead at Iron Point (elevation 3,720 ft) and walk 1.27 miles to the footbridge (elevation 1,897 ft). From there, it's pretty level all around. Poke around the old mining areas. Look at the glacial moraines. And then, when your leg muscles are good and tight, start that 1,823 foot climb on the 6,706 foot trail back to your vehicle. For every ten feet of trail, that's 2.7 feet higher. Just an average, though - there's one stretch that's a real bear.

When trudging uphill, remind yourself that this is about the easiest access to this section of the river.

I usually make Euchre Bar Trail my first strenuous hike of the year. I go when my legs are good and out of shape.

I remember one particularly exhausting hike up that old miner's trail. It was on March 28, 2004. I met Russell Towle and his hiking friend by the bridge. Russell invited me to accompany them further up the river, but I judged I had only enough energy to get back to my truck. Four months later, I was at home recovering from open heart surgery for mitral valve prolapse.

Enough talk! Let's hike to the river!

First, park your vehicle. Set the brake, then look at Giant Gap. Commence the hike downhill. Look at the river far, far below.

You reach the river quickly enough. Take time to poke around the old mining sites. Look at the polished rocks from the glacial moraine. Stop halfway across the bridge and look up the river. A lot of gold was pulled out of this area. Walk across the bridge and take one look back.

You pass several mining sites. Some are terraces that date to the first miners, who leveled the steep hillsides to make their camps. The last mining boom was during the Great Depression. So the debris at these sites ranges from the early 1850s to the late 1930s.

The hike is mostly level back to the bridge. Before commencing the uphill portion, say hello to the recreational goldpanner at the base of the bridge.

Return to your vehicle. Drive home. Drink two bottles of cold Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.