Old School Arizona

[rbt]

I was at the Filmore a few time caught BB & John lee on a doubling billing I think I still have the ticket stubs if I can find them I will look.

There are no "GOOD OLE DAYS " these are them for most living today so enjoy today. For nothing I see will ever look as bad as behind LOL.

 

[Madjag]

I agree....these are the good old days. Everyday is a gift.

 

[Madjag]

Thanks for the kind words and the great picture, bushweed. I love the shots of the thai weed on your profile.

This is Madjag's world, but I appreciate his inspiration and allowing me to riff off his memories. I figure I better get them in writing before the memory goes or they will be gone forever.

Sforza, RBT, Wolfhound, and Twisted T

This is your playground as much as mine. Mofeta created this thread as an Arizona mecca, past and present. I am happy that Sforza has gotten the ball rolling cause I feel that we could use a number of voices telling tales and sharing new experiences as well.

It's karmic that Sforza and I have so many links; Negril Jamaica, outdoor growing, and both owning land/homes within 40 miles of each other. I'm sure there's more.

I feel the same when I hear Wolfhoundaddy mention Prescott or the Bradshaw mtns that he worked in, or when someone asks about Fossil Creek or West Clear Creek. It resounds in my heart, cause I love Arizona particularly.

I collect topo maps, how 'bout y'all?

 

[Sforza]

I was at the Filmore a few time caught BB & John lee on a doubling billing I think I still have the ticket stubs if I can find them I will look.

That must have been a hell of a show. I was born in Detroit and have always been a John Lee Hooker fan, but I never saw him live. I did see BB once. Now I listen to BB's station on Sirius when I am not listening to the Joint.

I never saw a concert at the Filmore, but I did meet a guy at the Filmore East to buy a thousand hits of Orange Barrel LSD.

 

[Sforza]

I am heading up to Denver for work in April. I will be flying from Denver to Phoenix to work on the ranch for a week after Easter. I guess that means I will miss the High Times cup on 4/20. That is OK, because I am subject to random drug tests for work, so I have to stay clean. They even do hair testing, which I understand can test positive for up to 90 days when they do the test on body hair, which is how they test me because I keep my hair so short now.

As you can see from my other pictures, I used to keep my hair long.

This is one of me visiting the ranch back when my father was alive.

You can see the scar under my left eye from a car accident in Negril. If it had been a little higher, I would have lost that eye. But that was not my fate.

 

[Sforza]

Sforza, RBT, Wolfhound, and Twisted T

This is your playground as much as mine. Mofeta created this thread as an Arizona mecca, past and present. I am happy that Sforza has gotten the ball rolling cause I feel that we could use a number of voices telling tales and sharing new experiences as well.

It's karmic that Sforza and I have so many links; Negril Jamaica, outdoor growing, and both owning land/homes within 40 miles of each other. I'm sure there's more.

Thanks for your encouragement, Madjag, but it was reading all your great stories about your life that got me thinking about those days and how I had some similar experiences and wanting to share them. I got a kick out of reading about rbt getting popped in Globe. I could picture what he was going through and admire the way he handled the situation.

Here is a shot of some Jamaican ganja taken on a table in a room in the Hedonism resort.

It was just a little personal stash along with some doublewide ZigZag papers.

 

[Sforza]

Santa Cruz

Santa Cruz

I have a little time today. Not much happening at work, so I can relate my Peter Tosh in Santa Cruz, CA story.

I always liked Tosh. I first heard him and Mick Jagger singing “Walk and Don’t Look Back” in Kingston after returning from a lengthy stay in South America.

Although the show was great, that is not what made the night memorable, as I have been to many great musical shows over the years. It usually takes something extra to really make an event stick in my memory, like the Johnny Winter concert where my friend and I were standing up near the stage and I smoked so many joints with hash oil that my field of vision slowly narrowed until eventually I was standing there unable to see anything at all, but still conscious, able to hear the music, and unhappy about the thought of being about to keel over and getting stepped on.

Before I passed out, I figured out that if I could get my head a little lower, I could get some blood to my brain so I bent forward and put my hands on my knees. Ever so gradually, in a reverse of the slow motion blackout I had just been through, my vision came back and I was eventually able to stand up straight and enjoy the rest of the concert, but it was close.

Or the time I saw Richie Havens and Taj Mahal at the Syria Mosque after smoking some excellent red Lebanese hash for the first time. Even movies can be memorable such as Yellow Submarine behind some excellent psilocybin, Lawrence of Arabia at a theater in Long Island after smoking blond Lebanese, and the original Raiders of the Lost Ark in Campbell after smoking a jay of Humboldt County’s finest.

In fact, I took the same girl to see Raiders of the Lost Ark to see Tosh at The Catalyst in Santa Cruz, CA. She was a stunningly beautiful Filipina. A spoiled doctor’s daughter, she had a steady boyfriend, but I managed to overcome her scruples and date her on occasion.

She had a nice little apartment with a girlfriend in Los Gatos. Her girlfriend did not like me. The first night we made love, we went from making out on the couch in the living room to the floor, where she got rug burns on her back on her protruding vertebrae and I got some on my knees. A small price to pay. I then lifted her in my arms, light as a feather, and carried her to her bedroom where she make so much noise during round two that it disturbed her roommate’s sleep. That is why the roommate supposedly didn’t like me. Knowing women, it was probably just jealousy that she was not having sex that was nearly as interesting, exciting, and long lasting as what she was hearing going on in the next room.

The night of the Tosh show I picked up the gorgeous little doll at her place. This was Northern California in 1980. As we all know, Californians love their cars. She had the cutest restored Karmann Ghia.

Me, I had a 1971 four door Oldsmobile Delta 88. It was a faded putrid green. It was an ugly car, but I had suffered some unforeseen reverses in fortune while living in Fort Lauderdale, big old ugly gas guzzlers were cheap, and it was all that I could afford. I loaded up the Olds with all my earthly possessions, which consisted of a fine stereo system and some tee shirts, and headed to California. At least I still had my life and my freedom.

Californians hated my car. I remember once I came out of a mall and I found that someone has scribbled a note and placed it on my windshield under a wiper blade. They went off on me for driving such a big piece of shit. They said that it took up too much parking space and burned too much gas. This was back when Jimmy Carter said we were running out of gas and gas was expensive. Fuck ‘em.

I got a minimum wage job at a plant putting acid in bottles for the local semiconductor industry. Hydrofluoric acid is used to etch silicon wafers and it’s some nasty, potentially fatal stuff. In a couple months, I was running the acid department, since I had chemistry in collage and I wasn’t afraid to work.

One day, after going to the local park and having a smoke and a beer for lunch as was our routine, I had a couple guys from my crew in my car heading back to work. Another of my crew had just bought a used Datsun 270Z and he tried to pass me, but the old green monster with a V8 had more straight ahead grunt than his sports car.

Working a minimum wage job and driving a piece of shit is not the optimum situation for being able to meet and bed babes, but I did it anyway. There is nothing like single-minded determination and persistence when it comes to getting what you want in life, particularly when it comes to the fair sex. They know when they are wanted, really wanted.

From Los Gatos we headed over the Santa Cruz Mountains to Santa Cruz. This entailed driving on SR 17. This is a nasty, twisty, evil little road, also potentially fatal. There were a lot of accidents on the road back then due to it being so narrow, with no shoulders, an embankment on one side and a concrete divider on the other. Looking at the many long black streaks on the divider, one could see that many drivers had not managed to make the many tight curves unscathed.

I had not had much to smoke before I picked up my petite Oriental Pearl and nothing to drink, so I uneventfully manhandled the hulking beast up and over the summit to the Catalyst for the show.
They had a bar in the club and I had a couple of double rum and cokes to warm up and a few more during the show. My girl also had a drink or two. The drinks were unusually stiff and I had not been doing much drinking, so I had a strong alcohol buzz going on. I also had a couple of joints of good herb, which I smoked during Tosh’s performance and she took a couple of hits too.

Tosh was excellent, really getting into his performance, and the room was relatively small so we were standing quite near the stage as he went through his entire repertoire. I enjoyed the show and she seemed to like it too, although she certainly was not as enthusiastic in her applause as me.

The concert ended and it was time to drive back over the mountain to Los Gatos to consummate the evening. The road was every bit as twisty as it was on the way over, but the traffic was gone since it was now late. Little bit slid over on the bench seat and snuggled up next to me, my right arm draped around her shoulders. As we headed back to Los Gatos, I slipped my right hand under her blouse and cupped her braless breast, which was a perfect handful.

High beams on, high on bud and rum, playing with her nipple, I guided the Olds and her precious cargo with intense concentration through the countless curves and down the mountain to Los Gatos in record time.

After the excellent concert, the drinks and weed, the roller coaster thrill ride down the mountain, and having her tit played with for half an hour, my sloe-eyed beauty was nearly as eager for sex as I was once we made it to her place safely. Oh what a night. What a lady; what a night.

 

[Madjag]

Sacred Herb to the rescue once again....

 

[wolfhoundaddy]

I try to stay in the 'here and now' to save on worry, but occasionally like to slip back in time to events that give me a warm and cozy. Most of these events are nature related... seeing my first bighorn on the Tonto plateau...he looked at me,I looked at him...sitting in a dry camp on a solo hike while a herd of 30 burros of MANY colors with their babys ghosted through my camp...(that was out near Grandview and before they relocated them)...I swear I saw a wolf in the forest at the edge of Grand Canyon Village...two buck elk scared the hell outa me midnight at the canyon...pink rattler on the Bright Angel trail...and a dream I never forget of a flock of peyote birds glowing off and on and on in the gentle twilight of dawn at the Canyon.
Let the hiking stick ring.

MadJ, I once had the whole state of Az. on topos,taped together. Got that from a mining co. that rented an office at the old masonic blg.in Prescott. The ones I covet were published before the forest service went to trail #'s instead. I have a copy of the Bradshaw Mining district from around the early 1900's showing existing and older mine locations.
Thanks for the mammories.

 

[Mustafunk]

Great thread MadJag and the rest of the guys, I enjoyed a lot reading all this old stories from the past... for an instance, I was almost imagining myself in one of those Arizona deserts while smoking some primo Guerreran or Oaxacan weed harvested in the Mogollon Rim! What a bliss! Now I want to grow mexican sativas damn!

Good vibes fellas!

 

[Raco]

yeah great thread!

 

[rbt]

The ONE reason to legalize Marijuana. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LpIyaIHsJbc This hits home for me in more ways than one Mi Familia. And stopping home growing with ridiculous restrictions like plant count and not square area. I have never seen anybody harvest 5 stalks of corn/wheat only a crop of a garden, not a window box. I will be growing my second grow of cannotonic It is unbelievable the nerve and muscle relief it gives in butter mixed with a northern skunk 70/30 I have so much mobility back. This has already helped so many around me.

: "If a law is unjust, a man is not only right to disobey it, he is obligated to do so." Thomas Jefferson,

That's my rant for now just asking for one to think if I wanted Nyquil should I need to go to a state controlled Liquor store to get it ? I know teenagers have been known to drink it to get drunk.

 

[1TWISTEDTRUCKER]

rbt, You mention nerve relief from catatonic.
My wife suffers from fibromyalgia related neuropathy.
Have You seen this help with neuropathy, in You circle of friends.

Every time I see MMj give quality of LIFE back to Folks, in essence giving Them Their lives back,,, well it makes Me want to slap the shit outta Self Righteous, Closed Mind FOOLS.

Glad to hear Your doing better, and sorry for the rant.

Peace-N- LOVE; 1TT

 

[rbt]

rbt, You mention nerve relief from catatonic.
My wife suffers from fibromyalgia related neuropathy.
Have You seen this help with neuropathy, in You circle of friends.

Twisted the reason I went to cannabis as a therapy and a late development MS I had it all along I am told. Since I guess my pain tolerance is or was pretty high but not the bodies, time has won again. I go to a Vietnamese Apothecary in Agua Prieta and my weird but very intelligent sister a holistic person. Has introduced me to this and in an edible I feel I am cheating time. I am not a doctor or a medical person I cant wont give advise on what path a person should follow but this has done wonders for me.

 

[rbt]

Sforza I like the old Olds. corners like the USS Forstal. Get up some Revs in the hole she would go. I had use of a 57 Desoto Firelite with a 345 hemi with twin carter 4 barrels. back in the 60's & 70's when I was driving Nevada there was no speed limit outside of towns. it was easy to cruise 120 to 140 if you could handle the wavy-ness of the roads. Mustangs at the time and Corvettes even the Ferraris couldn't keep up on those roads. there was a huge Black Sheriff that patrolled between Wendover and Ely he patrolled in the Desoto Adventure model and he knew the road every bend and cranny. My uncle was driving and that Deputy was on our ass at time I thought he was trying to ram the back on the turns. As fate would have it was early in the morning and a tanker Collet Tank lines hauling liquid nitrogen we missed the turn swing wide hit the shoulder and spun up an embankment. The Deputy hit the liquid nito that had spilled in the road and froze it to a degree that Ice Road Truckers would fear. He then went out of control up the embankment and over the crest I guess we was doing 90+. I still think that SOB was trying to take us out by cutting the corner and hitting our rear. We snuck away over the Utha Okr Mountains the deputy did not fare well I regret that to this day and have layed flowers.
These time and stories are they really worth anything but a laugh but mostly strife and suffrage. I spent 30 days on a chain gang for possession in Texas but the charge was vagrancy. They put me on a work farm picking and handling sugar beets. Stocking the crates in a earthling shelter I found this very old wilted sugar beet it more looked like an old carrot. I stuffed into my briefs and a little later a big buck decided he like my trim and wanted a feel. That beet was AMAZING I have never seen a black Jack that had the effect of the beet. Two hard whoops to the eyes and a couple to the side of the head he went down like a sack of dirt. It was at the sh--ter inside no one saw what happened he was in the infirmary when I got out in my 30 nobody messed with me LMAO now but it could have been devastating to so many I have been very lucky in my life. was it Luck or Divine intervention I wonder.
The fantastic gift to be raised in the west as my play ground the freedoms I had. My Grandfather a WW1 vet mustard gassed in the trenches of Verdun Sent to Tucson took a lung had TB gave him a distillers permit during the Prohibition. With that he went to the mining camps in Co. to sell Moonshine. He Married his English Nurse in Liverpool she was a second generation from Nigeria. My father then went to WW2 from Santa Fe an was in Corregidor Philippines. Was a POW in Battan upon being repatriated Married my Mother and converted from Hebrew to LDS. so to sum it up I am from Hebrew Black Dutch English Ancestry living among religious polygamists and bootleggers. Basically in those times a huge part of any society I was in I was hated. They needed that to validate the fears and beliefs but here I am most of those fears people had are gone and HERE I AM LMAO I WON!!!. THIS IS ARIZONA. A BLESSING.

 

[MJPassion]

Oh man... what adventures some of you guys n gals had!
I spent a couple years in Phoenix for school and had a lot of fun while I was there. Nothing like yalls stories though.

This has got to be one of the best threads on IC if for nothing more than the adventure.

Me... not from or in AZ but I can see the San Fracisco peaks if I can get high enough. The drive down I17 from Flagstaff to Phoenix goes through some beautiful country. I recall going camping near a place called Strawberry one weekend. What a beautiful place.

I currently live on top of the great CO Plateu and get AZ all over my crop from the monsoons. The picture of the dirt wall heading toward Pheonix was one that I got to see twice while I was there. That shit blew my mind, seeing it.

I recall, right before I moved away from AZ, I was getting QPs of some really good mexican weed (98-99). I know ut wasn't the heirlooms/landraces from the south because the buds were just too fat and it was mostly body effects. It was pretty damn good however, consideringbitcwas only $200... It is, in my limited experience, the best to come out of mex ... but then again, we haven't had the strains of yesteryear up this far north in quite some time. The last mexican I was ever around was a few years ago. I wouldn't smoke that moldy paraquat infested shit if I was out of my homegrown & my brother & his friends didn't want my homegrown... They all eventually changed their minds and now grow theirs as well.

MadJag, your stories are very inspiritational, as are the others. I'm glad you and others took the time to document your experiences to share with others.

Thank you and please don't stop telling of your adventures. I very much enjoy reading about them.

Hmmm... I think I may have to see how far the M.(?) Rim us away from me now... ;D

 

[Madjag]

If you camped near Strawberry, perhaps you drove down the intense dirt road switchbacks on the Camp Verde connector road and partied at Fossil Creek. it has to be one of the backroad wonders of the southwest.

 

[DIDM]

my cousin went to AZ state

he would bring back some great Mexican, not brick, nice sativa buds

it was like 10 bucks an oz back then, I was stoked every time he came back to visit in those years

 

[Madjag]

We once were expecting a load from Mexico, the 500 kilos I mentioned in another post that took up so much room in a white, stretch panel van that we ended up with 3 of the 20 lb bundles up front in the passenger side covered with a few jackets and towels. You could smell the van 50 feet away, we discovered, when we got it to Phoenix later and parked on the street, awaiting a friend to arrive.

Paranoia strikes deep.....

Anyway......we had a remote airstrip in Northern Arizona that was outside of a small town. The 10 mile dirt road that went past the airport and on to other private ranches and cabins further out was unpredictable when it came to traffic. Some days only 5 vehicles might pass that way; other days only 2 early in the morning; and on vacation weekends it could see 20 campers or hunters going past at odd times.

We rented a 2 ton flatbed truck from U-Haul and drove it 200 miles to the remote airstrip area. One of my guys camped in it overnight since we were expecting the load at 8am precisely. The airstrip was above the passing road which passed by through a dry riverbed gully about 40 feet below the strip area. We had the truck parked in the middle of the road pretending that it was broken down. This would make any vehicles coming from the town direction stop well out of sight from the airstrip above. My friend stood next to the truck, ready, just in case any vehicles came along the road so he could quickly lie under the truck and play the role. He had disconnected a wire to the strarter so that it truly couldn't move.

Good thing he did so and that we went that far like Mission Impossible. Two rancher-type vehicles arrived at 10 minutes to 8am and were blocked by Jon at the flat bed. It was in a perfect spot so no one could drive around it on the basically one-lane wide dirt track. One rancher got extra-helpful and climbed into our flatbed to "help" start it. It turned over and over with no start, just the solenoid trying its best. While this drama was playing out below us, the Sinaloan Air Force Cessna did an immediate landing without even a one-time fly-by as a safety check (for rocks or animals on the runway) and began kicking out 20 pound, cellophane-wrapped bales of primo mountain sinsemilla.

Our panel van was at the loading end so they just taxied up nearby to begin the unloading process. The pilot and his helper finished in what seemed like a mere 3 minutes, gunned their motor, and blew off the runway and back to Old Mexico. Their job in all of this was finished far before our two guys could load the panel van so there was this big pile of bales lying on the open runway. Good thing we blocked the road because it was very obvious what the airplane noise was connected to. If someone had driven by it would have been a mess. It was pre-cell phone days back then in 1982 but many ranchers had CBs (Citizen Band radios) or even a few had wireless FM radios to connect to their ranch's telephone land line.

Hard to imagine how the Sinaloan Air Force could be on time coming from 500+ miles away in a twin Cessna tail-dragger, but they were within 3 minutes of the exact hour. They would cross the border flying 200 feet above the ground surface balls-to-the-wall. No GPS back then and these guys had never even visited our strip. We showed them on a map a month before and they used the current aviation maps, the most accurate for pilots back then, to pinpoint where it was.
Our boys finally got all the bales into the van and drove down into the gully and stopped when they came to the "broken down" flatbed truck. This signaled Jon to quickly re-attach the starter cable and ask the rancher to give it another try. It started immediately, of course, and the flatbed moved toward the wide space in the road where there was room to get past the van and continue on. The two ranch trucks also passed our Sinsemilla van, waved thanks, and disappeared. The van moved on down the road, taking a back way to the main paved highway that then carried it on down to the Phoenix valley. The rest is history as this fine herb made its way to its final destination in New York city and Brooklyn.

Mission Impossible has its uses so hold onto those cones and road signs.
You just never know.....

 

[mack 10]

^^Love it!