A flat place to rehab my back and still get away from it all. A void space between Haze County’s 2 primary towns of Blue Mountain and Boulder. A home away from home of sorts. Jenny Lane, all grown up as it were and lacking in signage if not tell-tale weeds.
Won’t be there forever; trying to enjoy while I can. Got a reading tree which is apple, etc. Wedding chapel just beyond one end…
… Barney car just beyond the other. Barney car! We’ve been here before.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0416, Blue Mountain, Boulder
The Big Boss had many disguises for her many clients. “Next!” she called to the one currently struggling to get over the front door. Fear of snakes, this Brunhilda had. So she prepared in kind. Copperhead the supervillain she becomes, nemesis of Batman and Superman alike, throw in a couple of Aquaman tales ta boot. Traveler of space and time.
“Am Iiiii nothinggg?” she hissed to start, setting the paranoid tone. She was still using the power of the mountain which she stood at the top of. Always. Her realm of control. For Al — Alvin — it was fear of psychosis. Let’s see, she mentally checks. Marvin is next, a bed wetter as a child continuing into jr. high, high school and college and even, every now and then, the present. Zappa’s “Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow” should do the trick. Sung by Zappa himself, along with daughter Moon Unit who calls the whole affair grody to the max, and wishes herself to be gagged by a spoon because of it. Have to pay her extra because of the child labor laws at the time, Thomas calculates between Brunhilda’s sobbings and moanings. She holds two big fake rocks in her hands and hisses even louder between them, making sure her face is in darkness yet the long, forked tongue is still exposed. She gathered that from a memory as well. Brunhilda sat down on similar stones with a copperhead wedged between them as a Piedmont teen, setting in motion the whole phobia thing. She faints at the sight. She’s done.
—–
“Next!” Softer, to her side: “Get ready, guys.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0305, Blue Mountain, City Park, The Waste^^
He put her in the corner by the stove while he stood in the opposite one. The sparkles indicated a presents, the here and the now. Aluminum can. She turned and kissed him full on the lips. How could this be? He was 2 dimensional, she was 3. Plus they were about 10 feet apart. Yet here we are, talking about it.
“Is this how you *met*?” Thomas Boyy queried from her desk in her hovel as he illuminated the scene. 2:02 now. He was spilling.
“No. We met a long time ago. August 2016.”
She counted it out. “That’s almost 7 years ago. And she hasn’t gotten old? This *toy*?”
Through him, I thought about slightly earlier. Woods. Platform. “No,” I said, going within. “Not old… besides the 7 year part.”
“No time for jokes here, young man. Spill more!” She checked her watch. Fate dictated they wrap up quickly. She was at the top of the mountain, him: the side; only halfway up still. It was an abyss in there. 31 to 32. Retired
So he illuminated some more, knowing that was the only way to get out of here in one pieces.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0304, Blue Mountain, City Park, County Park, Lands End, Nautilus, The Waste^^, Toy Avatars
It was a Warm Morning when the object crashed into the future site of itself. Early May I believe. THUD!!! The noise attracted the attention of a sore backed nearby hiker, walking in a different dimension but still able to hear because of the loudness. And then the straight line was manufactured backwards for close to a football field in length over 01 02 03 04 gullies. Alvin Straight. Motocyclone. Cylinder Rodman. We continued…
Warm Morning Crash Site: turn here!
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0301, Blue Mountain, County Park, Iowa
He laid down his walking stick to take a picture of what he’d just been through. He was ahead of himself in the virtual world. Time to catch up!
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0217, Blue Mountain, County Park
“You have to understand that Mike’s Creek was manufactured, and not just at the road toward the bottom (above picture). All the way to the top in fact. Study: Middle Cascade.
“The (big piece of) mica (you found on Mike Island) is just an indicator to pay attention. See here! And so (then) you find Mike and Pat together in Missouri (the two greatest coaches, men’s and women’s respectively, in college basketball history).”
“I knew that Mica Island would devolve or atrophy to Mike Island in the future so I just sped up the process,” I defended my naming action, the start of it all. “Mike Island at the bottom of that cascade (you mentioned) is obvious match to 3 Tree Island at the top, which, in turn, is the center of the overarching circular area… which we still don’t have a name for, by the way.”
“Mike’s Creek,” he offered, perhaps the Red Devil himself. Ur Father. “The 2 islands, left and right up and down, are one.”
—–
“You’ve known about me for a long time,” he furthered.
—–
“He showed up because you kept talking about and acting upon his Two Hills. He’s a protective father!”
—–
“(In holding the Devil’s head) He’s just saying he’s inherited the mantel of fatherhood.”
—–
“He was sold by ‘Billfork’. In the present Point of Power.”
“That it?”
“Yeah. Head to bed.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0103, Blue Mountain
Another circle of interest has been created in my ongoing hiking mythology about *Haze County* (left pink circle). Dimensions this time: 0.4 mile radius, 0.5 square mile area, 2.5 mile circumference. This is exactly 1/2 the area of my previous circle of interest centered on what I call Pink Peak (larger pink circle to right), which was one square mile. I believe I’ve pinpointed a center for the new one as well, a kind of island in a stream containing 4 trees. More info soon!
Nearby Blue Mountain with a snow tree on top.
We’ve already featured pics from the inclusive Throne House in the last photo-novel here, now 37 in number. We seemed to have started the 38th with this post. The Throne House may also be called the Tyrone House, with logical results coming up.
Every circle I create seems to have a standy outy rock, sometimes gleaming from a distance. Like this one from the newest, flat against another and purest white in color.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0101, Blue Mountain, Red Hill
He is greeted in Heaven by the Man in the Middle, the Man About Time, some say. Just that damn important.
The knowledge and power of the center of it all, Fife to some, was drying up. Time to heal. Time to drive the Chevy to the levee, or at least a Dodge. Man About Time was waiting. On his heels drunk.
June 14, 2012 – the pond at Fife’s Grove Park. It has since been reconstructed.
The fated journey actually started here In Real Life, in the shadow of Pink Peak and exactly on the perimeter of the encompassing 1 square mile pink circle I’ve put around it. Shine is the place of the drinks. Brookshine, let’s say, a portmanteau of sorts, and with the trailhead of perhaps now inaccessible — because of the poison ivy and all — Mystery Gorge just beyond.
https://bakerbloch.com/2022/04/19/00320507/
Once she was Alysha. He sighs, thinking of his former girlfriend, like if Thelma Lou left Barney for Sherriff Andy Taylor, attracted to the shine of the bigger badge. Another King over Bishop (or Rook) situation, then. Or a King’s Bishop anyhoot.
note: Throne House on the other side of Blue Mtn. from Pink Peak (place of Turtle Head) on this map my actually be Tyrone. Texas Pete. Gonna play with that.
https://bakerbloch.com/2022/04/20/00320509/
“*Miss* Ouri,” Man About Time dutifully wanted to say but held his almost always mild tongue. No need to bring Texas Pete into this, his mama always said about verbal acidities. She trained him well; he absorbed everything he could from her. Poor Mama, he lamented. Hanging with the angels now.
And that’s about the last we see of Man About Time until now, speaking time-wise.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0037, 0608, 0609, Blue Mountain, City Park, Country Park, Red Hill
Blue Mountain from basically the exact opposite direction pictured in post 00370515 of the last section. Yes, as predicted I have moved my hiking emphasis to the back of this mountain now to escape the hotter temperatures and emergence of poison ivy, etc.
Evidence of human activity in the area. Or something else.
The highlight of the day had to be an abandoned house filled with cryptic graffiti. Like multiple warnings on the outer walls about it being a trap. I did not venture too far inside because of this. Thanks!
Question marks abound about the place.
“‘Abandoned’ too,” with 22222… on a door frame.
Upstairs: a throne?
He’s here. Who’s *he*?
After exiting, outdoor sounds like babbling brooks seem sweeter.
Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0037, 0607, Blue Mountain
Sunklands 