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Now I would like to talk about the surrounding area, the type of country we were in on this trip. Even for out- door people like we were, it was so unique, we would probably never get a chance to see an area like it again. There was a game warden who came to the area once in awhile. One morning we had gone to work and he showed up with a big mountain lion in the back of his pickup truck, so my wife got to see it. He told how he would sleep wherever he happened to be at dark, and he always carried his rifle and backpack of supplies. This night, he had gotten too far from his truck, so he decided to camp on the trail on a steep hillside. It was a place the animals walked to get around the area. The game warden told of how in the morning, small rocks above him were dis- lodging and it seemed something was trying to walk around him up above. He eased a cartridge in the rifle chamber and got the mountain lion on the first shot when he saw it. He was really proud of himself because it was a big one and there was a $50 reward for catching mountain lions around there. Just the day before, my wife had asked me to take a look at where we had parked the rig the previous night. There were animal tracks. She wanted to know what they belonged to. It looked like mountain lion tracks to me, but, not wanting to fright- en her, we told her the tracks weren’t clear enough to be sure what animal it was. We said it could have been a coyote. She had the dog with her during the day, so we didn’t think she needed to worry about the possibility of a mountain lion. Needless to say, she wasn’t very happy with us not telling her the truth before she saw the evidence on the truck bed. When the game warden was there, he said if we liked to fish, there was a little lake not far away. He told my wife there was a little town by the lake at one time. He said there wasn’t much to it, except a bar, general store, and prospecting store. He told of how the Chinese prospectors would dig small holes in the hillside in the winter to catch snow, and when it melted, they would use the water to pan with. Well, one winter there was a real heavy snow and, as it melted, the creek ran full force. A landslide took place, and slipping off, it formed a dam across the little canyon. He said the bar owner wasn’t concerned so much about the building, but he had just gotten a much-anticipated barrel of whiskey delivered and it was washed away too! So when we were not working on Sunday, we gathered our fishing gear and went to find the lake. Low and behold, what a sight! You could see the remains of some of the log cabins under the clear water. Further down, you could see the other building materials had come loose and floated to the landslide to further dam it up. I was on one side of the dam and my fa- ther-in-law on the other. I decided I wanted to join him over there where the sun was coming up, so I started out across the logs. When I came to a place I was going to have to jump over to a big log, I asked him if he thought I could make it. He said, “Sure, you can make it.” So I took a run on the log I was on and jumped across. As I hit the other log, I went right on down through it. It was hollow! What a shock that cold water was! After climbing out, I kept right on fishing, catching a good bunch of trout. We had trout for supper that night, and for breakfast the next morning. We took to driving around on Sundays, taking many little roads. We discovered several very small abandoned cabins scat- tered about. The roofs had fallen in from heavy snows, but most had furniture still inside. They appeared to be made with axes, from local wood. I would have liked to take some of the rough furniture home as a souvenir, but we didn’t have room. There’s not much to say about the drilling. We had a little Winter-Weiss Portadrill which belonged to J.R. Simplot, a man who was kind of famous in Idaho. He was a self-made millionaire. People said he had a million dollars for every year, and was then 42 years old. He had mining claims and companies, as well as cattle and sheep ranches. To give you an idea, our rig was the first one Winter-Weiss put an air compressor on. Actually, it wasn’t even an air compressor, it was a booster they used on gaslines to pump the pressure up. You couldn’t get much over 50 pounds of air for any length of time. If you were in a warm place, the engine would overheat. We really enjoyed the area and our experiences there. Before we left, we filled the place up with firewood, using a two-man bucksaw to cut it up. We also laid a fire in the stove, plus put matches in a jar in case someone got stranded up there and needed to spend the winter. At least they wouldn’t freeze the first day. Because we were worried about it, we left in time so we didn’t get snowed in. I appreciate the opportunity to share some of my experiences with WWDR readers. Art Art Beatty may be contacted via e-mail to michele@ worldwidedrillingresource.com %576 /2'%7)( %1( 63%5)6 3529-()( *25 );-67-1+ )48-30)17 ? 527%5< 7%&/)6 12: 352(8')( :-7, /%5+) 5-1+ +)%5 %1( 3-1-21 ))( !)3%-56 !27%5< 7%&/)6 = 8( 38036 = %.25 '20321)176 1-( 5 // "<67)0 1' - 6 $) %5) ()(-'%7)( 72 7,) :%7)5 :)// -1(8675< $ ,)67187 9) 1-( ,21) %; ::: )1-((5-// '20 21@7 *25+)7 5()5 <285 '23< 2* >#5%16*)5 2* #)',12/2+<? :5-77)1 &< 2,1 @ 632-5 Camp on a Mountain, Part 2 by Art Beatty Antofagasta, Chile 30 OCTOBER 2016 WorldWide Drilling Resource ®