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Posts Tagged ‘Crazy Horse Saloon Malibu’

Before their was The Owens Valley, there was a quonset hut near avenue “D” (Hwy. 138) and 210th Street in the Antelope Valley, Garlock, Randsburg and Red Mountain near Mojave, CA. These were places where we went to go target shooting, hiking and exploring. In January, 1979 Jean and I had moved into a townhouse in the San Fernando Valley near Van Nuys High School. We made several trips up to the Owens Valley in the Fall of 1978.

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The Owens Valley, looking towards The White Mountains…

We looked for arrowheads behind Independence, CA and in the foothills of the lava fields just East of Tinemaha Resovoir, near Big Pine, CA. On our first trip to Aspen, in September, 1978, we passed through Bishop – it was one of the prettiest days that I remember…she also ran her fingers through my hair…Hmmmmm…

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These were taken on a hot day in the Fall of 1978…

Later that Fall, in November, I took Jean and and actress/agent friend of mine and her boy friend hunting for pheasants along the Owens River bottom South of Lone Pine. In those days, the California Department of Fish and Game would plant birds along the River. They did not naturally reproduce there. On our way up to Lone Pine, we stopped at The Homestead Cafe, one of my favorite places to dine on Hwy. 395. It was located where Hwy. 14 and Hwy. 395 join. For many years afterwards, Ally, Michael and myself made a point of stopping there when we visited the High Sierras. The had a steak platter called “The Big Verge” that was a 2lb., 2 inch thick Sirloin that the three of us could not finish off. It is now shuttered and up for sale – lot of memories there!!!

Homestead Cafe , Indian Wells Valley…

The Homestead today…(4.14.2011)

Our daughter, Ally…drives her Dad past the memories…33 years later..(4.14.2011)

On that pheasant hunting trip, we – I mean I – took many birds. I had bought Jean a 20 gage Browning BPS especially for this trip. It was cold and frosty when we arrived at the Owens. I carried a 12 gage Brown BSS and my friends both had high end Italian 12 gage, over and under shotguns. I had no sooner traveled twenty five yards from the vehicle when I jumped the first hen. It was a day like that, I could do no wrong and there were pheasants EVERYWHERE. As Jean was walking, a bird explode from a sage bush right at her feet. I hollered, ” shoot!” and Jean nearly dropped her shotgun…I took the bird out at 30 yards as it made for a Cottonwood stand across the river… with the modified barrel…The other guys were not doing so well either…

 

Browning BSS, 12 gauge

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East and North of Manzanar on the way to Shepherd’s Creek, Ally wants a pair of those FRYE Boots…

In fact, Jean kinda’ had a look on her face like the one in the picture above -not pleased!!! The fun part began when we returned to the Mt. Whitney Motel and had to pluck the feathers off the fowl and clean them. I knew how to do this. For Jean and the others it was like, “Where are the porters and gun bearers, don’t THEY do this!!!”The birds were cleaned, frozen and brought back to LA on dry ice. My Mother, back in Carrollton, GA, used to admonish me that if I killed a game animal – I had to eat it (Coot does not taste too good). This has been passed on to my kids…

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Lost somewhere…

Those pheasants were cooked up at Jean’s parent’s house on Thanksgiving day, 1978 in Monterey Park. (and for those of you who wonder- Jean’s Mom is from Burma and her Dad is from Shanghai, China, both are Chinese, and yes, they had an arranged marriage …)

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Cooking the birds…Thanksgiving, 1978…

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Eating the birds, Thanksgiving, 1978…

In December, 1978, Jean and I went hunting in Lone Pine where she shot and killed her first and last Jackrabbit. The hunting license that we spent two days acquiring through a Hunter Safety class, was never used again. She pegged that “bunny” with a Colt .22 HB Officer’s Model Match that had belonged to my Mom…

 

Colt .22 HB, Officer’s Model Match…

This was Tokiwa’s…another place we would stop at to eat along Hwy. 14 South of Jawbone Canyon…It burned to the ground in 1990…

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Lone Pine Creek, in a hard to get to place…

For Christmas, Jean bought me a Ruger , 6″, single action .38/.357. I put custom, finger groove ,Walnut stocks on that puppy and had Alphonso’s of North Hollywood fashion a custom leather rig for it…( he leathered Nudie’s Metal). I have never parted with that handgun…

 

Ruger SA, 6″, .38/.357…

 

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At Shepherd’s Creek…

I had set up a loading bench in the spare room below our garage at the townhouse and spent a lot of Saturday’s cooking up special loads for my Varmint rifles. In particular, I worked on high velocity, flat loads for a 6mm. Parker Hale that I used for sitting up on hay bales, on a hot spring day, out in the Antelope Valley busting ground squirrels out to 800 meters. That whole area is now a subdivision and it is something one can no longer do – out there…

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Along Lone Pine Creek…

This same place was where we used to Dove hunt in the Fall and later on hunt Ducks and Quail . It was about a 45 minute drive from where we lived in LA. Jean would generally accompany me, but did not hunt…

jean-desert-lp-10Lone Pine Creek…

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More LP Creek…

On those weekends that we were in town, we could usually be found at this INSANE place in Malibu, on Friday or Saturday nights, called The Crazy Horse Saloon, built in the 1920’s and once owned by Neil Young. It was located across from the Malibu Pier and was loaded with revelers. From the San Fernando Valley, we would drive on the 101 Freeway to Malibu Canyon Road. We would get there around nine and close the joint . Between the Jack Daniels and trips to the restrooms (Peruvian Marching Powder), the dancing (yes, they overplayed that D–O music that our kids laugh at today – think Chic, Taste of Honey – repped. those girls) …the drive back home would get REAL interesting. Most of our clothes went flying into the back seat and it was even more difficult to focus on the road. The truckers on the 101 must have had a field day at 2 AM…We did at 3 am

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The Crazy Horse Saloon replaced the above Cafe in the late 70’s…

The Bar…

What it is now called and how it looks these days…

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Love the pout…

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Again…

On one of those trips over the hill, there was an incident that happened between Jean and myself that should have raised a BIG RED FLAG in my head. But, in those days… I would not/could not recognize a red flag if it was waved in my face or beat on the head with it … ( more on this when I recover…) both of us were then, stumbling toward the 80’s…

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Lone Pine Creek…

Jean was still working as an actress and I was piling up musicians, actors, actresses and corporate accounts as a Sunset Strip publicist. Those were heady days, much clubbing, concerts and parties. Jean even worked as an intern at my office while she was going to UCLA.

One of my best bud’s (and client) was “Willy”, Wilhelmina. Going to her offices here in LA and in New York was like visiting a candy store for beautiful (vacuous) people… She is someone I will always remember…she was a cut above anyone I have ever worked with... a good friend and a true LADY…

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Jean – Moving…

This was an exceptionally exciting time. And, don’t let me forget to mention, that I went through all of it…with a drink in my hand…and a straw in my pocket…

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Jean blinking…

My job, in a nutshell – in those days – was to take one – dimensional people and companies and make them interesting. So, that (YOU) the public, would buy their records, go to their concerts, watch their television shows, see their movies or buy their products. Yikes…I like going Fly Fishing with my kids and Tying Flies a lot better…

PT/TB

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