From: epona (acolyta@napc.com)
Date: 01/14/03-01:32:28 PM Z
Jeff, that sounds fabulous, wish I was there. I've always found the bagpipes
particularly moving.
Cheers,
Christine
Jeff Buck wrote:
> This is my submission for the Sandy King Archive of reasons we pursue large
> format that have nothing to do with film size.
>
> Yesterday I was traveling back to Albuquerque from Silver City, an
> interesting old mining town in Southwestern New Mexico. The first step is
> to scale and cross the lovely Sierra Negro range. At the crest, known as
> Emory Pass, there's a spectacular overlook ringed by an old stone parapet
> (just wide enough for mounting a big camera). From there, you look east
> across an abyss at the Rio Grande floodplain and the Sacramento Mountains
> beyond. I'd timed it to be there around 4:30 PM and started setting
> up. No hurry at all.
>
> I heard a car coming up the drive to the overlook area -- kind of fast and
> noisy. I looked back as a rather disheveled old lime green Volvo
> stationwagon slid to a halt in the middle of the gravel parking. I thought
> something like, "These dang kids these days *&%@#!!" Out pops a big,
> distinguished-looking man of 60 years or so. Also somewhat
> disheveled. (Later I learned that his name was Hans and that he had a
> fairly heavy German accent. And that he was a little tight.)
>
> I went on setting up, but noticed as the man rooted around in the back of
> his stationwagon for some unknown items. I heard him kind of slam a door
> shut and watched momentarily as he disappeared into the woods with a bit of
> a bundle under his right arm. A couple minutes passed, when I heard him
> pumping up a set of bagpipes. For the next maybe half hour, he serenaded
> me with a selection of delicious, mournful tunes. No one else about. Not
> a sound but the pipes and the occasional call of a crow.
>
> He came back from the woods and joined me at the overlook. I was all set
> and watching the light. I thanked him for the tunes and asked if he
> possibly knew "Amazing Grace." "Yah shuure! It's a easy von!" So he
> pumped up and played "Amazing Grace" beautifully as we stood on the stone
> parapet and watched across the great emptiness as the distant mountains
> vanished slowly in the gathering dusk.
>
> JB
-- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You can't be a real country unless you have a beer and an airline. It helps if you have some kind of a football team, or some nuclear weapons, but at the very least you need a beer. --Frank Zappa
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