The 800-Pound Gorilla

     As mentioned before, the original developer of PMC was Tenneco. Once a particular number of properties were sold, Tenneco exited and turned the project over to the Pine Mountain Club Property Owners Association (PMCPOA). This process was all guided by the original Codes, Covenants and Restrictions (CC&R's) that Tenneco recorded when the project was begun. 
     Unfortunately, the new Association didn't come with an Owner's Manual.  (The Davis-Stirling Act, which laid down the rules and regulations for Common Interest Developments like Pine Mountain Club, didn't exist until 1985.). So, the foundations for the fledgling community were put in place by generally well-intentioned (not always!) but woefully uninformed and unprepared amateurs. The original CC&R's and Bylaws were lifted from State of California statutes and had no editing to make them fit the current or future needs of a year-round community. (Documents produced like this are often referred to as "boilerplate".) Governing documents prepared this way are always ambiguous because the regulations are designed to cover many different situations throughout the State. This ambiguity would prove to be very troublesome (and expensive) for Pine Mountain Club in the comimg years. 
     The first few years of the Association (PMCPOA) weren't too difficult-- the Board of Directors and General Managers hired by them basically winged it. Problems were small because there weren't a lot of people to deal with. Very few homes, hardly any permanent residents, (when we moved here permanently in 1976, there were 79 permanent residents!) the streets and signs, the stables, golf course and clubhouse were all brand new. The position of General Manager was a fairly low-responsibility, low-paying job--one of the main qualifications was a willingness to move yourself (and accompanying family usually) to 60 miles from nowhere. Realistically, it takes a while to really learn the ropes of a million-dollar-plus organization, certainly a year or more. During the first 3 decades of PMC's existence, the average tenure of a General Manager was about 18 months! So much for long-range planning.
     One early GM went around to all the PMC facilities and put padlocks on all the cabinets and storage areas. Everything had locks, and he had the only keys. Turned out he was stealing the Association blind---he just wanted to make sure nobody stole anything but him! Another managed to build a new house and let the Association foot a large portion of the bill for the materials, AND used Association employees to do some of the construction work. Another GM took it upon himself to enforce the Environmental rules himself: a property owner painted his house an "unapproved" color, and balked at changing it. The GM suspended his "Member" privileges (and those of his family) as a "penalty" for violating the CC&R's. When the member's little daughter wanted to go to the Brownie meeting at the Clubhouse, the GM refused to let her go in, because they (her family) were members "not-in-good-standing".
The settlement of THAT lawsuit cost us over 100,000 dollars. (to be continued)

What's In a Name?

     Many places and streets in PMC bear personal, as opposed to generic, names. You may ask "where did those names come from?" or "who were those people that these places were named for, or after?" I don't think I know ALL the sources for ALL the names, but here's what I know (or at least remember).
      The street names throughout PMC were chosen by the developer, Tenneco. Most of the names reflect the alpine or resort flavor that Tenneco was trying to sell. Obviously, they didn't have spell-check then, so there were (and are) some glaring errors: the signs for "Arctic Drive" were spelled "Artic" for many years. And of course "San Moritz" was spelled phonetically, instead of the correct "St. Moritz" (it's still that way!)
     Some main streets were given personal names, after Tenneco CEO's, or other VIP at the company. Thus we have Freeman Drive, Symonds Drive, and Askin Drive. Some of the lanes and access roads were given personal names, too, like Schroeder Place, (after Warren Schroeder, an early perennial Chairman of the POA Board), and Gotthard Place----I don't know WHERE this name came from, but knowing some of the antics that went on near there, it may not refer to a person.;--).
      Fern's Lake was named for Fern (Fernan) Olivier, who championed the cause of cleaning up what was known as the Lower Lake prior to his death. Lampkin Park was named for Larry Lampkin, one of the first team of salespeople who worked selling PMC property for Tenneco. Larry carried a longtime Pine Mountain tradition of serious partying a little too far, and expired at a young age at the Caravan Inn in Gorman.
      The streets in the Village all have names, too. Originally, the buildings in the Village all had addresses of either Mil Potrero Highway, or Askin Drive, but years ago, the KC Fire Department required that all streets and lanes and access roads in PMC had to have individual and distinctive names, so names were chosen. (If you don't like them, blame me). However, some building and business owners never got that memo, so some businesses still have Askin Drive or Mil Potrero addresses listed, even though the building is on Pine Valley Lane, etc.
     Prior to this change, many of the lanes and access roads throughout PMC had names that referred back to the street they connected to-- so you had Woodland Lane, Woodland Place, Woodland Court, etc. You can't blame the Fire Department for requiring a change.
      Symonds Drive had similar related names. Two of those were changed to "Ebony" and "Ivory". "Why such an odd choice?" you may ask. Someday I'll tell you. (I guess, in retrospect, it's not a lot "odder" than "Sand" and "Gravel" !
Part II    
  Then there's "Mil Potrero" Highway. I don't what's more difficult: spelling it, pronouncing it correctly, or trying to get someone on the phone to spell it correctly so you'll get your delivery on time (maybe!).
        I've seen many places that "Mil Potrero" translates to "thousand meadows (or pastures)" or whatever. It doesn't "translate" to anything, because it's not real Spanish. Correct Spanish would be "Mil Potreros" (plural) not "Potrero" (singular). But the "Mil" was really "Mill" from the "Mill Potrero"-- so named by the Sneddens-- early settlers of this area, who had a cattle ranch in Lockwood Valley, and used the meadow where PMC Golf Course is now to feed their stock in the summer, because it was cooler than the lower elevations. "Mill" referred to the sawmill that existed at the time (Sawmill Mountain took the name as well), and "Potrero" was taken from the Mexican vaqueros who used the word referring to a pasture-like meadow or field.
      Mount Pinos is from the Spanish for pine (pino), prounounced "pee-no", the plural being "pee-nos". There is no tilde above the "n" in Pinos. because there's none in pino. However, if pronounced correctly, it comes out "Mount Penis", so most people say "Mount Pie-nos" to avoid embarrassing explanations! To locals, using the words "Mount Piños" is always wrong.
     Mount Abel is also called "Cerro Noroeste" (another of those almost unpronounceable Spanish names). Abel is a lot easier to say, but like so many things around here, there's an underlying set of facts:

 "Cerro Noroeste, which means northwest hill in Spanish, lies several miles west of Mt. Pinos. It is far more than a hill, since it is nearly as high as Mt. Pinos. Contrary to its official name, it is often referred to as Mt. Abel after Stanley Abel, who was a Kern County supervisor instrumental in having the first road built to the top of Cerro Noroeste in the 1930 and also construction of Highway 33 between Ventura and Maricopa. As a consequence many locals began calling the peak Mt. Abel, maybe because it was easier to pronounce. Among other things Abel is remembered as a member of the Ku Klux Klan and also as the county official who attempted unsuccessfully to have John Steinbeck’s book The Grapes of Wrath banned from county libraries. The controversy over what Cerro Noroeste should be named was resolved in 1990 when the Board of Geographical Names decided in favor of Cerro Noroeste."

Harry Nelson

Apache Saddle Part II

     Once the seasonal license issues were overcome, the Apache Saddle (or just "The Saddle") became a full-fledged bar. Food in the restaurant was good or it wasn't, but the bar kept on. 
      Over the years, like many similar establishments, it acquired its cast of characters. The Tidwells, Chuck & Marge, the original owners, and their children Tommy and Patty Tidwell Shirley, ran the restaurant for the first few years, hiring staff to do all the work, and then hiring managers to manage the staff. Some of those managers were as colorful as their customers.
      One such manager was a guy named Bill Marsh. He started in the middle of summer one year, and his first big weekend was Labor Day (Oktoberfest). I warned him prior to the weekend that he was going to be really busy -- "human car wash" busy. I saw him on Labor Day Monday afternoon, and asked him how it went. "Man, this place is half-full of a$$holes", he declared. "Yeah, and it's only half-full," was my (tongue-in-cheek) answer.
     Since PMC was growing at a rapid pace in those early years, many of The Saddle's "characters" were in the construction business. Jerry Kiger, Bullet ('cause he moves so fast! ;-)  
Pee-Wee the Roofer, Cecil Chambers, Chuck Hartley, Lance Hartley, Dick Murphy, to name but a few, all helped build Pine Mountain Club from a resort into a community. Del Archer Construction started in Malibu building mansions, and then Del and his crew came to Pine Mountain Club and built some "mountain mansions". Del's crew all hung out at The Saddle after work and on weekends, and some are part of legend. Some of those stories I'll tell later, but I'll just list a few names now: Norm Jessel, Buck & BJ Sawyer, Black Bart (who won a Silver Medal at the Olympics), and of course, Del & Barb. 
       One of the best stories is as much legend as truth. I can't vouch for the story because I wasn't ever there (how'd that happen??). Her name shall be kept confidential, but she came to be known as "Bootsie". The name came from her occasional habit of (when well-inebriated, and in the company of an equally inebriated crowd of onlookers) dancing on the top of the bar in go-go boots... That's all --- just boots. If those wall could talk! -- and a lot of us old-timers are relieved they can't. (It wasn't really me and JW that used all the disco records as Frisbees off the upper deck that night, when most of them made it all the way over the golf course fence---those guys just looked like us!)

Apache Saddle, Part 1

     The third oldest building in the Village is the gambrel-shaped center portion of what is now Madd Bailey's Pub. In 1975, Dave Peters and Chuck Tidwell, both of Pine Mountain Real Estate, and Fred Westlund of Westlund Construction, decided to build a bar/restaurant an the commercial lot next to the Pine Mountain General Store. Who owned what or what portion I don't know, but ultimately full ownership of the property belonged to Dave Peters. 
    The viability of such a venture was unknown at the time, so to hedge their bets, the building was constructed in a gambrel shape, with a large ridge beam that could be attached to a crane, allowing the whole structure to be lifted up, and moved to a residential lot. That was Fred Westlund's theory, anyway. Luckily, it never had to be tested. 
     The business was give the name "Apache Saddle"-- a nice Western-sounding name. The name was taken from the area just west of Pine Mountain Club, where Mil Potrero Highway meets Cerro Noroeste Road. 

     A saddle is a dip or low point between two areas of higher ground. A saddle is not necessarily the lower ground between two hilltops; it may be simply a dip or break along a level ridge crest. If you are in a saddle, there is high ground in two opposite directions and lower ground in the other two directions. A saddle is normally represented as an hourglass.

     The original layout of the building was similar to the way it is now, except the addition on the east side wasn't there yet, nor the deck above. The dining room was upstairs along with the windowed bar, and downstairs was a sort of coffee-shop area with booths. In order to facilitate delivery of food to the dining room above, a dumb-waiter was installed in the kitchen that opened in the wall above. The kitchen staff would load the food on trays, and then, like an elevator, they would push a button and the food would rise to the floor above. Similarly, the dirty dishes could be sent below, descending magically to the kitchen below. In theory...
    In reality, if the load was too heavy, the dumb-waiter would just sit there, or if at the top, drop like a stone, crashing into the sink at the bottom. At least you don't have to wash broken dishes and glassware!
    Once opened, the Apache Saddle became the only place west of Lebec that sold hard liquor. The PMC Clubhouse had no bar at all at the time (more about that later), and the General Store only sold beer and wine. In fact, at first the Saddle only had a "seasonal" liquor license. If I recall correctly, 3 months a year they couldn't serve alcohol. After two or three years, it was upgraded to year round. During those "dry" months, we would drive on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday nights to Gorman, to the restaurant/bar at the Caravan Inn, to get a proper cocktail.
     Originally, the business was owned by the Tidwell family, and managed first by Tommy Tidwell, and then by his sister, Pat (Tidwell) Shirley. They (the Tidwells) didn't work there, their source of income was local real estate, but rather they employed local residents to cook, serve, bar-tend, etc. Later, they advertised for managers to run the entire place. Some of the most colorful characters ever to inhabit Pine Mountain Club first came here to work at the Apache Saddle. For a long time it seemed that the qualifications for working in the Apache Saddle kitchen were (among others): a pulse, mostly-sober (at least before noon), can find the stove/oven, knows the difference between raw chicken and frozen hamburger, etc. You didn't need to know how to order supplies--when an order came into the kitchen from the dining room, you just walked next door to the Pine Mt. General Store, got what you needed, and put it on the Saddle's account. Some very "interesting" dishes came out of that kitchen. 
     The original "ventilation" system for the kitchen consisted of a little exhaust fan like you would put in a normal home kitchen-- not nearly adequate for a commercial cook-top and a flat-top grille. Consequently, even in the cold months, the kitchen would get unbearably hot, even with the back door wide open to the cold. One day I walked by the open kitchen door and the "cook" was standing at the stove in his boxer shorts!
     All that aside, some very good food did emerge from the kitchen on occasion. Uly Paz,  a crazy, hot-tempered Filipino, made chicken adobo and duck a l'orange that were truly memorable. George Crane, who originally came from New York and New Jersey, cooked smoked pork chops, sauteed pasta, and prime rib to die for. But in reality, for those early years, neither the food nor the cocktails had to be that good, because there was virtually no competetion.
(to be continued...)