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...)