Volume Two of The Adventures of Punkin and Boo
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Patrick
Chapter One
A Rocky Beginning
"Oh pancakes," said Boo Roberts when she flubbed a key on the computer as the RV swung awkwardly around a curve on the California Coastal Highway. It wasn't easy to search the internet while riding in the back. "You better do this," she said to the girl lying next to her.
Outside it was a beautiful day on the California coast, north of Fort Bragg. The sky was bright and filled with white clouds. Sunlight reflected off the blue Pacific Ocean like millions of dancing candles, and shorebirds circled above the rocky cliffs leading down to the narrow beaches and teeming tide pools. Picturesque Highway 1 meandered along the side of the cliffs high above the waves. The sleek new RV followed the curving road headed north at sightseer speed.
Inside the RV were John and Carol Roberts and their 14-year-old daughter, Hannah Elise Roberts, known to all as Boo. Bob and Sharon Masters and their 13-year-old daughter, Jacie Elizabeth Masters, affectionately known as Punkin, were traveling with them. John Roberts was driving and Sharon was in the passenger seat. The Masterses relaxed in matching captain's chairs behind the driver's seat. John was concentrating on his driving but enjoying the trip. He noticed an old man walking along the side of the road with a backpack. The man had scraggly white hair and a torn floppy hat to keep the sun off. He was dressed in an old wool shirt and Levis with a patch on one knee. As John drove by, the old man looked up and smiled. He waved as he watched the RV go by. (Click on "read more" to read the rest of the chapter.)
That's strange, thought John, have I seen that guy before? He acted like he knew me. Then the demands of the road took his attention off the old man, who quickly disappeared in the rear-view mirror.
Hannah Roberts and Jacie Masters were first cousins. They had never met until the summer before when a strange set of circumstances brought them together at their grandparents' house in Petaluma, known locally as the Ghost Dancer Ranch. The mysterious old place seemed ripe for an adventure, and sure enough when the girls met, they had one. Later they called it the Mystery of Ghost Dancer Ranch, but that's another story.
Boo was a pretty girl. Her brown hair had a touch of red and blonde, and she was tall for her age. She had a curious nature that got her into some precarious situations. Punkin was smaller, blonde, very cute, and a bit more reserved, but had proven her courage when the two of them went into the caves below the old Ghost Dancer Ranch to solve the mystery. Now they were on their way to Mendocino with their parents to spend three weeks on a working vacation with Boo's dad.
John Roberts worked for a large development company and had recently moved his family to Santa Rosa, California, from Michigan. This was good for the girls’ quickly growing friendship because Punkin's dad had just taken a new position as pastor of a church in Petaluma. So the girls had been able to spend a lot of time together and they had quickly become best friends. The adults were looking forward to spending time together and relaxing, but Boo was itching for another adventure.
"Just think, Punkin," she said when they found out where they were going, "the Lost Coast. Why, it makes me think of pirates and treasure and all sorts of wonderful things."
Punkin agreed, but she wasn't quite so eager to jump into another adventure.
The RV was luxurious and had a kitchen, a living and dining area and two bedrooms as well as couches that made out into beds. The two girls were in the back searching for information about their destination on the internet. Punkin was chewing on a Snickers candy bar.
"What a neat RV this is, Boo," said Punkin between bites, gazing around her at the hardwood paneling and the plasma TV hung on the wall. They were lying on a comfortable king-size bed with a laptop equipped with a wireless card that was receiving a very clear signal because of the satellite antennae mounted on the roof.
"Yeah, Punkin, it is," said Boo. "My dad's company rented it for this trip to the North Coast to search out properties that might be available for resort development. They figured it would be easier than renting a room every night."
"Well, it's great because there's so much room that we all could come along," said Punkin. Laying her candy bar down on the stand beside the bed, she began to do a Google search.
"Oh, look," said Boo, "here's some info on the area where we're going."
The two girls stared at the screen eagerly and read the blurb about California's "Lost Coast."
"The Lost Coast is a section of California's north coast in Humboldt County, lying between the King Range and the Pacific Ocean. The steepness of the coastal mountains made this stretch of coast too daunting for the highway builders, and California State Route 1, which runs along the coast for most of its length, stops at Leggett merging with Highway 101 which runs several miles inland. Much of the Lost Coast is owned by the federal government, and in 1970, 60,000 acres (240 km²) were designated the King Range National Conservation Area."
"See what you can find about the King Range," said Boo.
Punkin typed in the request and Google quickly put up a list of options. Choosing the first one, they read:
"The King Range is a mountain range of northern coastal California. It runs parallel to the coast, and its western slopes fall steeply to the Pacific Ocean. The inaccessible coastal wilderness, known as the Lost Coast, is the longest undeveloped stretch of coast in California. The King Range is located where three tectonic plates (the Pacific Plate, the North American Plate, and the Juan de Fuca Plate) meet, and the area experiences frequent earthquakes. The range is forested, with Coast Douglas-fir, Coast Redwood, and Tanoak. The rivers and streams that drain the range, including the Mattole River, have runs of Coho salmon, Chinook salmon, and Steelhead trout. Historically, the King Range was home to the Native American Mattole and Sinkyone peoples. In the 19th century, the region was opened to commercial logging, fishing, ranching, and tanning."
Punkin nodded in agreement.
"Look at this, Boo," she said. "This article says that there hasn't been a big quake here for a while and there might be one at any time. That's not very encouraging."
Punkin continued to scroll down the entries. Soon she came to an interesting headline on one of the search items - "Local residents still search for missing ship’s safe."
"Look at this, Boo. It’s a story about a safe full of gold that was stolen from a wrecked ship off Cape Mendocino back in the early part of the century."
Boo squeezed in beside her cousin and they both continued to read the entry.
"Treasure hunter, Crazy Jim Jeffries, insists that the missing safe containing over two hundred pounds of gold bullion from the Seattle Queen, is somewhere on the Lost Coast. Jeffries and his partner, Big Bob Covallo, have been searching for the missing safe for two years. According to Jeffries, the Seattle Queen, a shallow draft coastal steamer, left Juneau in late September of 1925. She ran into heavy weather all the way down the coast and encountered a severe gale shortly after she left Crescent City. The schooner ran aground just north of the Mendocino Headlands and the crew abandoned ship. The captain managed to get the safe off the ship. Legend has it that he hid it somewhere in Russian Gulch. There was $165,000 in gold bullion in the safe. That would be worth over $5,000,000 today."
The reporter had then interviewed some local residents concerning the treasure. "Oh, those guys are crazy," said Madge Wilkensen, a Leggett shop owner. "They’ve been telling that story around here for two years, and there’s no gold yet. I think it gives them an excuse to live out in the woods and avoid getting real jobs."
"Wow," said Boo, "missing treasure. Wouldn’t it be fun to look for it while we’re here? I bet we could find it if we had a few more details."
"There you go again," said Punkin, "getting us into an adventure before we have even arrived."
"There’s the old scaredy-cat I know and love," said Boo with a chuckle. She knew that would get her somewhat-reserved cousin’s dander up.
"Now wait a minute," scowled Punkin, "I’m no scaredy-cat and you know it! Why, who was it that led us into the darkest part of the caves under the old mission? I’m going to get you."
With her candy bar in one hand she took a swat at her giggling cousin, who dodged out of the way and started to duck down beside the bed. Just then several things happened rather quickly. Up front, John Roberts was making his way slowly around a wide, sweeping, blind corner; one of the many dangerous spots on the coastal road, when just then a bright yellow BMW sports car came blasting around the corner going at least 80 miles per hour. The speed of the car had caused it to swing wide on the curve, and the driver had over-corrected. Now it was barreling straight at them on their side of the road. A CHP car was in hot pursuit.
With her candy bar in one hand she took a swat at her giggling cousin, who dodged out of the way and started to duck down beside the bed. Just then several things happened rather quickly. Up front, John Roberts was making his way slowly around a wide, sweeping, blind corner; one of the many dangerous spots on the coastal road, when just then a bright yellow BMW sports car came blasting around the corner going at least 80 miles per hour. The speed of the car had caused it to swing wide on the curve, and the driver had over-corrected. Now it was barreling straight at them on their side of the road. A CHP car was in hot pursuit.
"Look out, John!" shouted Carol, as John jerked the wheel to the left. The huge RV responded slowly but made just enough room for the yellow car to zoom by on the right. John had glanced back to make sure and when he looked forward again, he shouted out in dismay. The Big RV was headed straight toward the rocks and the edge of the cliff...
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The yellow BMW sped south down the Coast Highway. Two men were in the car. In the passenger seat, a young, blond, muscular man with long hair kept looking back for the CHP cruiser. The driver, an older Hispanic-looking fellow, kept his eyes glued to the road as he swept around the dangerous turns.
"Did we lose him?" asked the driver.
"I think so," said the blond man. "It looks like he turned around to check out that RV you ran off the road."
"Well, lucky for us that guy was coming along or that cop would have caught us. And with what we got in the trunk we couldn't afford that, now could we?"
The blond man answered nervously, "No, we sure couldn’t; now why don't you slow down. Your crazy driving is going to get us killed."
"Shut up, you punk. I say what goes around here," barked the driver. "If you don't like my driving, get out and walk." As he spoke he raised his foot and kicked the door handle next to the blond man. The door flew open as they swung wildly around another curve. If he hadn't had his seat belt on, the younger man would have flown out of the car. As it was, he jerked violently against the belt, as the speed of the car around yet another curve pulled him toward the open door.
"Man, you are crazy!" he yelled as he grabbed the door and slammed it shut. The older man just laughed as they raced on down the road.
"Did we lose him?" asked the driver.
"I think so," said the blond man. "It looks like he turned around to check out that RV you ran off the road."
"Well, lucky for us that guy was coming along or that cop would have caught us. And with what we got in the trunk we couldn't afford that, now could we?"
The blond man answered nervously, "No, we sure couldn’t; now why don't you slow down. Your crazy driving is going to get us killed."
"Shut up, you punk. I say what goes around here," barked the driver. "If you don't like my driving, get out and walk." As he spoke he raised his foot and kicked the door handle next to the blond man. The door flew open as they swung wildly around another curve. If he hadn't had his seat belt on, the younger man would have flown out of the car. As it was, he jerked violently against the belt, as the speed of the car around yet another curve pulled him toward the open door.
"Man, you are crazy!" he yelled as he grabbed the door and slammed it shut. The older man just laughed as they raced on down the road.
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