Scullys' Gully

Scullys' Gully is west of Yakima approximately 15 mile. I would not say that it is nestled anywhere, nor amongst anything. It is what it is, a cliff, a couple of ponds and a small terraced lawn. A gully that has become the place to gather on Memorial Day weekend. I have only been there once and that was last Friday evening, the evening before the event.

Event?

Yes, it is an event. Bruce Scully puts this on as a customer appreciation wingding, once a year. Or that was the original intent. As far as I have been able to discern, it is now an event, a spring ritual (the spring ritual motif intrigues me and I hope to delve into that aspect later). I do not know how long it has been going on, several years is my guess. At least I have been hearing about it for several years now. Doug Granstrand is a long time Scullys' Gully denizen and has kept me posted on the goings on of the event. This year Doug asked if I would like to go out to the gully Friday night so that I would know how to get there on Saturday. I said yes. He had already taken me on a flyby using Google Earth but there is nothing like a little analog time to fully seat the virtual in the mind.

Friday @ 5:30 we were to meet at Doug's. Worked for me, I had taken Friday off. By 5:30 I had visited with my mom and sister, been up to the folks' cabin with them (hauled a swing porch seat in back of my pickup), had stopped at the WSLCB to buy some liquor. Just bought a few airline bottles and matched them with a couple of bottles of 20oz cokes, got home and kissed Chrissy goodbye. Showed up at Granstrands around 5:30. Doug brought 6 beers in a cooler and a tent that had never been opened/or used (luckily it had directions on how to setup) and a sundry of man tools (well, a two pound sledge and some spikes). We set off, Doug giving the "turn left here" and "turn right there" type instructions.

We talked...the thing you have to know about Doug is that he is an idea generator..somewhat akin to an electrical generator...always on...always with the capability to shock...right now his ideas are orbiting photography as he just purchased a Nikon D50 (had it with him)..we discussed settings...lighting (magic hour, dusk and dawn)...lenses...photographers...nothing shocking...and suddenly, "turn right here" and we are on a gravel road. Uphill, around corners, a couple of lefts but mostly right turns at decision points...we finally start down and bear left to where it flattens out into an area to park and we park beside a pond...behind a Ford f-350...in front of us on the other side of the pond is a stage...a covered stage with large speakers and amps...the music playing was a CD of the Beatles...a crispness in the sound...a timelessness of the music cast a spell over me...maybe not a timelessness in the music as much as a connection with other times...each song seemed to place me randomly at points in my life...before the Now...magic. The stage is at the NW edge of the pond...behind the stage is a basalt cliff approximately 15' to 20' high...hanging, to the right of the stage, off the cliff is a lit up neon sign which reads "The GULLY"...incongruous to say the least... to the right of the sign is a waterfall...not the rushing...focused... roaring...boiling type...more of 10' wide wet spot that makes the gentle sound of falling water...a very domesticated water sound...South and west of the stage is small terraced lawn that overlooks the stage. It was on this terrace that Doug and I erected his tent...not before drinks were broken out mind you. At the foot of the terraces was a BBQ...this was a Tim the Tool Man type BBQ...and it was BBQing half dozen half-chickens...in turbo time I am sure.

At this point things and time begin to blur...my last meal was a turkey sandwich up at the cabin around 1:30...I remember helping to set up the tent...and all the chaos that is affixed to first time endeavors...fixing another whiskey and coke...Doug had his camera out and was taking pictures...I remember walking across the bridge at the SE end of the pond...a sign warned to watch for snakes...I did... the trail lead up a rise to the top of the cliffs over looking the pond and terraces...more people were arriving. On top the vegetation is low growing...this is a steppes type environment... 6" to a foot is the average...the wind can be frightful...the tallest plants up there are sagebrush that might break 4 foot in height. Out about 20 yards North of the trail is a green..a golf green...with a flag...which had blown over in the wind..to the West were concrete stanchions that had pads next to them for hitting from...about 3 of them I think...at about 25 yard intervals...interesting. I follow a trail/road and it loops West and South back down to the Gully. Kevin McCormick and his son Sean arrive and we all greet...Doug, Kevin and I work at the sack factory...between the three of us we have over 60 year in...Sean wastes no time in mixing with the growing group of younglings that are rushing around at youngling speeds and with youngling yells...Doug brings out some cigars...not just any cigars...Doug likes his cigars and regularly buys Acids by the case...he shares with Kevin and I...by this time I have finished my second drink and am into Doug's beer...the cigar preparation ritual is followed and we light up...I am now buzzing from the drinks and working on a cigar hangover...I remember playing horseshoes...throwing...stumbling...drinking...smoking...and winning 2 games losing 1...lost the last to Kevin and Joe...smoked more cigars...stood beside a fire...more people had arrived...drank more beer...I have by now, with the help of drink, bludgeoned what little wit I have into submission, so my conversation skills are crashing with regularity...a systems crash was becoming a possibility...leaving while I still had motor control was an idea whose time had come...Doug agreed to the idea and timing...we left...comfortably numb.

I never got to the actual Scullys' Gully event on Saturday. Chrissy and I were cabin hopping between her sisters cabin up by Bumping and my Folks cabin on the Rattlesnake. Our day got away from us and by the time we got back to Yakima it was past 7:00 pm...the clincher was that it was flat pouring rain and neither of us wanted to brave the wet and the cold. We went home without a whimper and fell to sleep early.

Spring rituals, there is something about them...bear with me here because I do not know what I really want to say and will probably stumble around a bit...why does a modern society celebrate them...Easter, Memorial Day...I mean I see in Scullys' Gully a repetition of ancient rites...possibly a correlation on how it starts and how it continues...the area chosen has a certain earth magic attached to it...it is sheltered and renewal is visible all around...the priest (Scully) has a vision for what he wants his celebration to stand for and works hard to make that happen...I don't know...but this has the feel of something that needs to happen...in the human sense...so that we can know there is a regular cycle to life...we can recharge our spiritual batteries before going back to our sack factories and once again facing the drudgery of everyday work.