rod
~ Elite 1000 Member ~
As I write, I am visiting my sister in Colorado Springs, and will soon drive the very few minutes to Dave London's place for some shop talk, but first family bonding is on the menu.
I hitched a ride from Northern California in my long time buddy, Peter's, camper truck. After visiting with me in Mendocino, he was passing through Colorado, going back to Boston, this morning he waved goodbye and hit the Prairies for that long journey East. We have been academics and climbers in a past lifetime. To give you some idea how long we have known each other, he came from England, and me from Scotland, to do some research in Vancouver at the University of BC. We both were searching for a place to live, and bumped into each other while responding to an ad. for a small one room apartment for rent within walking distance of the campus. I beat him to it by about five minutes so I got the apartment in a photo finish. The nice landlady gave Peter an old bicycle as a consolation prize. The apartment rented for $28 dollars a month, heating included. Yep, you guessed it, it was back in 1961. Them were the days. I had finished up a stint as cowboy singer on a dude ranch in Wyoming, and just signed on as the cheap white trash warm up gig in a Vancouver club that featured many famous and legendary names … John Lee Hooker, Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee, Johnny Cash, and many more. I arrived in Vancouver in the rain, slept out under a tree in Stanley Park, got up at dawn, put on a pair of 25 cent pants, brushed my hair, went up to the Engineering Department to beg for a Master's Degree application. The department head was too distracted to talk much to me, as his lab teacher just bailed from the coming year's teaching contract. Seizing my chance, I butted in, and said I would teach the labs, if he would sign me on for a Master's programme. He thought for a moment looking me up and down, as I began to have second thoughts about what the heck I was saying, but before I could panic, he agreed. Feeling quite satisfied, yet terrified with my day's work, I went back to my big cedar tree and slept contentedly in the rain, trusting that it would all work out.
It did.
Peter and I became fast friends and adventurer's. Last week we set out from the Coast through 1200 miles on high mountains and burning deserts on the way to the 'Springs.
Passing through eastern Utah, near Moab, our route took us within a stone's throw of the homestead of our illustrious colleague, master engraver, and jack of all trades, Sam Welch. A generous email from Sam said we should swing by, and take a slice of his verdant acres to camp in our truck, have a chin wag, a few tunes, and a look-see at his studio, plus a few other delights.
I took a few snapshots, sent them to Sam for approval, and he wrote back today saying all look okay, and I could share the visit with y'all here on the forum. Here they are:
https://picasaweb.google.com/rodcameron2/SamWelch?authkey=Gv1sRgCM_J366MoZzVIQ
Now many of you have known Sam for decades before I discovered the oasis of the engraving forums, heretofore lost in the wilderness of 'teach yourself' desert landscapes. His masterful work is way above my pay scale, however, Sam is always branching into new adventures, and has been both building guitars and ukes, then engraving parts of the instruments. I strum some on guitar and other things, so we do touch base in a few areas, and you will see he is master restorer of cars, again, I apprenticed at Rolls Royce, so some stars were in alignment. The biggest of Sam's stars is his gentle and modest human nature, always authentic and even handed, as many will know. He generously put us into his souped up truck, one at a time, and took a spin.
Pictures hopefully will speak for themselves, however there is a subtlety in his guitars and uke that I must mention. I just about fell off my seat when Sam casually mentioned that the purfling around tone resonator hole, and also the purfling around the whole guitar is a meticulously cut and inlaid in Morse Code! Sam was in the Air Force Meteorology unit in Alaska, and his Morse Code is good. Some of you will be able to read it on the photos. My Morse Code is very, very slow, as the Danish operators found out in my messages from Greenland in 1958. I feel confident Sam will help us out with what the messages say?
I will say no more than a big thank you to Sam, and for those with time on their hands, more of the 1200 mile trip is posted here:
https://picasaweb.google.com/rodcameron2/PeterSEdit?authkey=Gv1sRgCMvL2Zf33oad8gE
Rod
I hitched a ride from Northern California in my long time buddy, Peter's, camper truck. After visiting with me in Mendocino, he was passing through Colorado, going back to Boston, this morning he waved goodbye and hit the Prairies for that long journey East. We have been academics and climbers in a past lifetime. To give you some idea how long we have known each other, he came from England, and me from Scotland, to do some research in Vancouver at the University of BC. We both were searching for a place to live, and bumped into each other while responding to an ad. for a small one room apartment for rent within walking distance of the campus. I beat him to it by about five minutes so I got the apartment in a photo finish. The nice landlady gave Peter an old bicycle as a consolation prize. The apartment rented for $28 dollars a month, heating included. Yep, you guessed it, it was back in 1961. Them were the days. I had finished up a stint as cowboy singer on a dude ranch in Wyoming, and just signed on as the cheap white trash warm up gig in a Vancouver club that featured many famous and legendary names … John Lee Hooker, Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee, Johnny Cash, and many more. I arrived in Vancouver in the rain, slept out under a tree in Stanley Park, got up at dawn, put on a pair of 25 cent pants, brushed my hair, went up to the Engineering Department to beg for a Master's Degree application. The department head was too distracted to talk much to me, as his lab teacher just bailed from the coming year's teaching contract. Seizing my chance, I butted in, and said I would teach the labs, if he would sign me on for a Master's programme. He thought for a moment looking me up and down, as I began to have second thoughts about what the heck I was saying, but before I could panic, he agreed. Feeling quite satisfied, yet terrified with my day's work, I went back to my big cedar tree and slept contentedly in the rain, trusting that it would all work out.
It did.
Peter and I became fast friends and adventurer's. Last week we set out from the Coast through 1200 miles on high mountains and burning deserts on the way to the 'Springs.
Passing through eastern Utah, near Moab, our route took us within a stone's throw of the homestead of our illustrious colleague, master engraver, and jack of all trades, Sam Welch. A generous email from Sam said we should swing by, and take a slice of his verdant acres to camp in our truck, have a chin wag, a few tunes, and a look-see at his studio, plus a few other delights.
I took a few snapshots, sent them to Sam for approval, and he wrote back today saying all look okay, and I could share the visit with y'all here on the forum. Here they are:
https://picasaweb.google.com/rodcameron2/SamWelch?authkey=Gv1sRgCM_J366MoZzVIQ
Now many of you have known Sam for decades before I discovered the oasis of the engraving forums, heretofore lost in the wilderness of 'teach yourself' desert landscapes. His masterful work is way above my pay scale, however, Sam is always branching into new adventures, and has been both building guitars and ukes, then engraving parts of the instruments. I strum some on guitar and other things, so we do touch base in a few areas, and you will see he is master restorer of cars, again, I apprenticed at Rolls Royce, so some stars were in alignment. The biggest of Sam's stars is his gentle and modest human nature, always authentic and even handed, as many will know. He generously put us into his souped up truck, one at a time, and took a spin.
Pictures hopefully will speak for themselves, however there is a subtlety in his guitars and uke that I must mention. I just about fell off my seat when Sam casually mentioned that the purfling around tone resonator hole, and also the purfling around the whole guitar is a meticulously cut and inlaid in Morse Code! Sam was in the Air Force Meteorology unit in Alaska, and his Morse Code is good. Some of you will be able to read it on the photos. My Morse Code is very, very slow, as the Danish operators found out in my messages from Greenland in 1958. I feel confident Sam will help us out with what the messages say?
I will say no more than a big thank you to Sam, and for those with time on their hands, more of the 1200 mile trip is posted here:
https://picasaweb.google.com/rodcameron2/PeterSEdit?authkey=Gv1sRgCMvL2Zf33oad8gE
Rod
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