George Parker Remembers Peter M.

My Side of Peter

I remember Peter coming on the crew in 1988. I saw the look in his eyes you described. An intelligent, charismatic guy who others would naturally follow. The question was…would it be for evil or for good? I knew about his gang background, but I never saw the scars or know all of the details. Other people on the crew knew about them, but I was never there when the stories were being told. I found out about them second-hand from the other crewmembers.

One thing that stuck in my mind…several times I came around a corner or surprise him somehow, and he would be in the middle of some petty little behavior. His eyes would open wide, his eyebrows would go up, and he would say "Ahhhh…maaaan. I don't do anything wrong for a whole week, then the one time I do something, you're right there busting me. Every time! How can that happen?!" To which I normally replied "Uh, huh."

Once we were working a trail maintenance project on Trinidad Head. The job was almost entirely cutting overgrown brush back to open up the trail. On the ocean side of the Head, however, there is a spur trail that climbs up a slight grade to a nice vista point. It was just a dirt trail when we got there. Our C-1, Kristen, suggested that I put a rock step in. She also suggested that I show Peter how to build it. Now, it had taken me a lot of tries to get the hang of rockwork in Yosemite. I didn't think I was going to be able to train Peter very much on just one step. But whenever Kris made a suggestion, you just didn't want to let her down, so I showed Peter how to build a rock step.

I showed him what type of rock to use, including size and shape. I showed him how to dig the foundation, and how to place the rock to make it stable. I showed him how to secure a step with other rocks crushed around and behind the step rock, and how to backfill behind the step to restore the tread of the trail. And last, I showed him how to finish the step to entice people to walk over the step and not around. By the time we finished, we had a pretty nice step.

Later in the year, in June, we were on a spike on Orleans Mountain, just outside…well…Orleans. We were going to be building three miles of brand new trail in a system that would eventually connect the Marble Mountains with the Trinity Alps. On our first work day, I was going to be running a chain saw to cut trees and logs out of the right-of-way, and Peter was going to be my swamper. Our first hike to the work site started by going about 150 or 200 yards up a fairly steep hill. I got my chaps wrapped around the bar, hoisted the saw over my shoulder, made sure the chaps were covering the dogs so they wouldn't dig into my neck. Kristen said "Let's go," and the crew started up the grade.

I had been out of the Backcountry for about nine months, and I saw this grade as a test to see what kind of shape I was still in. It didn't take long to see that I was in nowhere near the shape I had been in in Yosemite. I started huffing and puffing. Then my lungs started burning. My legs didn't want to work right. I started mentally cussing myself out for letting myself go to pot like that. But I didn't stop climbing. I kept my eyes focused on the tree line and there was no way in hell I was stopping before I reached the trees.

I got to the trees and turned around to look behind me as I paused to catch my breath. Peter, lugging his Pulaski, domar, wedges, and other assorted swamper gear, was right there behind me. The next nearest Corpsmember wasn't even halfway up the hill yet. I realized two things. One, that I was still in better shape than I thought, so I should lighten up on myself. Two, Peter was gonna make one helluva trail worker.

I eventually left the CCC for other endeavors, but made it back as a limited term C-1 at the Sacramento Satellite in 1996. I started hearing stories about a Backcountry C-1 named Peter M. I asked around, thinking it might have been the same guy I knew as a corpsmember. People didn't think they would be the same guy. I transferred to Delta Center, and I kept hearing about this C-1 who was going to give Diane Brown a run for her money in the number of seasons running backcountry trail crews. I kept asking, but people didn't think it could be the same corpsmember I knew at Del Norte.

I left the CCC to take a permanent job with Fish and Game, which has been my home ever since. In 2010 or so, I found myself with frequent temporary assignments over to Mad River Hatchery, outside Arcata. About this same time, I also located Peter Martinez, the corpie I knew, through Facebook. We managed to meet up, and sure enough, he was the guy who had led so many Backcountry tail crews! He had also just finished a Peace Corps assignment to Africa. I was certainly impressed with the success of his life.

We managed to meet up one more time before my assignments at Mad River finished. I suggested taking a stroll around Trinidad Head. He said he couldn't remember the last time he had been out there and it sounded good, so we went.

This time, I was the one lagging behind Peter as we climbed up out of the parking lot. I was winded before we finished the first climb. He took it easy on me, the fat old man with the bad back and knees, as we walked around the Head.

When we got to that spur trail on the ocean side of the Head, he walked right past it.

"Hey, Peter! Check this out!" I called to him and moved up the densely overgrown spur trail. As he came in behind me, I pointed to a rock step. "Remember that?"

"No. Should I?"

"You and I put that in."

"No way!"

"Yep. Your very first rockwork."

We hung out there for a while as Peter soaked it all in. "This is why you wanted to bring me out here, huh?"

It felt like a circle had been completed.