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Archive for the ‘cryptozoology’ Category

Incredible tattoo, amazing tattoo – Walton 2010

Amazing tattoo.

What kind of mythical creature is this?

I was especially curious as to the meaning of this piece of artwork. Looks like there is some kind of clock that is melting like its made of wax. An elephant whose legs are stretched way out to stringy tendrils and a checkerboard that is crumbling in the background.

I took this picture at the Walton 2010 – Monster Energy CMRC Nationals, where tattoos are the norm – but this one was spectacular.

Any thoughts as to the symbolism?

Check out this tattoo of a schooner.

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Broadview hotel – Wichita – Kansas (who is in control?)

P1020556, originally uploaded by Mic2006.

If you are dealing with demons “you gotta be authorative”, or thats what Jim said on that day up in the Muskokas. Patrick Cross, Jim, Bev and I had gone up to Cooper’s Falls to exorcise a house of whatever was living there. I was just a spectator – observer for reasons that I am not willing to divulge at this time.

As far as authority goes, this lady had it all – no messing with her. Most of the people on the tour were a little tipsy by now – they needed discipline. This fellow standing next to the guide was told he was now called Al, last man in the group, his job to ensure that the tour stayed together. We were issued maps so that nobody got lost in the rooms beneath the floor.

Apparenttly Al Capone had a favorite drinking spot, “Al’s Room” and the speak -easy that operated down there was joined to other areas of the city by tunnels. Six hundred at a time packed the space beneath the Broadview Hotel. And of course Clarence was sometimes seen down there (the ghost). “Keep snapping away, someone always finds orbs on their camera”.

Though Patrick and Jim say they now refuse to have anything to do with demons, “Way to dangerous”, I felt safe going down there with this lady. I am sure she would quickly whip a malevolent presence into line.

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BTK spent some time here – Broadview Hotel

Well now! Staying at the Broadview would be a hollow experience if one made no attempt to follow up on the Ghost story. Clarence as an entity is well known around there.

By all descriptions Clarence seems harmless enough, but as with any place thats haunted, it seems that a one-off paranormal situation is the exception not the norm. Some have felt cold patches in their rooms, others shaking at the doors. A disembodied voice – a small child, is sometimes heard in the halls at night. Apparently Clarence likes messing with the phone – endless dialing down to the front desk from such and such a room, but when the staff go up to investigate, there is nobody there. The lady who ran the tour told us that sometimes orbs appear on people’s pictures.

I wonder if some places are more conducive to paranormal activity than others? I have long been interested in the lay-line theory. I know from a few examinations in Ontario where I have accompanied the highly acclaimed paranormal investigator – Patrick Cross that paranormal entities seldom occur in ones. In Burlington – Patrick’s place of residence, the very streets are oozing spirits – here a poltergeist, there a moving statue and of course the infamous tree – posessed of an evil energy – I myself almost came “acropper” at that dismal spot, but thats another story.

Lay lines, you have to wonder, they supposedly stretch between places of cultural and religious significance – threads quite plainly seen by some, only felt by others. Witchita is dead-smack center of the continent, a veritable power house of culture and religious worship. Odd though it might seem, BTK was some kind of church elder at Wichita’s Christ Luthern Church and he is known to have spent time in the Broadview Hotel. Not being an expert in lay line divination, I wonder what a dowser would find in the plains around the city.

This picture above is the bar in the Broadview Hotel – a beautiful tin ceiling’d space with stained glass and plenty of pints of my new favorite beer – “Amber Bok”. The Flapper tour that takes residents down to the basement starts in the bar – led by the lady on the left in the red dress.

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His blue eye and white claw lead me to that conclusion.

IMG_6301, originally uploaded by Mic2006.

There we go – “Bad Old Chester”. Chester – the new “Rockhound”.

Sadly Shaka passed away in October. He had a tumor on his spleen – virtually unsaveable as the ensuing operation revealed. You may remember him from the post “Cave Police” (July 2006) and also “Bubbles at the Bear Lake Apatite Mine”(July 2006). Of course you can never replace so loved a member of your family but you can move on. I went through a slump that lasted several months during which time I found it hard to write or enjoy anything for that matter, but Maggie and I finally decided to get another golden. Chester came from a Mennonite farm up near Palmerston – his father an absolutely beautiful creature – pure white and of amazing temperament.

Chester has one white claw and it is this – according to Maggie – that makes him evil. I say it is his blue eye – the evil eye – try sleeping when he wants to play – you will understand the true meaning of evil. Joshua, my son also appears with Chester. Some suggest that it was from Joshua that the dog got his wicked nature.

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Locals call him “old yellow mane”. 

IMG_1821, originally uploaded by Mic2006.

Though Doug Shier tells me that all roads in the area lead back to Cobalt, I am warned by an older gent in the Silver Load Hotel’s restaurant to be careful out there if I am exploring the ore piles. It was a little cryptic; you might say kind of creepy. I thanked him for the advice, finished pouring my coffee and headed out. I wondered what he might be alluding to. Maybe he was talking about getting lost or falling down a shaft like the Chinese laundering family-hmmmm (They all disappeared one night leaving the food still cooking on the stove – never to be seen again – see one of my earlier posts on Cobalt).

Once out there it really began to play on my mind. I had followed an old tramline down a narrow valley between towering white pines. I was in a hidden valley that for some reason had escaped the miners axe. There was supposedly an abandoned mill a few kilometres up the path. My source told me that it was on the left hand side just before the tailings swamp.

From the impressive “Little silver Vein Mine” I had followed a short incline up to the tramline. I soon found myself pushing along a tree-lined tunnel of soft, feathery-limbed tamarack and cedar. It was a wonderfully “organic experience” that started off in a relatively wholesome way but eventually began to feel quite creepy.

The further I went the more subdued the forest became. Eventually there was only deathly silence. I found myself dwelling on the oddly disturbing feeling of being watched. I thought back to something that I had recently read of. It was the appearance of “Old Yellow Mane”. He is Ontario’s northern Sasquatch. Yellow Mane had first been seen in 1906 by miners at the nearby Violet Mine. He was seen again in 1923 by two prospectors who surprised him while he was picking blueberries. They supposedly threw rocks at the poor fellow and he ran away. As was reported in the North Bay Nugget, Yellow Mane was seen for a third time in 1946. A woman and her son saw him ambling along beside some rail tracks. I never found the mill or “Old Yellow Mane” but the walk was quite surreal.

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19, originally uploaded by Mic2006.

After crawling for half an hour up Pond Creek you pass beneath a shaft that leads up to a manhole cover. There are several flat shelves around this intersection that are piled high in molding fecal matter. I suspect that this is the central hub for the neighbourhood’s raccoon traffic.

Ten minutes further along will put you at a passage that opens out from a claustrophobic slot into an arched dolostone tube. The floor is of wet, musty smelling gravel and it dips into a pool at the bottom of a natural, stone lip.

Old maps of the area led me to believe that somewhere up ahead the tunnel will fork. In a back garden near exhibition park I am told that there is a well where the property owner drops a bucket down to a pool of water. This surface portal might be just beyond the beam of my headlamp but I have only pushed the passage a little further. The stoop walking and crawling is a killer on the knees and thighs.

Check out the speleothems growing on the roof. The explorer must be careful so as not to damage them as these growths are easily snapped.

This was undoubtably one of the more unusual urban explorations that I have made. A future trip that I am considering is up a tunnel from which echoes this most incredible roar. An upstream wade in neoprene should prove quite interesting as I suspect that it leads to an under-city waterfall.

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