The Adventures of Don & Carol Croft: Episode 63, Planned CIA Reception at Mt. Shasta, Part 3

The Adventures of Don & Carol Croft

Episode 63

Planned CIA Reception at Mt. Shasta, Part 3

By Don Croft <terminator3@turbonet.com>
http://educate-yourself.org/dc/adc63pt3plannedciadeceptionatshasta02may03.shtml
May 4, 2003
Pluto's Cave-Day Three (Sunday 5/4/03)
We'd saved this gifting area for last because it has a reputation for abduction (by CIA/Satanists, presumably) and we were specifically warned to
go there armed.

We gifted the town of Mt. Shasta with about sixty towerbusters, mostly in the residential areas, to assist the the weaning of Borg members away from the old predatory/parasitic hierarchy associated with St. Germain. Carol said the old fart was pretty ragged by the time we got up that morning an that his true form was becoming more and more evident to the Bailey-Theosophy-oriented devotees, worldwide. We decided to re-apply the Shiva and geometry/crystal device to him each night for awhile after that. We'd used that combination on David Lees but it had little effect on him, perhaps because he's got more human ancestry than the other fellow does.Carol wanted to pick up some Powerwand-sized Lemurian crystals from a new store she'd heard about in the town, 'The Crystal Room,' so when they opened at 11AM we took stock of what was in the store and discussed our needs with Beth Wilson, the owner. She's very well acquainted with the stones and is careful to make sure that each stone that is sold is going to the right person.

She has several singing bowls for sale, each made of crystal. One of them, made of rose quartz, is the only successfully completed rose quartz bowl, she said, because the manufacturing process tends to create air pockets in rose quartz and the bowls explode when they're reheated in the final step of the process. The crystal is ground almost to dust, then heated to 4,000 degrees F, cast in a centrifugal mold, allowed to cool, then heated to that temperature again, at which time it becomes re-crystallized in the new form.

She's found that the F-sharp tone bowls resonate with what she calls the 'high heart' tone in people and that the Lemurian crystals also resonate to that tone. Cbswork had given us a little demonstration at his house a month before of the relative F-sharp tones of the Lemurian seed crystals compared to the C note tones of all the earth crystals and semiprescious minerals. Beth wasn't aware of this distinction, so her findings about F-sharp were quite a confirmation for us.

The reason I was most impressed with her, though, is that she's aware of the importance of objective science in the investigation of the properties of minerals. She recommends, to every customer, the handbook, CRYSTAL POWER, CRYSTAL HEALING, by Michael Gienger, which is the first book about the metaphysical characteristics of minerals and crystals that I've personally found valuable.

Gienger is an Austrian who applied scientific principles to his own native ability to discern the healing properties of minerals. In the early 1990s, as a naturopathic student, he initiated controlled studies involving a large number of volunteers of all ages from a cross section of society, much the same way that our cloudbuster forum has been informally set up, to find the common effects of specific minerals on human health and consciousness.

He was able to relate his knowledge of the genesis and chemistry of each mineral to the influences of that mineral on people. The book is an exhaustive study of these aspects and rates well as a textbook in any school or university, in my opinion, because of its objectivity. The book was first published in 1996 but was only recently translated into English.

That shop is a magnet for energy sensitive people and truth seekers, I think, and Beth's well-grounded, dogma-free approach creates an open atmosphere there so that everyone who goes there feels welcome and enriched.

Beth characterizes, for me, what can be done commercially in the field of metaphysics when one is free of dogmatic limitations. It was a distinct pleasure and surprise to meet her in Mt. Shasta. If you want to make an extra special Succor Punch, Powerwand or any other crystal-based device, I hope you'll contact her for a Lemurian crystal. They cost more than ordinary quartz crystals but are well worth the extra money. Her email address is crystals@snowcrest.net ; her business phone number is (530) 918-9108, and her website, which she tells me needs updating, is www.crystalsmtshasta.com .

I guess it's worth telling that a woman who was sent by the I AM hierarchy came into the store soon after we arrived and stayed there until we left. We didn't interfere with that one because we wanted her to know what we were doing there and that we're not monsters. Most of the people in the I AM 'Borg' won't miss a beat when they find out that they've been serving an unworthy master and then drop their affiliation with that hierarchy, we believe. We tossed all those TBs out in the town to help them make the transition from spiritual slavery to freedom.

Only a tiny number of people near the top of the I AM organization know the true nature of Hilarion/St. Germain and the purpose of all that mind control. These are the ones who also affiliate with the CIA and are willing to do bad things to promote their group's true agenda. Many of the rank and file of that 'Borg' are self-sacrificing and capable of some pretty heinous actions if they feel their belief system is directly threatened, which probably accounts for the presence, in the pouring rain, of all those people at that remote waterfall, the evening we arrived in the area. The Shiva and Powerwand had little effect on them because they sincerely felt that they were acting within universal law. The boss woman in that group at Burney Falls, who was the main psychic, knew otherwise but she was drawing on the power of a whole lot of innocent psychics to sustain her attacks on Carol.

Also, we weren't aware of their collective psychic scrutiny of our progress up to that point because they didn't carry that 'dirty energy' signature with them when they were astrally peeking at us. All the professional predatory psychics, from the stupid FBI all the way through the CIA/NSA to the ultra-slick ones from the Dark Masters, give off that characteristic etheric stench when they're present. I guess these are the vultures of the astral realm. If you've ever gotten a whiff of an actual vulture as it flies nearby you understand what I mean, though if you have a cloudbuster you won't be seeing any vultures in your neighborhood. Now we know to check on the presence of more innocent peekers when we want to keep what we're doing a secret at the moment. Only the green, untried psychics in cults like I AM lack the discernment to know exactly who they're working for these days, I think, and a new tactic is for someone in the CIA to prevail on the cult hierarchy to use one of their green ones to spy on us. I think this is a fairly desparate measure, since they risk waking up the psychic this way.

It was on the way to Pluto's Cave that Carol had the realization that the Lemurians apparently had shown us the path to the entrance to their city the day before at Indian Springs. We were specifically told that if a path appears beyond the Spring that it means that we've been invited. I guess we just took a rain check this time ;-) We plan to go back this summer to gift the places we just couldn't get to because of deep snow this time, namely Medicine Lake, Black Butte and Heart Lake. The latter is also reputed to be an entry point to the Lemurian City.

I'd expected Pluto's Cave to be close to Mt. Shasta but in fact it's about ten miles from the mountain in a pretty flat area. The entrance actually through a 'sky light' which is the collapsed roof of the huge lava tube. This cave originates from the north, somewhere in Oregon, which is fifty miles away, and Indians were known to have used the lava tube as a sort of underground highway until somebody (the early feds?) dynamited a section of it.

Our impression is that these lava tubes were already in place when Mt. Shasta was formed.

We gifted the entire area in clever ways, as we were told that the CIA often conducts its satanic rituals (personally overseen by St. Germain) inside one of the sections of the cave, which is a lava tube that extends to the north. We were advised that they'd be hunting for the orgonite objects, so we focused our gifting mostly in the cave that had the death stench in it. The other 'caves' are the intact parts of the gigantic lava tube that extends to the south which were separated by skylights. The one farthest south had that peculiar stench and Carol said one spot held something underground that was trying to get out, probably the spirit or spirits of whoever might have been ritually slain and buried there. She says our gifting yesterday freed those spirits by now. That's the southern end of the series of caves. The lava tube is entirely obstructed by stones and debris beyond that.

St. Germain showed up to intimidate our friends at the other end of the lava tube and farther into that cave is where one of them nearly got abducted by one of the CIA psychos right before the old jerk appeared to them, as they were leaving.

By this time the I AM Borg were feeling pretty well defeated. Their biggest, best effort was focuses on our arrival at Burney Falls, two days before, and when they saw that we couldn't be beaten or even slowed down most of them soon realized that we weren't operating outside of universal law and they simply quit trying to stop us and felt a bit disoriented. The local CIA I AM hit team were still in disarray because their psych boss had thrown in the towel and was no longer on the job at all. The parameters for using the devices around Mt. Shasta were new to us but very instructional. I sometimes think we learn a lot more from our limitations than we do from our strengths.

Carol felt the waiting presence of a couple of people in the cave as we were driving from the county road toward the parking lot, but she later said they were only there astrally, and we juiced them so we could have some privacy during the gifting process.

If you want to do some of your own gifting of Pluto's Cave, take a look to the east from the entrance to the Cave at the end of the path from the parking lot and you'll see a well-maintained gravel road that makes a 90 degree turn. We believe that this is where the killers park when they bring their victims to the cave to be sacrificed. The road is wide there to allow for quite a few parked vehicles. We didn't gift that parking area, so please have at it. We saw a lot of fresh footprints there when we took the wrong path and ended up in that spot instead of at the cave entrance, so some people, probably not tourists, had been there since we arrived in the area, otherwise the heavy rain would have obliterated the prints in the fine volcanic sand two days before that. The cave entrance is .2 miles from the state park's parking lot to the south along a marked trail (we didn't see that and assumed that the bigger, ated roadway to the east was the trail) but it's only about a hundred yards from that road. If you do some exploring and find the reputed ruins of an Atlantean city some distance to the north, underground, let us know and be sure to take some digital pictures. You won't need to worry about getting lost.

Before we had arrived at the cave's parking lot, we had watched a delicate, gorgeous lenticular cloud form all around the top of Mt. Shasta, which was always in clear view as we traveled on the highway around the mountain for 12 miles to the north and east (we took a short detour to gift Lake Shastina on the way). That was replaced by white, puffy cumulus clouds while a vast array of lenticular clouds formed over our heads and along our path toward the cave. By the time we were done the sky over the wide valley, which was formed by countless lava flows from the north, was full of those little lens-shaped white clouds, many of which interlocked in a way that we hadn't seen before. They kept forming in our path later that afternoon, all the way to Klamath Falls, Oregon, where Carol said that the Lemurians just wanted to let us know how much they appreciate what we'd done for them in the area around and on Mt. Shasta and that they were deeply bowing to us. Preventing the Lemurians from interacting with the rest of humanity must have been high on the Great White Brotherhood's genocide agenda.

We spent the night in Klamath Falls and drove all the way home the next day.

On the way, we gifted Crater Lake. The area around it was in deep snow and it looked like we were driving in a louge trough because of the very high snowbanks on either side of the road. Before we got to the snow elevation, though, a very large coyote leisurely crossed the road in front of the car. It was noon and the only other time in our lives we'd been that close to a coyote was during one of the times that the Sasquatch were singing (?) together near our previous home in the woods not far from Newport, Washington, two summers ago. We threw out a towerbuster right after that and kept our eyes open, but we still missed the obvious turnoff to Crater Lake, strange to say. A few miles beyond that, a weasel crossed the road, which was bounded by tall snowbanks by that point, and Carol said we were to start gifting every mile or so after that.

Twelve miles further down the road, we came to a junction that showed us that we'd missed our turn to Crater Lake National Park, so after we gifted a few miles down that other road, we doubled back, found the correct turn (an opening on the left in the snowbank) and went up to the edge of the crater. It took us quite a while before we could figure out a way to get a HHg over the enormous snowbank that obstructed our access to the crater's
edge but we succeeded and went back to the highway, gifting for several miles from the Crater's edge along the way. We got to see some of the colors in the water when a ray of sunlight made its way through the thick cloudcover. The water is 2,000 feet, nearly straight down from the rim of the crater. There's a thousand foot volcanic island near the northern edge of the lake and you can look down into it's crater from the rim.

The lake's about five miles in diameter and the island is apparently on one of the primary points of North America's section of the overall earthstar grid, so some thorough gifting was called for right now in advance of the coming satanic versions of the Weesac Festival on May 15. The power spots on and around Mt. Shasta are primary energizers of the world order's oppressive occult machinery and so is Crater Lake. Taking away their occult power sources is the best way I can think of to defeat these jerks. It's far more elegant, lawful and efficient than shooting them all, especially since there are a dozen eager chumps waiting to take the place of every fallen satanic wonk in the world order..

This was the third time on our gifting excursion that we missed turns and ended up doing something that we hadn't planned for at all. We had assumed that we could just drive around the rim highway and toss out a bucket full of TBs but the rim highway was closed to the public and 20 feet deep snow separated the road from the edge of the crater, anyway. We'd strung out quite an array of TBs along adjacent highways before that and got a HHg into the crater, so the job was well done after all.

Neither of us had ever seen a weasel cross a highway before and we already knew how important it is to pay close attention to all the birds and animals along the way. We saw that one about five miles beyond the turn we missed.

We went up US Highway 97 all the way to the Columbia Gorge after that and when we got to the US 730 turnoff of Interstate 84 on our way home, we took a short detour to the poisonous underground base near Umatilla, Oregon, just to twist their panties again.

The first time Carol went there was in August, in the company of Melody and our friend, Linda Kingsbury. They all got the characteristic metal taste which indicates a high level of ambient nuclear radiation when they drove into the area. They did a bang-up job of gifting the base with several HHgs, so on our second drive-by gifting excursion there in December the radiation wasn't nearly as strong. By the time we gifted it a third time, in early April the radiation was almost gone and on this trip it was apparently not present at all, but we wanted to let them know that we still cared, so this time we drove right up on top of the base and put a titanium HHg on the ground.

The CIA people thought we were still in California at that point, as we were routinely frying all the psychics they sent out to peek on us and every time an Oregon State Trooper spotted us we erased his memory with the devices before he could call us in to the CIA. The Sherriff departments and local police along the way didn't have us on their surveillance lists, Carol said.

After we got about forty miles away from Umatilla, Carol, who was tracking the thoughts of the grumpy Big Boss of the undground facility (this one was wearing the light gray uniform that, to us, indicates the new Homeland Security felons and/or UN military espionage pesonnel), said he sent out hunters in two vehicles with standing orders to shoot us on sight. Though they were only searching in the local area, Carol said he didn't have the authority to order a hit, so we juiced him again with the devices. He's not a killer yet, so the only thing that happened, Carol told me, was that he got terrorized and his extreme anger and frustration turned to fear and hopefully a larger dry cleaning bill. We didn't bother with the drones with the automatic weapons and body armor.

We'll be sure to stop and gift again the next time we're in the area ;-) Carol wonders if the proliferation of house trailers in the vicinity of the base has something to do with the very short lifespans of the miserable people living there. Why buy a house, after all, if you won't likely live to pay off the mortgage?

When we were coming over the crest of Paradise Ridge on our way into the valley where our town is located in Northern Idaho, we saw one of those bright orange Andromedan (according to Carol) ships close to the horizon to the northwest. It was 1:30AM. We hadn't seen one of those since we saw the one on our way through Death Valley, also well after midnight, on our first visit there in November, 2001. Right after we got onto the southbound highway on our way to LA after that, Carol was given the plans for the Big Secret from one of the little guys who were probably from that craft. That happened near China Lake Air Force Base. At the time she was interacting with the dwarf, I saw a field of bright, white light from a craft that had illuminated part of the mountainside on the other side of the base and the lighted area moved slowly up the mountain. I'd seen this happen in a remote spot in Western Canada several years before that. Carol said the light was being projected from their craft.

The first time we saw one of those huge orange craft was in Florida, in January, 2001. On our way, trying to chase it down, we came across a big, halogen-lighted triangle antigravity craft that was obviously doing the same thing we were. The pilot of that secret-government ship obviously didn't see us until we had stopped the car and got out to look at it, at which point the triangle ship banked steeply and moved quietly away. We were a quarter mile from it. Of course the stately, blimp-shaped orange ship was so huge and so far away that we never even got close to it, even after driving directly toward it at sixty miles an hour for ten minutes or so. When you see something like that orange craft, it's impossible to tell if it's five miles away or fifty. The triangle craft was about half the size of a football field and was flying at about five hundred feet altitude. We stopped the car as soon as we spotted that one and our paths were about to converge.

That happened right before we made our first cloudbuster, so maybe some new invention is about to pop into Carol's head, or even into mine ;-) The icosahedron/crystal device came to Carol from these nice folks shortly before she was to visit Malta last summer.

Don Croft

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