The Freedom of Knowledge, The Power of Thought ©
The Adventures of Don & Carol Croft

Episode 65

Welcome to Radioactive Nevada

By Don Croft <>
July 1, 2003

The strangest event of the whole trip was when Carol and I were sitting in the Department of Motor Vehicles in Reno, Nevada, waiting to renew my driver license before we headed home to Idaho that afternoon. It was the day after Richard Leider and ourselves finished disabling all the underground bases in the vicinity of Fallon, Nevada, which is about 80 miles east of Reno in the desert.

Carol was sitting to my right and in the next chair to my left was an angry Homeland Security Abomination agent who was apparently trying to intimidate me. Actually, I didn't even notice the guy at all. I even looked past him and nodded to a couple of friendly people who were sitting a few chairs away. Carol only told me about the guy as we were leaving the building. She was astonished that I didn't notice him, as he was intensely uncomfortable and was looking directly at me, flexing his muscles and exuding animosity. She said she'd given him a long stare to let him know that she'd made him but he wasn't budging. We'd jerked them all around pretty severely in the previous two days, of course. She didn't feel his animosity, which also surprised her. It was his body language that got her attention. She figures that the Harmonic Protectors were shielding us so well from his bad juju.

When we left the crowded building there was a brand new white Lincoln Towncar with no license plates, parked in the handicapped parking spot by the entrance. We both knew it was this sh*tbird's official car, which means he was a boss. I left our business card under his windshield wiper. The card says, 'Don and Carol Croft' with 'Let us entertain you!' in smaller letters underneath. We put our own site, and Stuart Jackson's site, on it.

The Reno cops had obviously told the feds where we were after spotting our car in the parking lot. Those are awfully good cops. I think the Nevada cities can afford the best. We believe that the local, county and state police departments are already growing weary of the Homeland Security Abomination, though. Since the felonious feds have been unable to create any more large-scale American mayhem (since they blew up the World Trade
Center) or to incite Armageddon in the Mideast their obvious Nazi orientation is coming into sharper focus for many people. Richard told us that he saw a picture of the Homeland Security Abomination's paramilitary uniforms (complete with jackboots) and that they're gray. Carol's been astrally seeing more and more gray-uniformed bureaucrats in our 'predator response' missions in the past eight months and they're not usually Americans any more. And we thought FEMA was bad!

We like getting these physical confirmations that we've performed a mission well. I guess if we'd done it any better, that poor guy might have just shot us out of frustration ;-)

We picked Richard up at his digs in Reno on Saturday afternoon. We took a detour on the way to Reno from our home in Northern Idaho in order to look for my wallet, which I had dropped when I put a HHg-the coup de gras--on the 'roof' of the huge underground base in Umatilla, Oregon. I'd taken the opportunity to relieve myself at the same time, as it was dark and there was no traffic and that's when my wallet dropped out of my trousers, we figured. That was on our way back from gifting St.Germain's lair at Shasta two months before, also during the new moon. It so happened that D-Mello, Carol and I had gifted Yellowstone right before the previous full moon. I wonder who's making out our schedule for us. The strangest part is that my driver license had expired the day before that and I'd been assuming it had another year on it. Carol was told that during that time the local cops in our town, right after we neutered 'Hilarion,' were instructed to arrest me for any excuse if I was seen driving a vehicle. Some of the local cops already don't like us because Carol went to the copshop and told them that the next cop that comes sneaking around the back of our house at night will be shot. Only a few of the local cops are the Homeland Security Abomination's buttboys, of course. The one that was behind our house that night was acting for them, not for the local gov't. We like cops in general.

It's a good thing that we took that detour to Umatilla because just east of Touchet, Washington we were nearly run off the road by a flying saucer coming toward us in the opposite lane. Really! In fact we narrowly missed having a wreck when the fuel truck ahead of us pulled off the road to avoid being struck by the truck hauling the disc. The flying saucer was sticking out about ten feet into our lane, carried on a flatbed truck and loosely covered with clear plastic. It was about 30' in diameter and all banged up. There were no vehicles leading or following that truck.

Carol made eye contact with the Homeland Security Abomination passenger in the cab of that truck and she told me he was thinking, 'Oh, SH*T, it's the CROFTS!' and that they'd picked that route to hastily/sloppily remove the crashed alien craft because 'they're just a bunch of hicks in that area, anyway.

TOUCHE-deal with my big mouth yet again, you witless, fake-government thugs! Those are well armed and militarily trained hicks, by the way, you elite, effete, bloody Homeland Security Abomination Pr**ks! ;-) You'd better burn your stupid gray uniforms pretty soon, I think, and learn to fake respectability if you want to avoid prosecution.

We'd sent a thoughtform image of our car off in another direction from Lewiston and the feds were apparently seeing that image down along US95, our customary route to Nevada through Boise. We cloaked our car so that the two or three feds who were checking our detour route wouldn't see us. There were three fedmobiles west of Lewiston along US12 watching for us, so the Homeland Security Abomination was being pretty thorough. They didn't pick us up again until we got to Reno, though. Maybe Carol will let me tell you how we do the cloaking. When I do, you'll probably think, 'Why didn't I think of that?' It's fun to see the feds looking right at us and not recognizing us. That's not their usual poker face, which they use when you make them. It's more like a weasel's look. 'Naked' fed predators are interesting to watch.

A new yellow Volkswagen was waiting for us at the Oregon/California state line and followed us south in the customary surveillance mode (you speed up and slow down and the tail matches the speed at about a tenth of a mile behind you). Carol said he was one of the I AM fanatics out of Shasta, perhaps a retired secret police guy. They're still pretty sore that we spoiled their party. A friend who lives in Weed, which is the city on the northwest slope of the mountain, says that it feels really awful in the city of Mount Shasta, on the western slope, since we ripped the veil surrounding that disgusting Ct. St. Germain. We characterize their new hostility as the hungover next morning after a drunken party. In this case, Alice Bailey started the party in the 1920's or so ;-)

The reason we're not often aware of the I AM psychics' surveillance is that they're not generally bad people, so they don't evince that energy stench of the Homeland Security Abomination psychics, many of whom are apparently enlisted right out of satanist covens. We figure that the I AM cultists are just a bit deluded, but who's perfect, anyway?

We already knew that the fake US gov't has made extensive underground labyrinths in the West Nevada desert valleys because you could see dense brown smog near the ground throughout that region when you drove through it, We didn't want them to know our route or gameplan because there are HUGE secret police resources in that region. They're headquartered in Reno, we knew from our Bohemian Grove/Death Valley gifting mission a year ago. We'd detoured southeast from Sacramento a year ago after doing Bo Grove and it was the first time we ever eluded the secret police for a significant distance. In that case we did it entirely by stealth. There were two aircraft looking for us over Sacramento and when we got near Reno we saw a whole lot of fedmobiles, the drivers of which were apparently unaware that we were targets yet, so we detoured through Monitor Pass. That's when we saw the 'monolith' on a 9,000' peak.

Reno Richard had been at the forefront of the gifting effort for some time and had gone to the Fallon vicinity twice before with a couple hundred towerbusters and a few dozen holy handgrenades. This time, our combined arsenal was about three hundred of the 3oz towerbusters and two dozen HHgs, including three that were made with Lemurian seed crystals.

On our way north from Los Angeles in early April Carol and I had disabled a gargantuan HAARP facility in the southern part of the San Joaquin Valley. We didn't know at the time that Richard had disabled a very large one in the northern part of that valley, near Sacramento, the week before and had carpet gifted downtown Sacramento, which was one of the key occult connections through which the occult regime was siphening earth energy from Mt. Shasta to the north. This ugly occult network was set up in California in the late 1800s, before the area became very populated.

Disabling this West Coast occult network may be the key to disabling this fake US Gov't in the short term, which is why we want to move to California ASAP. If you consider the timing as a factor, the west coast occult net was set up right before the Federal Reserve Corporation was initiated at Jekyll Island, Georgia in 1911. The Jekyll Island Hotel, in which the rituals were performed by mostly European bankers, got one of our very first HHgs two and a half years ago. Somebody else went there and added more recently, I was told. That person is not a declared participant in our informal network, by the way. I think it's terrific that much, perhaps most of the gifting work is done by people who most of us never hear from. That's got to be doubly frustrating for the new Homeland Security Abomination Nazis who desparately want martial law so that they can commit mayhem right out in the open. If you and I don't stop these murderers, who will? If you're reading this I'm assuming that a ride in a railroad cattle car to the guillotine is as repugnant for you to consider as it is for me. No spaceships rescued the Jews and Gypsies on their way to the camps, nor should we expect those favors if we shirk our responsibilities this time.

We decided to go to Monitor Pass first and drop a HHg there, since it's on a major grid line and is apparently important to the bad guys. The 'obelisk' had been reduced in height by about 60% since we'd seen it a year before. After we turned off the highway onto the gravel road leading to that peak we could see that it was actually made of piled flat stones rather than made from a single block. Soon after we dropped the HHg in the bush and were driving back to the highway we encountered the first fedmobile of our excursion. This was a black SUV with darkly tinted windshield and windows. I could barely make out a fellow sitting in the passenger seat, so I assumed this was the SAIC and gave him a friendly wave. The car stopped right after we passed and they were apparently surveying the area, looking for signs of where we'd been. I wouldn't be able to remember where I put the thing, so I'm sure they'll never find it, and we tossed out several TBs to camouflage (amorphise) the holy handgrenade's vibrant orgone field.

Another fedmobile was blocking the road in front of us near the highway but Carol said a psychic was on board that one, so of course we juiced them and they took off fast.

On the way down from the 8,000' mountain pass we encountered a whole lot more fedmobiles and even a killer on a motorcycle rushing up the highway. It was a pretty typical rural fedmobile neo-trafficjam that afternoon. Boy, they all looked angry! Carol said they were supposed to just murder us up there. For the rest of the gifting mission they never got close to us. We'd taken all of their psychics out of the game. I hope you'll do that from now on when you go out gifting. These fake-gov't shi*birds rely heavily on their psychics these days. It's kind of like kids in school relying on calculators and not being able to do equations well on that account.

Apparently the ordinary pavement artists are made quite uncomfortable/afraid when we send them our special love, too, judging by the looks we're seeing on their faces lately.

This morning, on the way home, we were discussing the proclivity that a few people seem to feel to discount the empowering effects of simple objects you can make from ingredients found in any WalMart store. These folks seem to gravitate more toward arcane & complex but ineffective approaches, perhaps in fear of the implications of personal empowerment that our ridiculously-simple approach seems to represent. Along with that come the occasional claims that one is able to disable all of the new transmitters with a single application of some mysterious material-you've seen this from time to time, I'm sure. The first one we encountered was from a fellow who called himself simply, 'Jeshua,' and for $3,000 he'd sell you a device which was allegedly able to stop all the crime in a large city at once and forever. Maybe the jury's still out on that one, since he absconded before he produced any of these ;-) Gosh, maybe he ascended instead of absconded.

In fact, what we are finding is that one may access one's latent ability in order to easily disable predators remotely and even heal serious illnesses but for physical deadly-energy tech and pirated earth energy vortices one needs to place a physical healing energy device in the vicinity to correct the imbalance. There are probably some spiritual growth lessons in this simple truth for us all. I'm probably more fond of shortcuts than most others are but in fact disabling a million dollar deadly-energy transmitter with a 25 cent device qualifies as a shortcut in anyone's reckoning.

Reno Richard, at one time in the company of two locals, busted all of the transmitters in and around Fallon, Nevada and he and Carol had dowsed the maps this time and found the focal points of underground poisonous energy production. Lots and lots of people in that region are dying or have died from cancer and nobody had offered a clear explanation for this local phenomenon. At one of the dowsed locations we found a typical nuke cooling pond-the largest we'd ever seen. We took that one out with four Towerbusters. It usually takes one or two. A sign said it was for 'water treatment' but of course it didn't smell like sewage, as actual water treatment plants always do. Nor was there any aerating equipment.

We used this opportunity to try out an orgonite pendulum that Nancy Langdon had sent to us, as I had promised her that I'd 'test drive' it in the field during a mission. This pendulum turned out to be quite lively and responsive and if you want one you can contact Nancy at

Richard told us that military officers are not allowed to live in Fallon, where there's a pretty big Naval Air Station. They're told to live twenty miles away, outside of the polluted area. In my view, the officers are generally more expendable than the enlisted men, and that's not a prejudicial statement. It rather reflects the old world order's backward, patriarchic view of hierarchy and it reflects my near-desparate desire to remove any intimation of elitism from our own informal group effort.

In a viable military unit the officers are in front during battle because they are the exemplars. Exemplars never excuse themselves from situations that are risky for the troops. Do you remember reading that George Bush, Sr., bailed out of his plummeting aircraft first during WWII and left the crew to perish? His aristocratic self-indulgence exemplifies what I'm trying so hard to stop from happening in our own network. There's no excuse, ever, for elitism. This realization is one of the high-end parts of human nature that we need to reinforce constantly.

The gifting mission was pretty routine, actually. We did the dowsed spots and, because the bases were underneath most of the valleys we drove through we simply dropped TBs every mile or so along the routes and put the HHgs near key spots, choosing them simply by 'feel' and the presence of larger-than-usual above ground facilities.

We started out at that nuke cooling pond in the west, went south to gift a reservoir on the Walker River Indian Reservation and camped overnight there. Everything in the vicinity of our campsite was dead and there was no wildlife as far as we could tell. If you sleep in the desert you're normally in a melee of jackrabbits, coyotes, scorpions, snakes, Big Bugs, etc., because the nightlife in deserts is pretty much the only life. The dust itself was apparently radioactive there because the next day Carol's sinuses were bleeding and the skin on her lips is still peeling, three days later, though she wasn't in the sun much at all. The customary metallic taste was absent due, most likely, to the radiation transmuting effects of our Harmonic Protectors. She hates to think how sick she'd be right now from all that nuclear radiation if she'd had no protection at all.

We started laying TBs every mile, north through Fallon, back west again to the nuke ponds, then surrounded the Fallon Naval Air Station with devices. Lots of feds showed up at the northwest section, which is apparently where one of the main entrances of the underground base is. The presence of all those fedmobiles on the other side of the fence showed us that a HHg needed to be put nearby ;-)

As usual, these days, they did 'hit-and-run' appearances, perhaps just to let us know that they know where we are. We juice them all as a matter of course because these criminals need to know that every action against a sovereign person is a crime, even just 'showing up' in an official capacity because the existence of these agencies is unlawful. They CAN be trained, folks. If you're one of the benighted few gifters who are still in denial about the presence of secret police peekers and are dismayed that your busted towers keep coming back to life, please be more diligent about discouraging them, okay? This is the only way you'll know that they won't find and remove your towerbusters and HHgs right after you put them down.

After that, we drove over a pass and into Dixie Valley because Richard had seen a large, dark funnel-shaped DOR cloud there on his most recent mission to Fallon. Sure enough, there is a Department of Energy facility in the pass leading to the valley. We saw indications of several cave-ins along the way, Carol tossed a TB at the Salt Mines Brothel and we found a Marine Corps installation at the south end of Dixie Valley. We got to use the spudgun by that base to get a TB close enough to a singularly weird tower with a sort of merkaba-shaped device on top of it. The tower is on the perimeter of the base, about a quarter mile from the road.

Going north in the valley we found indications of an underground base that's just as big as the one under the valley that Fallon sits in. We laid a line of TBs and several HHgs, including one Lemu, for about sixty miles before we apparently came to the end of that base. There were fenced-in air vents every mile or so along much of the route. By the time we had traced our steps and left the valley toward Fallon the brown DOR had just about completely dissipated from Dixie Valley already. The DOR was also gone from Fallon.

We went northeast of Fallon to Stillwater, which is a 'National Wildlife Refuge.' That's another term for 'underground base' of course. It was a huge, natural marsh until the feds drained it recently. I don't think they want 'the public' to go there any more. It used to be popular among fishermen and duck hunters before the feds restricted the use and then drove away and/or killed all of the wildlife.

North of Fallon was a huge, standing DOR 'cloud' that resembled a high fog bank. It looked like it was 3 or 4 miles away but in fact we had to drive 15 miles to get close to it. We laid a line of TBs every half mile along the western perimeter of the 'wildlife refuge,' and then drove through Fallon and then north along US95, dropping a line of TBs, then the remaining HHg,s toward the DOR fogbank. By now the wind from the west had picked up to HAARP proportions but the DOR wasn't being blown away. The last HHg was a Lemurian and it was right on the east end of the fogbank.

As we were driving away we could see that the DOR field was already starting to diminish and the next day, as Carol and I were driving past there again from Reno on our way home we could see that the DOR field was entirely gone and that in fact there was no more brown DOR anywhere in the valley that Fallon sits in.


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All information posted on this web site is the opinion of the author and is provided for educational purposes only. It is not to be construed as medical advice. Only a licensed medical doctor can legally offer medical advice in the United States. Consult the healer of your choice for medical care and advice.