August 24, 2011

August 24, 2011

From Los Banos, CA we head west up into California’s Coastal Range. Travel in California is easy parallel to the coast but difficult east and west. The Sierra Nevadas and the Coastal Mountains separate California into strips of land. We wind along a narrow twisting road till we arrive at Pinnacles National Monument. The Monument consists of the ragged remnants of a volcano that erupted millions of years ago here. Well not really here. It erupted near Los Angeles. Half the volcano slid up here with each earthquake along the San Andreas Fault. The rest is still in L.A.

From the Visitor Center we hike straight uphill to see the craggy peaks. They are not impressive. Even though Teddy Roosevelt proclaimed this a Monument in 1908, it seems a little weak. I was shocked when the ranger said Congress is thinking of elevating it to National Park status. Sounds like a political payoff!

Despite the visual weakness, Aimee and I do enjoy the unique flora and fauna of the Coastal Range. Aimee spots wild turkeys, several Acorn Woodpeckers and what we hope are three California Condors (and not Turkey Vultures). I myself am happy to have finally found a Coulter Pine. Despite being small and straggly, these trees produce the world’s heaviest pinecone. Plus the cones are armed with jagged spikes turning them into Nature’s Hand Grenade. We are thinking we need hard hats hiking around them.

Pinnacles is Tucson-like hot and dry, so we quit our hike after a couple hours and head out of the park along some more winding roads to the Salinas Valley where we link up with the 101. We are again in America’s garden although this time it is rabbit food, lettuce and broccoli. Nowhere else in the US will you find dozens of old school busses pulling port-a-potties cruising the highway. (They are carrying migrant workers picking the crops.)

Eventually we make it to Monterey where we make a hard left and head south along the coast. We are looking for Big Sur but a thick layer of fog covers almost all the coast including the iconic Bixby Bridge. When we get to Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park, the campground is full but they let us camp in the parking lot for $35. Welcome to California.

August 23, 2011

August 23, 2011

Even though the weather is wonderful, staying at Yosemite Valley is getting to be too much of a hassle for us; so we head out this morning. We take the southwest gate this time and stop at the Mariposa Grove. In 1864 Abraham Lincoln took time out from the Civil War to protect this stand of Sequoia trees (along with Yosemite Valley).

Since Yosemite gets so much traffic, seeing the Sequoias is time-consuming. When we get to the Mariposa turnoff, we find the parking lot is full so we have to park at the gate and board a shuttle into the grove. The entrance has a few Sequoias. To see the big ones we have to hike more than an hour uphill. Aimee and I are thankful we are no longer at 8000 feet. The upper grove is nicer but we both much prefer Sequoia National Park. It is has bigger trees and fewer visitors.

Afterwards we descend almost to sea level into the San Joaquin valley, America’s garden. At one point we drive a solid fifteen minutes through nothing but Pistachio trees. There had to be millions of trees. Somebody eats a lot of nuts. Later we pass by tomato fields and grape vineyards. All this food is making us hungry so we stop at a roadside stand and buy a bag of pistachios and oranges for $5.

So far in our California travels we have seen nothing but barren deserts, high mountains and vast farmlands. You wouldn’t guess California is the most populated state. We spend the night in the town of Los Banos. Who would name their town “The Toilets”???

August 22, 2011

August 22, 2011

We were only able to get a one-night reservation for Yosemite Valley. But we know the tricks of the National Parks so we are up early today, carrying our coffee to the ranger station. We are first in line. Based on prior experience we should easily be able to get a cancellation that will let us stay for a few more nights in Yosemite National Park. When 8am rolls around the ranger says nothing is available and we have to come back at 3pm. We still have first dibs if we come back, but there is no guarantee. We have to temporarily park the RV outside the campground till we have a new site.

Knowing I travel with my lucky charm, I am not worried; so we head off to a Photography walk led by the Ansel Adams Studio. Ansel is hands down the most famous landscape photographer. The shop is still owned by his descendents. I don’t learn much about taking better photos, but the guide does alert me to some good vantage points.

We spend most of the day walking in Ansel Adams footsteps, taking photos throughout the valley. I posted the above in black and white in Ansel’s honor.

At 3pm we return to the ranger station and find there are plenty of cancellations but unfortunately not one is for more than one more night. I have lots to say about the reservation system at Yosemite but most comments can’t be printed. On the plus side our new site is pretty nice. It is on the bank of the babbling Merced River. Aimee just loves the sound of running water.

August 21, 2011

August 21, 2011

We seem to have really overshot looking for cooler weather. Summer is very fleeting at high altitude. The last couple nights got down near freezing. Our thin Arizona blood can only handle so much. So this morning we decamped and coasted downhill to Yosemite Valley.

Yosemite Valley was not discovered until 1851 when soldiers went chasing after some Indians. I am not surprised since the entrance to Yosemite is a narrow V-shaped canyon. Only after many miles does it open into the famous vertical granite valley. Unfortunately it is being loved to death. The crowds are thick. We head immediately to our campsite to lose the RV and the first thing we notice is the moderate temperature. We found what we were looking for! The rest of the afternoon Aimee and I take a leisurely stroll thru the valley soaking up the ambience. We keep looking up at North Dome and can’t believe we were atop it yesterday.

August 20, 2011

August 20, 2011

Yesterday the camp host (a New Yorker) recommended a hike to North Dome. The Porcupine Creek trailhead is only ten miles away, so we decide to give it a shot. The trail was nice but nothing special, but…it had a pot of gold at the end. North Dome as we come to find out is Half Dome’s counterpart sitting atop the eastern end of Yosemite Valley. Even though we are still some thirty miles from Yosemite Valley, by road, we are only a few miles as the crow flies. After four miles through the forest the trail emerges onto bare granite. It makes Aimee very nervous. (It doesn’t help that a lady died last week in similar circumstances sliding off Half Dome.) But Aimee troops on through to the end.

We sit on this dome of granite, with Half Dome staring us in the face, eating our trail lunch and soaking up the scenery. We watch the bustle of cars far below in the Valley. The only disappointment is the thick haze covering the valley, probably the result of the thousand campfires that burned in the valley last night. We sit for probably an hour hoping some of the haze will blow away and that the sun would travel far enough to shine on the face of Half Dome. Neither occurred. We hike back with a brief side detour to pretty Indian Rock arch. We are tired after we get back. It was a ten-mile, six-hour hike at high altitude. We are not getting any younger.

August 19, 2011

August 19, 2011

This morning we finish our tour of the June Lake loop. This short road goes past several more lakes. I am amazed at the concentration of alpine lakes we have seen in the greater Mammoth Lakes region. I guess it is a reflection of the number of glaciers that used to cover this area. In the middle of the June Lake loop we spot the best vista, Horsetail Falls. It is a spreading falls way up on the cliff top that can be seen for miles.

From June Lake we drive north to the town of Lee Vining. We call the park system and get a campsite in Yosemite Valley two days from now thanks to a cancellation. In the meantime Aimee and I decide to hang out in one of the campgrounds on the plateau high in Yosemite National Park. So we drive up the steep Tioga Pass road into the park. The topside of Yosemite is basically all smooth granite with some forests growing here and there. It is an amazing place. Unfortunately we pass most of it by. Aimee has me worried. It is Friday, and the road is packed with cars, so she thinks we need to find a campsite. We have three campgrounds to pick from. We pass the first. Full. Hmm. At the Tuolumne Meadows Visitor Center, the board said the next two have availability, but that was as of four hours ago. The ranger says we better hurry. We drive to the next one. Full also. Uhoh. We race to the last one. Full. We are experienced National Park goers. How can we have screwed up this bad! We are many miles from any alternative. We are going to have to punt and skip Yosemite. On a lark I drive thru the “full” White Wolf campground to look for the camp host. I put on my best salesman smile and ask about overflow options. She hems and haws and finally says she has a spot. In fact she has several. It turns out she saves a few sites for problems. Whew! That was a close call. We spend the rest of the day relaxing in our campsite and giving thanks for our good fortune (and persistence).

August 18, 2011

August 18, 2011

One of the reasons the eight-mile road to Devils Postpile is reserved for busses and campers is that it is treacherous. The first four miles is a narrow winding cliff-hugging road. It made Aimee very nervous. On the route in, Aimee closed her eyes and yelled for me to go slow; I went fast because I don’t know how a bus and my wide RV can possibly share this road. We got lucky on the way in and only met a car. I am not taking any chances on the exit trip; so we rise early and drive out still in our pajamas. Once we are safely out of the Monument, we stop at the Vista turnout, and have our coffee and breakfast while enjoying the stunning view of the jagged Minarets.

After breakfast, we make a stop at the Earthquake Fault geologic fissure exhibit. Because of the intense mountain building going on, the ground here pulled apart some six feet leaving a deep scar on the terrain.

Our next stop is the Lake Mary area just south of Mammoth Lakes. There are a half-dozen alpine lakes close together with easy road access. It is also very crowded with lots of families. We make a driving tour looking for a good campground. When we pass Horseshoe Lake we notice lots of dead trees lining it. It turns out that geologic activity of Mammoth Mountain is spewing Carbon Dioxide killing the trees. This volcano stuff is giving Aimee the willies so we pass on staying here and drive north to June Lake where we find a spot and relax for the afternoon.

August 17, 2011

August 17, 2011

Well if we were looking for cool weather we found it. It got pretty cold last night in our uninsulated home. I wish I had turned the furnace on before we went to sleep. But I shouldn’t be too surprised since we are at nearly 9000-foot altitude.

We are planning a lazy day today. We are just going to do a medium hike and then hang out in the campground. At least that was the plan. We didn’t account for the bus ride to and from, the walk to the trailhead or the minor “getting lost” detour. When we get back close to 5PM, we are both exhausted. We are also not used to the altitude!

On the positive side, it was a gorgeous mountain hike through the Ansel Adams Wilderness that started on the Pacific Crest Trail then switched to the John Muir Trail. The view of Mammoth Mountain is majestic. Along the way we passed numerous small Sequoia trees. They are either young or more likely stunted since we are on the dry side of the Sierras. We ended at Shadow Lake. The only downside of the hike (and our campsite) is the very fine gray dust everywhere. I have been to enough western locations to know it is probably Tuff or volcanic ash. It is just another reminder that every mountain here on the West coast is a dormant volcano waiting to erupt.

August 16, 2011

August 16, 2011

Even though we drove many hours north on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevadas, apparently we are in Los Angeles. It seems people do value this area, but for only one reason. Water. Many years ago LA bought all the land around here to garner the water rights and built a large aqueduct to drain it south. On the positive side there has been no development and the whole area is a recreational playground.

Last night we stayed in the cute town of Lone Pine in the shadow of Mt. Whitney the tallest peak in the lower 48. We are finally across the desert where the weather is cooler and the scenery beautiful. Now we can slow down.

Ten miles north we stopped at Manzanar National Historic Site. It is the location of one of a dozen internment camps that west coast people of Japanese ancestry were relocated to during WWII. The museum is very well done. While there were some initial physical hardships the experience was mostly an emotional tragedy. Being treated as a criminal without cause. Much of what happened in many ways was just a culmination of a century of prejudice against the Asian immigrants.

From the museum, we took the auto tour around the large camp which looked eerily similar to a concentration camp, albeit one with some nice views of the mountains. At its peak the camp held over 10,000 people.

From Manzanar we continued north along the Sierras climbing ever higher until we came to the Mammoth Lakes area. This is a big winter ski destination and apparently just as big a summer stop. We drove thru the town, past the ski lifts to Devils Postpile National Monument. The last eight miles is restricted to busses only unless camping within the park. This is just another example of why RVing is the only way to see the National Parks.

At the Monument we quickly find a campsite and don our hiking gear. A half-mile down the trail we run into the Postpile, a strange geologic feature that looks like a bunch of black pencils stacked on end. From the top each pencil is a hexagon, making it look very man-made. We continue another two miles on the trail to beautiful Rainbow Falls.

August 15, 2011

August 15, 2011

We crossed the Colorado and headed uphill from the Sonoran Desert to the Mohave. Mohave is the high desert and what grows here is different. But so far not much of anything, not even cacti. It is mostly barren making Tucson look like a jungle. Eventually we come to the Mohave National Preserve at the heart of the desert. When I was a small child we drove to California along Rt. 66. I remember my father being worried about this last section thru the Mohave. No wonder, it is desolate. Thinking those thoughts must have jinxed me. When we finally got to the Visitor Center on the site of an old desert ghost town, Aimee notices that one of my tires is flat. Great, just great!? A two day old tire nonetheless! Fortunately at the last minute, I packed our emergency tire pump and after twenty minutes I got enough air into it to make driving a little safer. It seems to be holding. I am crossing my fingers that the valve stem just got a little dirt in it.

A little calmer, we head into the Visitor Center for a quick run-through. It is located inside the town’s restored train station back when trains were super labor-intensive and an iron ore mine operated nearby. Now the train glides right by without stopping.

Mohave National Preserve has several distinct environs including a monster sand dune, a volcanic lava field, granite mountains and an extensive Joshua tree forest. We exit the park thru the forest. Unlike Joshua Tree National Park, these trees are more stunted but much more prolific. It almost looks like a Joshua orchard.

From Mohave we drive most of the day north following the eastern edge of the Sierras. This side is in the rain shadow of the mountain range and is bone dry and desolate. Southern California could easily be given to Nevada or Arizona and nobody would care (or know).

August 14, 2011

August 14, 2011

It has been almost a year since we have been RVing. We (make that I) am getting itchy to start traveling again. We have spent most of the year playing golf and trying to get our money’s worth from joining the local club.

We got the motor home out of storage a couple days ago, bought new tires and got it packed in record time. We took off heading northwest just before lunchtime. It feels strange, but I am getting used to it again. Like riding a bike. Most of the southwest is pretty hot, and it gets steadily hotter as we pass thru the heart of the Sonoran Desert. After five hours we arrive at the town of Parker, AZ on the bank of the mighty (tamed) Colorado River. We find a shady spot to park and crank the A/C on high until the sun goes down.

August 8-9, 2011

August 8-9, 2011

With this week’s stock market crash putting a major crimp on our cash flow, we stopped in Amarillo on our westward journey to mooch a free place to stay with Aimee’s sister. I worked off our indebtedness doing some handy man work around the house.

From Amarillo, TX we drove two hours southwest across the border to Clovis, NM. In archeological circles, Clovis is world famous. In countless museums and TV documentaries, I kept hearing about “Clovis points”. I had to stop and find out what was so special about these old Indian arrowheads.

Our first stop is the Blackwater Draw dig, where we are greeted by a very talkative grad student of Eastern New Mexico University. He turns out to be a fountain of information. The migration of man to North America was thought to be a recent phenomenon until arrowheads were discovered here in 1929 inside a fossilized Mammoth skeleton. Radiocarbon analysis dated it to 12,000 years ago at the end of the last Ice Age. The arrowheads have a distinctive fluting, differentiating them from later cultures. Since that discovery Ice-Age “Clovis sites” have now been found throughout North America. It was interesting to note that the flint for these arrowheads came from the Alibates quarry north of Amarillo that we visited 18 months ago.

We walked the trail that circles the dig site reading the interpretative signs. At the end of the Ice Age, this area was much cooler and a spring-fed lake here attracted all the mega mammals of the era from mammoth to camel to saber toothed tiger. All over this former gravel quarry archeologists have found bone beds mixed with Clovis points.

From the dig site we drive twelve miles to the Blackwater Draw Museum. It is pretty good but it has way more information than we have time for today. For some reason the Clovis culture disappeared at the same time many of the mega fauna went extinct. Some blame it on over hunting by the Clovis while others think a comet struck the earth.

Continuing southwest, we are on the lookout for cooler weather. We find it again crossing the mountains of central New Mexico. We take a short break from driving and visit Smokey Bear Historical Park. In 1944, the forest service began using the character of Smokey to promote fire safety. In 1950 a small bear cub was found badly burned clinging to a tree near here. He immediately became the personification of the advertising. We breeze thru a small museum on the history of Smokey and then walk to see his gravesite. Smokey Bear is one of the most recognizable characters throughout the world.

From Capitan, NM we drive the rest of the day arriving home to Tucson very late.

August 7, 2011

August 7, 2011

Yesterday we fished near where the Buffalo River empties into the White River. It was very picturesque because the opposite shore was a tall sheer cliff face. On our way west we decided to follow the Buffalo River upstream. Our first stop was at the Visitor Center for the Buffalo National River. There we learned that the Army Corps of Engineers had plans to build a dam on it like they had done with most of the other Ozark Mountain streams. To preserve it, local conservationists got the Buffalo designated the first National River.

From the Visitor Center we walked along the shoreline of the river. Here the opposite bank is also lined with a sheer rock face. Unfortunately this time of the year, the water level is very low scuttling our plans for a canoe trip. We would have had to paddle all the way. Instead we drive upstream to the Ponca Wilderness area. Here the Buffalo is lined with its tallest and most picturesque cliffs soaring almost 500 feet high.

Afterwards we continue west out of the Ozark Mountains. Although very scenic, the whole region is fairly isolated with few roads. After a few hours following narrow, winding roads we emerge on the west side of the state and spend the evening in Oklahoma.

August 4-6, 2011

August 4-6, 2011

Aimee and I are staying in a cabin at the junction of the White and Norfork Rivers in northern Arkansas. With the Midwest suffering a terrible heat wave, I was looking for some temporary relief. Last year we found it exploring caves and traveling way north. A closer alternative is standing in these rivers. Both rivers are tail waters off tall dams making the water ice-cold. Very refreshing despite the near constant fog. While I am cooling off I toss in a fishing line. I catch quite a few trout but none are worth taking a photo of. I must be rusty after five years of desert living. The only saving grace is that none of my relatives has any better luck.

August 2-3, 2011

August 2-3, 2011

For the last two weeks we have been in the Midwest visiting family and friends and eating lots of pies. We planned on it being a little vacation from the heat of Arizona, but it was more like being tossed from the skillet into the fire. There is no escaping the humidity.

Today we are starting the journey back home. Like all travels with me, it is not a straight shot. We took advantage of not having the RV with us to do some city touring of the St Louis area. Our main stop was Forest Park which is always a pleasure to visit. There we stopped at the Art Museum, which has a couple pieces representing almost every style and period of art. From there it was on to the Missouri History Museum. It was mostly disappointing except for the two in-depth exhibits on the 1904 St Louis World’s Fair and favorite adopted son, Charles Lindbergh, and his epic trans-Atlantic flight.

After spending the night in town with my sister, the next day we stopped at the mostly boring Laumeier Sculpture Park before heading to Jefferson Barracks Military Post. Located on the bluffs of the Mississippi, it was an important army installation from 1826 thru the end of WWII. There are a couple small museums located in the two remaining stone powder magazines but they are not well done. From St Louis, we head southwest where we spend the night in Norfork, AR.

June 20, 2011

June 20, 2011

Aimee has a love-hate relationship with wildlife. Too close and screams ring out. But at a safe distance, she is enchanted. Lucky for her, our new home has given her mostly the latter. Hummingbirds and noisy Gila woodpeckers monopolize feeders outside her kitchen window. An occasional bobcat will walk thru the yard. All day lizards of all sizes scamper around the yard on the prowl for scorpions, sometimes a little too close. A few days ago while sitting by the pool, a gecko darted toward her and tongue-snatched a bee buzzing around her wet shoes. The show doesn’t stop with sundown. That is when the bats start fluttering through the air and the coyotes begin to howl.

But by far Aimee’s favorite attraction has been a family of owls. We knew something was up when two Great Horned Owls started frequenting a big cottonwood at the back edge of the yard. The Great Horned is the largest owl species in North America. After a month watching the pair sit high in the treetop every evening, three owlets suddenly came on the scene. Like clockwork this family comes out of the nest an hour before dark and every evening Aimee is waiting by the back fence. She is enamored with them.

The owlets remind me too much of human teenagers taking their time to grow up. They sleep all day, stay up all night hooting and screeching. The three hang out together either head bobbing on branches or strutting around on the ground like skinny turkeys. Plus they are terrorizing the neighbors. Dove feathers litter the neighborhood. A trail of blood stains one corner of the house. The doves are not giving up; they are back on the nest trying to crank out a new generation.

May 19, 2011

May 19, 2011

Even though it is May, we awake to snow. Since we don’t see it often, I don’t mind at all. In fact we enjoyed a leisurely drive south thru snow-covered pine forests. Halfway back we stop at Tuzigoot National Monument. This is a National Park location we missed on previous trips thru the area.
The Visitor Center museum is closed for renovations, so we head on to the short self-guided tour. Tuzigoot is the ruins of an ancient Indian pueblo that sits like a castle atop a small hill. This stone “condominium” maybe held some 200 people. Sitting next to the Verde River the Indians cultivated corn in the valley. For some forgotten reason they deserted the site around the year 1400.

We got home in the evening. I took a quick swim in the pool to wash away the memories of this morning’s snow.

May 16-18, 2011

May 16-18, 2011

The recent visit by my relatives renewed our interest in hiking. Aimee decided it was time for a repeat of our favorite all-time hike. The Grand Canyon. So she called a few times and easily got us a cancellation at Phantom Ranch. Normally this has to be made over a year in advance. After a morning round of golf we loaded the car and got to the south rim shortly after sundown. We checked into Bright Angel Lodge and drove blindly in the dark trying to find an open parking spot. Since the Canyon is not lit, I didn’t realize till the next morning I parked within feet of the edge. Good thing my brakes held.

Midmorning, We made our way to the South Kaibab trailhead and started our descent. It was stunning. The only downside was the wind; at times it was gail force with Aimee fearing she might get swept off. At Phantom Ranch, we toasted our arrival with a cold beer from the bar while listening to the afternoon ranger talk. By dinner we were famished; the stew dinner never tasted better.

Our luck didn’t last. Yesterdays wind blew in a storm front. It rained off and on the whole trek uphill turning the trail into mud. By the time we got to the top the rain had frozen into hail. On the bright side the moisture intensified the green and red colors of the canyon. Beautiful.

Between the cold, the altitude and the vertical climb, Aimee and I are exhausted by the time we get to the top. After a hot chocolate, it is into bed for a recuperating nap.

April 27, 2011

April 27, 2011

My sister Jean came to visit this week. I put my brother-in-law to work with a laundry list of gardening chores thinking that would keep him busy all week. He was a ball of energy and finished on the second day; I need to find alternative amusement to wear them out. After the standard warm-up hike around the area, Aimee and I decided to take them on our favorite hike of southern Arizona. We packed the car and headed two hours east to Chiricahua National Monument. Chiricahua is a rock wonderland formed from volcanic eruptions millions of years ago. It has to be the largest concentration of balancing rocks anywhere. I lead them on a 3.5-mile hike thru the middle of this awesome scenery.

My sister was a history major so I figure she would also love the Fort Bowie hike just up the road. It was the ground zero for the Apache Wars. After driving eight miles down a dirt road we arrive at the trailhead. The first stop on the hike is the foundation of a stagecoach rest stop. Jean is already imagining herself crossing this wilderness in a very bumpy and dusty horse-drawn vehicle. A hundred yards beyond is a large cemetery. It seems most were killed by Apaches. Apaches were not the farming type and instead preferred to live by raiding. They had to keep coming back to this spot because of the natural spring here. Despite no rain in six months, this water source continues putting out cold water. It feels great splashed on my head. At the top of the pass is the park Visitor Center and the few remaining walls of Fort Bowie. From here the army went out in search of Cochise, and then later Geronimo. By the time we get back to the car my sister is finally tired. She celebrates the experience by watching the John Wayne movie, Stagecoach.

March 30, 2011

March 30, 2011

Aimee bought me a Cuisinart Food Processor for my birthday. Since she was so thoughtful I bought her an early birthday present. A solar electric generating system. The one thing we have an abundance of in Arizona is sunshine. We already have a solar pool heating system to harvest some of that energy. That system pumps the pool water onto the roof of the house to be warmed in black mats of small plastic lines. The heater means we can open the pool a month or two early.

We have lots more space on the roof, so I thought Aimee would like to go “green” and add some solar cells. A crew of three came to the house and over the course of four days installed 34 solar panels on the roof, enough to generate a years worth of electricity for us. The production has been remarkably steady in this first week of operation. We made exactly 41 kilowatt-hours each day. That is more than twice what we need right now, but the local utility is storing it for us and will give it back this summer when we turn on the A/C and need more than we can make.

I like the idea of reducing our impact on the environment but I have to admit I like the economics even better. Because my fellow taxpayers are so generous they subsidize over 75% of the cost of the system. All things considered solar is going to cut our electricity costs in half. Plus we will never see a price increase from the electric company.

Hmmm. I am thinking Aimee might like one of those new electric cars for her next birthday.

March 22, 2011

March 22, 2011

Age has not been kind to me lately. For the last two years my eyes have gotten progressively worse forcing me to start wearing glasses again. I could have lived with that. Unfortunately stronger lenses every six months is no longer fixing the problem. The eye doctor says I have developed cataracts, a cloudening of the flexible lens inside the eye. The doctor rudely ignored all my pleas that I am too young.

I have finally been backed into a corner. Without surgery I am getting so I can't play golf, see writing on the TV or drive the car at night. So I relent. I initially figured this was going to be like my prior Lasik operations. A quick zap by a laser and it is over shortly after I lay down. Not so. This is real surgery with anesthesia. As I lay on the gurney, they attach heart rate and oxygen sensors and start an IV and I ask myself what did I get myself into. Just before I change my mind and leave, the drugs must have kicked in, because the next thing I know I awaken with the doctor working on my left eye. In a few minutes he is done and they start removing the equipment.

When I remove the eye patch that night, I am pleasantly surprised to find I can see the TV again without glasses. Yeah! And there is a noticeable color improvement between my left and my still to be fixed right eye. That loss of color was so gradual I didn’t notice it. All is not perfect though. To eliminate my cataract, they removed my flexible living lens and replaced it with a plastic version. My eye no longer has any ability to see close. None… newspaper headlines are the smallest I can read. I need to make a big decision before I get the next eye fixed. Should I aim to have the right also optimized for distance and forever be forced to carry “reading glasses” everywhere I go. Or should I have the right eye optimized for “close up” and hope my brain can keep the two visions straight?

March 15 2011

March 15 2011

The calendar says Spring should arrive next week. In Arizona it comes early albeit delayed a bit this year by the hard freeze we had last month. Not only are most of the plants starting to put out new growth, we are expecting twins. Actually two sets of twins. We have a momma dove sitting on two eggs in the dead lemon tree outside the kitchen. Apparently she doesn’t mind all the dead leaves around her. Twenty yards away in the Palo Verde tree Aimee found the tiniest nest, about the size of a large thimble, made of feathers. A hummingbird nest! And she has two eggs also. While I am taking photos, a cottontail hops by me through the gate into the pool area. Uhoh! Another set of twins on the way!

March 3, 2011

March 3, 2011

When we moved to Tucson, I expected to become an Arizona basketball fan. It turned out it was easier to take the boy out of Illinois than the Illini out of the boy. We took our first step tonight and went to one of the last Wildcat home games of the season. Since Michelle Obama’s brother coaches the visiting Oregon State team, I thought I would use our mutual Chicago connection. That and my credit card got me two tickets to the game.

It was a good thing Aimee convinced me not to wear my Illini shirt. Orange is Oregon State’s color too. The game was entertaining but Aimee and I both struggled to understand the local chants of the crowd. At one point near the end of the game with Arizona way ahead, the crowd started yelling, “We want tacos”. We both thought the fans wanted the coach to play the Hispanic players sitting on the bench. That seemed pretty derogatory even by my standards. Actually it was a reference to Jack in the Box offering free tacos if the U of A scores more than 70 points. We had to stop on the way home.

With my deteriorating vision, it was hard for me to follow the game really well. Buying season tickets will have to wait till I get my new eyes or Michelle answers the telephone.

February 22-27, 2011

February 22-27, 2011

We have been playing a lot of golf this year, an expensive sport. With our interest income still in the bunker I suggested to Aimee that it would be nice to get a job to help our golf. Well Aimee did get employment. Though she didn’t get my economic drift. She took another volunteer job; at the local Accenture golf tournament, as a marshal on the 18th hole, helping control the flow of fans.

I recommended that she try to get the last hole. That may have been ideal for a typical tournament. But this was match play where it turned out most pairings were concluded well before the 18th. Still she had fun and maybe learned a few things by watching the world's best 64 golfers.

Tucson has been host for this tournament the last five years. The region has been on pins and needles waiting to hear if it would continue. Sunday, the final day, may have been the nail in the coffin.

The tournament moved here because of rain delays in California. At the time Tiger told the media it doesn’t rain in Tucson …ahh but it does snow, once in a blue moon. And Sunday was our blue moon. On the bright side it all melted by 10am. But to add insult to injury, play was halted again, albeit only a few minutes, because it began to hail, just on one hole!

February 3, 2011

February 3, 2011

Everything in Tucson is designed for warm weather. Chicago winters just don’t occur here, so water pipes can be left unprotected and we plant palm and citrus trees in the yard. Apparently Mother Nature didn’t hear about Global Warming; she hit us with a sucker punch to the gut last night. And not just a few hours below freezing. We dropped to a 100-year low of 17F. That is enough to burst pipes and cause natural gas shortages around here.

I can dig my old winter clothing out of storage and delay my shower till the pipes thaw, but my garden isn’t as understanding. It looks like my citrus orchard days have come to an abrupt end. Despite my best efforts of covers and heating lights, the trees look very sick. If there was any chance of recovery, it was dashed with a second hard freeze again tonight.

Not seeing value in a tree of frozen orange juice, I picked everything that looked close to full-size. I guess Aimee and I are going to be drinking lots of Margaritas, Screwdrivers and Limoncello shots for the next few months.

December 31, 2010

December 31, 2010

Our string of travel luck came to a halt today. Yesterday we basked in Arizona-like 60F weather; this morning we woke to an ice storm. What a difference a few hours can make.

After scraping a quarter-inch of ice from the car, we crept carefully along a country highway to Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve. Before farmers arrived, the central US was a sea of grass. The eastern half grew grasses taller than me although I suspect buffalo kept it trimmed shorter. Eastern Kansas contains the “Flint Hills”. The rocky hilly terrain of this locale kept the plow away. Here the native grasses make their last stand.

Despite notices to contrary, the Preserve Visitor Center was closed today. Surrounding it is an historic ranch complex. Not surprisingly wood is scarce and stone plentiful in the Flint Hills. So unlike Illinois, here both your barn and outhouse are built of limestone. Very nice! After a quick look around, I am back in the warm car.

There Aimee informs me the cell phone is missing. And our emergency phone is dead. We must have left it in the hotel, so we return on the icy highway only to discover the phone under the car seat. Aimee and I both blame each other for that fumble. To really make it a bad day my navigator died. My electronic one. Now we are flying blind. I point the car straight south in search of ice-free roads. We spend the night in Amarillo, TX visiting with Aimee's sister.

The next day, we dig the paper map out, turn the heater on full blast and drive the rest of the way home to Tucson. We didn’t really need the map; all we had to do was follow the continuous line of motor homes going that direction.

December 30, 2010

December 30, 2010

After celebrating the holidays with both sets of relatives, we are ready to head home. The Midwest is having a warm spell so this is our window of opportunity to make it across the Snow Belt safely. We leave in the morning and by mid-afternoon we cross the border into Kansas and arrive at the Fort Scott National Historic Site. Fort Scott was built in 1842 as one of a half dozen forts established to guard the “permanent” frontier. West of this line was reserved for the Indians. Permanent was very short lived. The fort closed a mere eleven years later. With the Mexican War, the US now extended to the Pacific. With the passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854, new territories were to determine for themselves whether they would be slave or free. Both sides poured into “Bleeding” Kansas to influence the vote. Violence erupted. The first skirmishes of the upcoming Civil War. Troops were brought back to Fort Scott to help quell the violence.

We learned most of this history in exhibits scattered around the reconstructed fort. It is well done but oh so similar to most of the other forts in the park system.