Category Archives: animal and plant life

Single Digits and Hundreds of Petroglyphs

4
Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, Education, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

December 26, 2023, Santa Fe- It was 6 F, about ten miles south of Chevelon Butte, along the road between Payson and Winslow, at 6:30, this morning. By the time I reached Winslow, the heat had kicked in and it was a balmy 21 F. Gallup offered 19 degrees and Albuquerque, 37.

Along the route, I saw two coyotes sprinting across the highway, between Stoneridge and Crossroads, in Prescott Valley and, much later, two pronghorns gamboling in the desert, just east of the Rio Puerco Casino, outside Albuquerque. Police were along the highways in force, especially in the early morning hours, when I was driving in darkness. Passing the upended hulk of a wrecked semi-trailer, I felt grateful for their presence.

The main focus of the day, though, was on petroglyphs, the communication medium of pre-writing societies, in many parts of the world. Albuquerque’s Petroglyph National Monument, in the Duke City’s northwest corner, offers hundreds of descriptive figures, in three main clusters. The first, just south of the small Visitor Center, is Rinconada Canyon. This sector features a 2.2 mile loop trail, which took me about 45 minutes, a good part of which was spent noting the depicted animals and people.

West Mesa, at Petroglyph National Monument, Albuquerque.
Easternmost petroglyphs of Rinconada Canyon.
In the upper left hand corner, two beady eyes peer out from a small rock.
This collection reminded me of Newspaper Rock, south of Gallup.
The artists used pigment from plants, to add luster to some of their glyphs, chipping off the naturally-occurring lacquer and applying pigment to the bare stone underneath.
Two fish, a festal cup and a star adorn this rock.
This basalt ledge is one of many that served as a grinding table.
Spanish explorers added their art to the rocks. This “patriarchal” cross is one of many found in the West Mesa rock forest.
Here is an example of a figure that gives rise to speculation about extraterrestrial visitors. Puebloans caution against such speculation, saying we cannot know, for certain, what the ancients had in mind when these scenes were painted.

I went on, to Boca Negra (“Black Mouth”) Canyon. Here, there are three trails: The short Macaw Trail, the moderate Cliff Base and the “strenuous” Mesa Point Trail, which was easily climbed by a three-year-old girl, along with the rest of the group.

Mesa Point Trail:

At the base of Mesa Point, there is quite an assortment of figures.
Mesa Point’s own newspaper.
Looks like Gingerbread Man, with a robot t-shirt!

Here are scenes along Cliff Base Trail

Pupal scorpion?
“Greetings, future ones” ?
Fearsome mask?
One last newspaper clipping

I took a breather, to put gas in Sportage and fuel in my tank-at Which Wich, an innovative shop that uses a combination of technology and “check-off” paper bags, which the diner fills out and the attendant uses, in making the customized sandwich. 

Last, but not least, was Piedras Marcadas Canyon, which co-exists with several housing developments, yet seems a world away, once one is on the trail. There are two options here: Petroglyph View Trail, which goes directly to the scenes, and North Rim Trail, which goes to the top of the mesa-sans petroglyphs. I took the former route.

“Bob” couldn’t help himself. I’ve felt that way, but never given in to the carving impulse.
Here is a more “conventional” astrophysical image.
Finally, a “family” portrait.

There are many more scenes, which will be on my Flickr site, but you get the message(s).

Actual Vacation, Day 4

4
Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

November 23, 2023, Grapevine- The plates were full, the food well-crafted and the three of us, enjoyed every part of this meal-on what, at least to me, is the auspicious 23rd day of the 11th month, in the 23rd year of the 21st Century, AD/CE. Where there is love, there is good food and an attitude of gratitude.

My gratitudes, this year, are many: The program at True North Nutrition, which started me on the systematic loss of forty-seven pounds, between February and November; the growth in my circle of friends-in Prescott, across the continent and in the Philippines, where I connected with a sponsored youth and his mother, chatted up a beleaguered farmer, about whose cause I will be updating quite often, in the months ahead and the Baha’is of the Manila Metro area, three of whom in particular made my stay memorable, through their constant accompaniment; the continued good health of my immediate and extended family; my opportunities for service in the Prescott area-and through the Red Cross, in Watsonville, CA, in the aftermath of a disastrous flood situation, last Spring; the children who let me help them, in their long-term striving to grow and develop their strengths.

As always happens, after the meal, we took to a short, but brisk, trail. Oak Grove Park lies across Grapevine Lake from Rockledge, which we visited last year. There are probably 5-6 miles of short trails, but the three of us stuck to the paved lengths this time. Here are a few scenes of the area.

Near dock, Oak Grove Park, Grapevine
West end of Grapevine Lake, at Oak Grove Park
A boat house, through the trees
Small quartz quarry, Oak Grove Park

This is another of my gratitudes, for the variety of nature that is ever accessible to share. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Death of A Culture?

4
Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 15, 2023- The scene, in a National Geographic Magazine article on orcas of the Southern Ocean, showed three or four females in an orca family systematically using wave action to upend a small ice floe, on which their prey, a Weddell seal, was sheltering. The maneuver was ultimately successful and the dolphins took their food home.

It was then pointed out, that the decline in sea ice has led the seals to find a new home, inland on a rocky landscape. Orcas, and other cetaceans, have no such recourse. Thus, the author concluded, we may be witnessing the death of a culture.

Cetaceans may, over eons, return to the land-dwelling practices of their very distant ancestors. Living things are almost always able to adapt to the Earth’s changes, if given plenty of time. Aspects of culture, though, will rise and fall, with the onset of those changes.

I pondered what this has meant, in a human context, just in my own lifetime. When I was four, a child could not get on a phone and call a beloved relative, without two or three unfamiliar female voices telling him to get off the phone. I used to wonder, even back then, how nice it would be it we could speak to family and friends on a phone that could be used in a car-or while walking along a sidewalk.

In moments of self-pity, in my early adolescence, I wondered what it would be like to live in a society where it was severely frowned-upon, or even illegal, to ridicule others. I quickly concluded that the scenario would be untenable- since nobody’s perfect, and not being held to account for things would end in the person falling victim to own ego.

The narrowness of my contacts, growing up in a community where people of colour lived on the periphery of town, or came to work from the two larger cities to our northeast and southwest, respectively, allowed subliminal and stereotypical views of other ethnicities to settle in my psyche. Still, I wondered from an early age as to how long it would take for people of colour to be able to live freely, wherever they wanted-with no harassment from those around them. I guess we’re still working on that one-though we’ve certainly come a long way. The house, where my mother and her siblings were raised, has been owned for several years by an African-American attorney, of distinguished bearing and considerable accomplishment. I think my maternal grandfather, who prided himself on his work, would have approved.

Culture, our collective, shared set of beliefs, practices and implements, may always change. To say it is subject to death, though, is rather presumptuous.

Expanding Home, Day 16: The Gatekeepers, The Bay and The Green Belt

2
Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 25, 2023, Manila- The clerk smiled wanly, as he told my friend that the matter she is seeking to resolve can only be tended through making an appointment, and that appointment can only be made over the phone-on a Tuesday or on a Thursday. This is the legacy of the “State Department streamlining” that was in vogue, until a few years ago. While I can understand the reasoning behind it, there remain those, like my friend, whose anomalous issues merit rather urgent consideration, and thus are discomfited by what they can reasonably view as just another roadblock.

I will fortunately be around until Tuesday, so if she misses making the call tomorrow, there is always Hallowe’en morning, before I have to Alley-oop back to Airplane Village. This is one of the tasks that was before me, when I first arrived at the South Luzon Baha’i Center, so it is important to keep on top of it, at leas to the point that she feels encouraged and empowered. (It has nothing to do with immigration, just so we’re clear.)

The gatekeepers at the Embassy do have their work cut out for them, with many people who are looking to immigrate to the U.S., or at least obtain short-term work visas. The Filipinos who I have encountered in the U. S. are amazing workers and have a gentleness about how they go about their work. They keep their cool and try to work through any bureaucratic nonsense that arises, whether it is governmental or corporate. I noticed that the very people assigned to enforce bureaucratic rules-including the clerks at the Embassy gate, have a sense of humour about the scheduling and other small details. This does tend to set the visitors at ease.

She took her copy of the reminder to call, tomorrow, and we walked down the steps, past the vendors, touts and beggars, to the seaside park that was renovated and upgraded, during the last Presidential administration. That president, I recall, was all about the Philippines-and its people, being respected by the rest of the world. The current state of Manila Bay was one of his pet projects, and was done well.

View of Manila Bayside Park (Dolomite Beach) , from the overpass to U.S. Embassy
Section of former sea wall, Dolomite Beach, Manila Bay

h

A human, for scale, at sea wall section, Dolomite Beach

After returning from the seaside, we switched gears, and with a second friend, we headed towards the Scottsdale of the Philippines, aka Makati. Here, we met a third friend, for an afternoon and evening of pretend shopping and art appreciation.

It’s not just WalMart that is full on Christmas.

We met K, at Cash and Carry Mall (shown above), then went to Greenbelt, also known as Makati Glorietta Mall. Here, our first stop was Ayala Museum, where an exhibit of abstract art by young people from around the Philippines is on view.

Here is an example:

Vision from the eyes of the future.
Avant garde art abounds at Glorietta.
There are five Green Belts in Makati Glorietta. This is a scene from # 5.

We were all drawn to a loud presentation, which turned out to be an interpretive dance roll-up to the opening of a photography exhibition, also by young Manilenos, curated by Maria Ylona.

Interpretive Dancers leading up to a photography exhibit’s opening

This opening was a class act, with a dignified set of coccktails, softails and delectable hors my d’oeuvres. This was own first time eating caviar-not bad at all. Here is an example of the photographs which won awards from Ms. Ylona.

Team work, Filipino-style
Cats earn their keep, at Makati’s malls. One does not see rats, anywhere.
Is there any doubt, as to who’s boss?
Green Belt #4’s “moat”
Three fashionistas

As it was, after this last photograph, we looked upon the crowd that was queued up to head to the suburbs, and took it upon ourselves to sit in the garden’s twilight. An hour of nibbling on Starbucks flatbreads and enjoying the cooling air was a far more reasonable way to wait out the masses than standing on a curb and breathing fumes, though there was some of that, later.

There is ever something interesting, when one’s hosts are three amigas.

Expanding Home, Day 8: The Eclipse’s Wake

2
Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

October 17, 2023, Daet, Camarines Norte- The officious, almost Parisienne, server saw me stirring the meat on my Kuril (Grill), using chopsticks. We have gotten into that habit, at Korean restaurants in the U.S. That would not stand, here at Golden Baboy. She marched over, took the pair of tongs out of the utensil can and said “Here, sir!”. I got with the program and things went well between the house and me after that.

Errands– I had two main tasks to complete, before embarking on my own march to the sea. Z’s Laundry was amenable to taking care of my small load, though it was under their customary minimum. Filipinos aren’t always fastidious. The next was to purchase a hat, as my sun hat is sitting-where else, in the back of Sportage, in San Diego. I also needed a pair of sunglasses, the last of which were left behind, God knows where. So, a stop at 101 Department Store was next on the list. I left my little tote bag with the “personal property guard” and went upstairs to find a nice little golf hat and a pair of wrap-around sunglasses. I was ready for the afternoon. Oh, and while I was at 101, there was a small high school parade, celebrating athletic excellence. An older man told me not to take any photos, but the kids shouted him down.

Daet’s teens on parade.

Snafu-Every ATM, it seems has its idiosyncrasies. In the 7-11 Store, near the Provincial Capitol, the cash dispenser is recessed, so thieves can’t reach over and grab the cash from an unsuspecting patron. There are fewer thieves around, since the Duterte days of Law and Order, but the system stays in place. I am used to the top dispensing ATMs, and so was initially under the impression that the machine just failed to give me the cash, and reported this to the clerk-who just smiled, came over to the ATM and got me to do a smaller transaction, showing me the recessed dispenser. She then said I should go to the BDO Bank and resolve the other matter. I walked over to the branch office of BDO and after about thirty minutes of electronic back-and-forth with my bank’s 24-hour service, it was established that BDO was not interested in taking “ghost funds” from my account. My bank agreed to drop the withdrawal and cancel an International Transaction fee. I mention this, in case anyone else ever finds self bamboozled by a perfectly honest attempt to counteract thievery.

Provincial Capitol- The buildings and grounds of the Capitol of Camarines Norte are majestic, in an understated way. The Spanish Colonial architecture is none the worse for the wear, after the Spanish-American War, Japanese occupation and countless typhoons. This place is definitely a point of pride for “Cam Norte” residents, especially for Daetenos.

As you can guess, Filipinos adore colour- the brighter and more varied, the better. I like seeing these “Love Community” signs, in each place I have visited in the Bicol region.
The stately Capitol of Camarines Norte Province. The slogan Alay sa Bayan refers to the recruitment of new civil servants. It means “Our hope for the country”, in Tagalog.
Alay sa Diyos is Tagalog for “Our hope of glory”.
Dr. Jose A. Rizal is considered by many as the Father of the Philippine Nation. He stressed to his fellow citizens that they were equal to, if not superior to, their Spanish overlords. He was executed by the Spanish rulers in 1896, for “the crime of rebellion”. Along with Lapulapu, who led the first resistance to Spanish rule, in the 1520s, Dr. Rizal is an unofficial national hero.

Walk to the Sea– After taking a rest,and because of the big lunch at Golden Baboy, it was time to get my steps in. Bagasbas Beach is Daet’s main tourist draw, though there were only a few locals and a honeymooning couple here, this afternoon. The four-kilometer walk had several appeals to my eye’s palate. Not the least of these was the serenity of the tropical rice paddies and river plains, where Philippine cattle, a genuine native breed, graze and socialize with the tagaks, or little herons.

Philippine cow grazing, with tagaks as company.
These two species are the best of friends.

Our Lady of Penafrancia College is the backdrop for a warning sign.

This area is in the right spot for feeling the fury of a seismic event.
The tide was coming in,as I stood, pants rolled up and feet bare, in the warm western Pacific. (Above and below)
Meet Si Ginoong Niyok (Mr. Coconut).
Cory Aquino Boulevard connects five towns along the coast of Camarines Norte.
Bagasbas Lighthouse, now a private resort. This is as close as I could get the structure, without having to book a night’s lodging.

With that, my work there was through, and I walked back to town, getting a latte at Big Brew, halfway back, and ignoring a mentally-ill man, who wanted me to buy a snack at the place where he was sitting, or feed him-couldn’t tell which. I did stop in town, for a small plate of tuna noodles, at Mamita’s.

It was a day of modest achievements and well-appreciated lessons.

Journey 3, Day 15: Greenhouse 2.0

4
Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal Values, Spiritual, Travel

September 14, 2023, Oley, PA- Chrysanthemums, ornamental peppers, geraniums, 99-cent succulents, a multitude of edible vegetables and pumpkins-and one more Poinsettia-based Christmas Show-these are both the swan song and the opening act, as the greenhouse prepares to go next level. http://glicksgreenhouse.com/

I have been visiting this establishment, on a yearly basis, since 2011. Seeing the growth, the renovation and expansion of Glick’s Greenhouse has been a true marvel. The flowers soothe, as well as excite. The edibles offer comfort and nutrition. The succulents teach survival. The team teaches commitment and mutual support.

The operation will, gradually, change hands, over the next year or so. There will be the same basic philosophy, and there will be a movement to the next level. 2.0 is something that the founders and their successors anticipate, with pride and with relish. It will be quite something to see, when I next come this way, in late May, 2024.

Here is how things look right now.

Chrysanthemum tables, Glick’s Greenhouse
Ornamental peppers
Water wheel
Varieties of Perennials

Journey 3, Day 7: Three Homages

2
Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 6, 2023, Mauston, WI- The bison herd was spread out, mostly standing around, with some lying peacefully about and a few rolling in the dust. This was the order of the morning, at Blue Mounds State Park, just north of Luverne, MN. I had come here partly to walk along the pinkish-blue rocks and partly to sit and watch the bison, who were safely behind a fence, with a three-mile range in which to graze, wallow and just be bison, without any “intrepid” ( I think of another word that ends in -pid) tourists trying to get selfies with the beasts.

Bison herd at Blue Mounds State Park, Luverne, MN (above and below)

There was only respect for these magnificent animals, from those of us who stopped to see them today. A woman who had come with a friend, and her little dog, sat in the car with the pet, while her friend went to observe the herd.

The rocks on the cliffs to the north of the bison pasture were equally magnificent- in an understated way.

Blue and pink ledges, at Blue Mounds.
Top of north Blue Mound
Rolling prairie, along Blue Mound Loop Trail

Like Pipestone to the north, Luverne relied greatly on locally quarried stone to build its public structures.

Rock County Courthouse, Luverne, MN
Rock County Veterans Memorial, with front of Courthouse in view

After a three-hour drive, the second homage of the day was on a more somber note: Laying a wreath at the gravesite of Mendota Heights Police Officer Scott Patrick, slain in the line of duty, on July 30, 2014, at a traffic stop in nearby West St. Paul. He had been a partner to an extended family member; thus, the added impetus to pay my respects.

Let all know the value of a life cut short. It is gratifying that his killer was caught and brought to justice, serving a life sentence for first degree murder.

Adjacent to Acacia Park Cemetery, where Officer Patrick was laid to rest, is Oheyaw ahi, “A Place Much Visited”, in the Dakota language. It is also known as Pilot Knob. This is a site sacred to the Dakota people, who occupied the area, when Europeans first came there. The hill was a regular gathering place, as the name implies. Sacred ceremonies were commonly observed at Oheyaw ahi. After a treaty was signed, in 1851, giving control of the area to the U.S. government and land to white settlers, 1300 Dakota people were confined to a fenced camp on the opposite bank of the Minnesota River. Many died there, during the winter of 1851-52, and were buried at Oheyaw ahi. Thus, to this day, the site is hallowed ground and sacred to the Dakota Nation. I walked quietly, on established trails, and offered prayers for those who suffered then, and those who may be suffering now.

The north gathering place, on Oheyaw ahi, near Mendota Heights, MN.

After the full day, it took a while, but I found my rest stop for the night, at Quality Inn, Mauston.

Journey 3, Day 6: Nebraska, With and Without Trees

2
Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving, Travel

September 5, 2023, Luverne, MN- The lady from somewhere in Florida stepped out into the open air observation deck, at Golden Spike Tower, North Platte, felt the bracing Great Plains wind and rushed back inside. When I came back in, myself, she remarked that it was “a nice two seconds of fresh air- Brrr!” My mind went back to the February, 1987, ride on the Chicago El, and a stoned goofball opening the door, which got stuck until a world-weary conductor came along, giving the rest of us a true dose of “bracing”. 67 F , 40 mph winds and all, just felt refreshing, this morning.

Golden Spike Tower

I like the Great Plains, finding more here to appreciate than many do. Then again, that may be said of anywhere I’ve been-and the Southwest does remain my Home Base of choice. Nebraska has its share of flat cornfields, which are themselves hugely important to the nation’s, and the world’s sustenance. It also has its share of forested land, including a National Forest, up near Chadron, in the northwest of the state. I did not get anywhere near there, today, but did pass a number of small forests, particularly along the Platte River, its forks and the many irrigation-focused reservoirs that dot its plain. The Platte, like its fellows to the west, is suffering. It is mostly sand bars, these days-hoping for rain.

The first part of the morning was spent in homage to all that the railroad industry has done for the good of humanity-even as we, with some degree of justification, fret about the after-effects of fossil fuel use. My take is that all this concern should propel us into a Green Economy, which it is doing-just not fast enough to suit some people. The change-over needs to be done carefully, though, lest those whose interests lie in the old energy format convince the masses of people to resist what is, in the long run, best for the planet and for all living things within its gravitational pull.

Corn fields abut the Bailey Yard, home to Golden Spike Tower. The Bailey is the largest Classification Rail Yard in the world, being 8 miles long and occupying 2,850 acres. Union Pacific trains, centered here, transport goods, and more than a few crafty travelers, to 23 states. As the name, Golden Spike, implies, it was on a Union Pacific track, in Promontory, Utah, where the spike that brought the country’s rail system to completion was driven into the ground. This tower, at this yard, underscores that feat.

Union Pacific’s leased cornfield, at Bailey Yard, North Platte (above and below)

There has been more care taken to let tired land lie fallow or be protected by cover crops, in the past five or six years. People are learning, from the excesses of the Monoculture Boom of the last two decades.

A field at rest, on the northwest side of Bailey Yard.

One more fact about Bailey Yard: In 1941,in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor, a young North Platte woman named Rae Wilson recalled that the grandmothers of her town had operated a canteen for servicemen, during World War I. She wanted to do the same in her time, and approached Bill Jeffers, the President of Union Pacific, and a North Platte native, for permission to use a vacant room in his company’s North Platte terminal. He gladly offered the space, free of charge, with the caveat that the community provide all that was needed-food, drink and furniture. He knew that North Platte, and the surrounding area, would rise to the occasion. That, the community did, in spades. Beginning with a company of Kansas National Guardsmen, on Christmas Eve, 1941, thousands of troops passing through North Platte were fed and shown a warm welcome by the community-with plenty of support from communities across Nebraska, northern Kansas and northeastern Colorado. Remember, this was before there many processed foods, before microwave ovens; everything was made from scratch. The effort continued until 1946. The passenger terminal was torn down in 1973, so Bailey Yard maintains a replica of the canteen and offers a video account of the efforts.

I continued on, after viewing the video, stopping for lunch in the town of Gothenburg, an hour east of North Platte. Here, at Deb’s Diner/Nana’s Country Kitchen, I struck up a conversation with two local gentlemen, over lunch. One of the men had been in Colorado Springs, as I had, this past weekend. He told of taking a cabin at a large facility on the northwest side of town, and of his hapless wife getting into bed-and being stung by a bee, that had been trapped between the sheets! Good thing she wasn’t allergic-and there was plenty of mud outside, as it rained almost incessantly, on that side of town. (Mud, for those too young to remember, was the farmer’s medicine for insect stings. I’ve used it quite a few times, though I am no farmer.)

The capital of the Cornhusker State, Lincoln, is a medium-sized city, about an hour west of Omaha, which is somewhat larger. I stopped by the state capitol, for a short circumambulation. The edifice is in the shape of a skyscraper, though its base has expanded, as state government has grown over the decades.

Nebraska State Capitol, Lincoln
Base of Nebraska State Capitol, spreading southward.
View of Nebraska State Capitol, from the east.
The capital city’s namesake.

The day was fading, though I had plenty of energy left, so I wended the way north, past Fremont, Winnebago, Sioux City and the southeastern sliver of South Dakota, to the small quarry town of Luverne. Tomorrow, I might hike a bit at Blue Earth State Park, and pay respects to the victims of the Mankato massacre, before heading to Mendota Heights, and laying a wreath at the grave of a police officer, who was the work partner of an extended family member, and who was killed in the line of duty, nine years ago. I became aware of his murder,whilst paying similar respects to George Floyd, in 2021. It is past time, but murder is murder-and Officer Scott Patrick deserves to be remembered for his service and his life, every bit as much as any other victim of our national intemperance.

What’s The Point?

2
Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

August 22, 2023- The robust cat sat in my carport, right by the hatchback, and looked at me, as if tho say: “Have you thought this through? Are you sure you want to go up to the South Rim?” It was raining lightly, which was one reason why the cat was sitting in that dry spot. I had, however, looked at the weather forecast for Grand Canyon, and saw PC (partly cloudy).

So, northward I went. Stopping at my Williams favourite, Brewed Awakenings, I fueled up with a Light Wrap and coffee, then headed up to the Park, an hour away from downtown Williams. The first hour or so of my shuttle bus ride/walk was quite pleasant. I took these shots of the Bright Angel Trail, from Trailview Point, just to the west of the Bright Angel.

Bright Angel Trail, seen from the west.
More of the Bright Angel Trail, from the west.
Approaching rain, from Trailview Point

I got back on the shuttle bus and headed to Hopi Point, from where I planned to walk back towards the JW Powell Memorial and Maricopa Point. I got in these shots at Hopi.

Hopi Point and the Colorado River below.
Approaching storm, from Hopi Point

I walked the short distance from Hopi Point to the Powell Memorial. It was then that lightning flashed in the east, a bus driver told me that we would all be evacuated from the Hermit Sector (the near west segment of the Rim Trail, which I had planned to explore in its entirety) and I found a spot to wait for an empty bus, as his was full. In about ten minutes, one arrived and took a bunch of us back to the transfer station. I went into Bright Angel Lodge and had a leisurely lunch, then returned to the transfer point and waited with about sixty other people, for the lightning danger to abate.

After about forty minutes, the storm was judged to have let up, and we went back towards Hermits Rest. I got off at Maricopa Point, walking about 200 yards, to these scenes.

Trailview Point, from Maricopa Point
Colorado River, from Maricopa Point
The defunct Orphan Mine (copper and uranium) was just below Maricopa Point. It is marked by this memorial.

As it was still not raining again, yet, I walked the .9 miles from Maricopa to Powell Memorial.

Plaque memorializing John Wesley Powell, first American navigator of the Colorado River, in the Grand Canyon.
View of canyon, from Powell Point

Once I got this shot off, the rain began to return, and we were evacuated a second time. I commiserated with the shuttle driver, as it must be quite frustrating to have to repeat an evacuation, only an hour after the first one was lifted. Needless to say, it was time to head for the car and towards home base.

There was a slight hitch in that, as well. The road back to Williams goes through Tusayan, and that little tourist village was flooded. The county sheriff had a road block up, which put those staying in Tusayan, Valle or Williams-or who were scheduled to fly out of Grand Canyon Airport, in a bit of a pickle. For me, it meant driving back by way of Cameron and Flagstaff, which I did. On the way to Cameron, I saw one thing we on the Hermit Sector missed: A huge pile of hail had remnants at roadside, from Mather Point, east to Desert View.

Let it not be said that this year’s monsoon was a total bust.

Four Farms, Four Approaches

4
Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Personal Values, Slow Food Prescott, Social, Striving

August 20, 2023- “This year has been a doozie.”, the young farmer deadpanned, as she and her husband welcomed our tour group, from Slow Food Prescott.

It certainly seems so, given the cold month of June, followed by a blistering July and first half of August. Each of the farms we visited today experienced the June frost and hail storm in a slightly different way, and each is operated differently, while all use environmentally safe practices.

Vang Farm- This one acre property, at the southern edge of Chino Valley, is in a gated community-one of the few agriculturally-oriented Home Owners’ Associations in our area. Chris and Elaine Vang have, as you might imagine, put every square foot of this property to good use-even the “fallow” section is used for storage. They produce grapes, figs, squash, cilantro, corn, tomatoes, carrots, apples and peaches. Chickens, Muscovy ducks and Mini-Nubian goats keep them company-and well-fed. A large dog, who looked like a Mastiff/ Rottweiler mix, was on hand, when we first arrived, to let us know that we were to wait for Chris and Elaine to come outside. Once we got started, the animals were uniformly happy to have company-as were their humans. The Vangs are full-on into composting, and showed us a small urn that had decaying substance inside. Fortunately, lunch was at least an hour away, after our second stop! Elaine has a Facebook group, called Let’s Grow Together! Any sincere gardener, farmer or aspirant can check out this group. The Vangs also have space for small outdoor weddings and have made the property very welcoming, with benches in various spots and an arbor, near the goat pen.

Beverly Farm- Our tour director, Molly Beverly and her husband, Gary, have a much larger property, on the northeast side of Chino. They’ve been here for nearly five decades and have been forces for sustainability, spearheading Slow Food Prescott (Molly) and Friends of the Verde River (Gary). I first met them at Gary’s computer repair shop, Argosy West, in the early 1990s. When I came up to Prescott, to live, in 2011, Molly’s initial efforts at a Slow Food chapter in Prescott were one of the first community service organizations to draw me in.

I’ve visited this farm several times, usually under the auspices of a Slow Food activity. Today, we saw three varieties of corn: A tall field corn from “the Midwest”, and two varieties from Peru-which were brought in as food corn, and produce nutty, very edible kernels. All are sure to be tasty. There are also figs, apples, peaches, grapes, blackberries, strawberries, tomatoes, foot-long beans (green beans) and potatoes.

After the tour, we enjoyed lunch, with fresh tomatoes, corn and a brick of fresh cheddar/Triscuits to add to our own brown bag items. Not on the menu- grasshoppers, though these were everywhere-at each farm, and have been the most avid “fans” of the farmers efforts. Gary and Molly are making use of some mechanization, in addition to heavy composting, a tack which suits a medium-sized, or larger, operation. They also have a concrete and black plastic lined pond, which has doubled as a swimming site. Their home, which has benefited from Gary’s considerable building skills, is a modified Spanish adobe edifice, with the courtyard around the periphery of the house, rather than the other way around.

Whipstone Farm- Shanti and Cory Rade both entered farming as adults, being drawn by their love of soil and of providing nutrition on an ever-larger scale. Whipstone started small, and has gradually grown to two properties, some four miles apart, in somewhat different areas of Paulden, a vast community eight miles north of Chino Valley. Where Chino sits in an area that was once a lake, Paulden is a series of mountain dales, with forest interspersed by short-grass prairie.

The Rades have become a major presence in the farm community-growing several varieties of flowers, which Shanti offers to selected shops around the Prescott area, as well as event venues There are a full range of fruits and vegetables on offer-green leafy vegetables (Kale, Lettuce, Spinach, Arugula) are plentiful,as are-to the extent the insect foragers allow- apples, plums, peaches, pears, grapes and strawberries. There is field corn produced here and a variety of herbs, especially basil, as well as lots of tomatoes and carrots Garlic is one of Whipstone’s signature crops, as is butternut squash.

Given Whipstone’s scale of operation, a fair amount of mechanization is needed, though the farm’s crew is of a size that allows economical hand-picking and minimal tilling. “Organic” spraying is used on a very limited scale. One of the Rades’ biggest concerns is the effect of any chemicals, even “safe” varieties, on the health of the crew members.

After a brief visit to the “honour system” Farmstand, we thanked Cory and Shanti, then headed to Schaffer Farm. Joseph and Shaunte’ have the honour of farming in one of the coldest and windiest spots in Paulden- and are doing a masterful job. Despite bearing the brunt of this “doozie” of a year, this handsome and diligent couple, and their five children, are producing tomatoes, salad greens (lettuce, arugula, spinach, kale, mizuma and basil), strawberries and blackberries, corn, several varieties of beans, wheat and zucchini. This is all done on 1/4 acre of land, with the rest as living space-for the seven Schaffers, for their peacocks and chickens, and for three kinds of ground-nesting bees, which make use of the short-grass prairie buffer that Joseph set aside between the farm fields and the BNSF rail tracks to the south of the property. The family has some fruit trees, with the most prominent being an apple tree hedge, serving as a windbreak. This is crucial, given that this area , just south of Feather Mountain, is one of the windiest sections of Paulden.

Joseph, Shaunte’ and (sometimes) their three oldest children are the crew, not using machinery, producing organically and by no-till, an at times limited, but always high quality variety of produce. Like each of their fellows, they have plant houses. Their two are of the cold frame variety, whereas those used at the other three farms are greenhouses. For an explanation of the similarities and differences between the two, see: https://www.garden-products.co.uk/news/growhouses-and-mini-greenhouses/cold-frame-vs-greenhouses/

This will not be my last visit to these four establishments-and on the next scheduled visit, (visits to working farms should always be scheduled well in advance), I will bring a notebook and channel my inner Least Heat Moon.