Category Archives: Hiking and Nature

Eastbound and Back, Day 13: Newfoundland Notes, Part I

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Family, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 11, 2024, Corner Brook-

I was able to add this photo, of sunrise on our approach to Channel-Port aux Basques, earlier today. Then, the WP editor kicked in, and announced that “You have no posts”. That was with regard to the app on my i-Phone. That app will remain unused, until I can get that nonsense straightened out. This is one example of why AI will never replace the human mind. AI is quirky, rigid, inflexible. Humans are quirky, too, and can be inflexible, but can be made to see reason. AI is an eternal toddler. Only an adult can guide it to a place of equanimity.

Anyway, upon getting off the ferry, Sportage and I headed to Alma’s Family Restaurant, in a shopping strip mall, east of downtown. A nice young lady, who appeared to be the owner’s daughter, took my order, in business-like but kind fashion. The breakfast was a bit bland, but filling.

Today was a picture postcard Blue Sky day. The storm that folks on Cape Breton warned about, yesterday, has not reached here, yet. So, I headed east, towards Corner Brook which, as you see above, was my destination, after the inadequate sleep I got on the ride over. There was an added concern: Son had a bout of dehydration and is in hospital. I am prepared to cut this trip short, return to Cape Breton and then make my way to Texas, but so far, Aram and Yunhee are not in need of my presence. I will, nonetheless, be in touch with them each day, until he is recovered. While I was sitting still and dealing with that, a young woman, who had been at the gas pumps at the same time as me, was dealing with what sounded like a serious interpersonal issue. She pulled her car behind mine, and stayed close to me, until she felt better enough to drive off. No words were exchanged between us, she just needed someone who felt trustworthy, for about twenty minutes.

After driving around the Stephenville and Gallants areas (Gallant being my Nana’s family name, that of the ancestors who came from France to the Maritimes, by way of Quebec.), I pulled into Corner Brook.

Lake George, east of Gallants.
North Brook, Gallants

A couple of aborted attempts at finding lodging-“We are waiting for our cleaning crew”; no one in the office ended with my taking a room at the majestic Glynmill Inn.

I also took in a couple of Corner Brook’s finer natural areas: The Bay of Islands is bordered by a heartfelt Rock Art Wall, where people have left mementos of what is in their hearts.

Parents’ worst nightmare.
Bay of Islands

There is also a trail, from Glynmill to downtown. Passing by a small pond, it leads to Corner Brook’s unique City Hall.

So, having managed to reach an understanding with AI, I present you, once again, with photos taken on my i-Phone. Hope all is well on your end.

Eastbound and Back, Day 9, Part 2: The Tides and Their Reversals

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 7, 2024, Shediac- The swirling waters reminded me of pictures, both painted and photographic, that I’ve seen of Skaggerak and Kattegat, between the North and Baltic Seas. The currents near the confluence of the Bay of Fundy and Saint John River are nowhere near as intense as the Scandinavian maelstroms, but they do appear, for all the world, like reversing waterfalls. The phenomenon here is the result of the interaction between the Bay and the River, and as you might guess, is most intense at high tide.

I stopped here, on the west side of Saint John, to take in this phenomenon which, along with Moncton’s Magnetic Hill, is one of New Brunswick’s signature geographic anomalies. Here are a few shots of the festivities, from both the base of the hill and from the window of the concessionaire’s dining room, which had just closed for the day.

Reversing Falls, Saint John, NB, from Wolastoq Park

Reversing Falls, from base of hill.

Reversing Falls, from concessionaire’s restaurant

Wolastoq Park, on the hill above the Falls, commemorates key figures in New Brunswick history, by means of tall wooden carved likenesses. Here are three such statues. First is Benedict Arnold, the skilled,discounted hero of Ticonderoga who became synonymous with treason in the emerging United States. He ended up being cast out of Canada, as well, ending his days in London.

Next is the more well-regarded Sir John Robertson, a philanthropist of the mid-Nineteenth Century, who fought for the well-being of the common person.

Then, there was Francoise-Marie Jacquelin, who fought far more powerful men to defend her husband’s economic bastion: Fort La Tour. Though she lost the fight, in the end, Francoise stands as a clarion caller to women and girls who seek to make their rightful mark in the world.

Finally, there is a depiction of the legend of Koluscap, the First Man of the Maliseet, as well as of my Penobscot ancestors, putting a selfish Beaver in his place, after Beaver’s dam deprived the Maliseet people of the water they needed to survive. Beaver lost his giant size, the story goes and is forever consigned to be a small animal.

Saint John was, thankfully, not at rush hour, so I headed east to the town where my Nana’s paternal forebears first arrived on North American soil. Shediac was a place of refuge for my great-great-great grandfathers, who had come here from Quebec, in the mid-Eighteenth Century, following the attempt by the English to deport French-speaking residents of that colony, after the fall of Montreal and of Quebec-Ville. So, as with Rouen and Montreal, I feel at home here.

Eastbound and Back, Day 9, Part 1: A St. Croix Morning

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 7, 2024, Shediac- I made it out of the motel, an hour ahead of time. Can’t have anyone thinking I am a motel room moocher. Actually, I am again dealing with a time change: Atlantic Daylight Time, which takes in New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and Labrador, as well as Bermuda and the eastern Caribbean, is one hour ahead of Eastern Daylight Time. So, getting things together was crucial for more than just avoiding embarrassment.

Crumbs is a nice little coffee shop and cafe, in the midst of downtown Calais. The place had intermittent business, while I was enjoying a chorizo skillet and coffee. That suited me fine, as I had some catching up to do on my journal. I felt the need to get out and walk afterward, and so, spotted a Riverwalk Trail across the street. Walking a brisk 2 mile round trip, along the flat trail, gave plenty of relief to muscles that had been feeling pent-up, from being in a car for much of five days, and largely sitting for two more. There would be more walking, once I got to Reversing Falls, in Saint John. Here, though, are some scenes of the St. Croix, and Calais.

Calais Free Public Library

The St. Croix River, with St. Stephen, NB across the way.

Motley retaining wall, along the River Walk

Looking backwards, towards the trailhead

Nexus Sculpture, a Schoodic Symposium piece, by Miles Chapin, and made of St. Croix Valley granite, graces the lawn in front of Calais Free Library. As Nexus means “connection”, it fits Calais, as a border town, perfectly.

The roads of Calais are being patched, resealed and re-paved, so I had to walk carefully about, in order to capture the Sarsaparilla Building, one of the extant late-Victorian Era factory buildings that still stand in Calais, as they do in several New England industrial towns. Calais’ stock in trade was wood, and wooden crafts. It also boasted Dr. Thomson-and sarsaparilla, a dietary tonic.

With that, I hopped back in Sportage, took my turn going through the Border Checkpoint, was let through with only a query as to why, who and how long- and was en route to Saint John and beyond.

NEXT: Wolastoq Park and Reversing Falls

The Road to (Mayer’s) Grapevine

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving

April 26, 2024- Tooling along the gravel-coated roads in Grapevine Canyon, about 45 minutes southeast of Prescott, Hiking Buddy and I found several large, fairly new houses and an old mining camp or two.

The actual goal of our quest-Grapevine Trail, was a bit east of the residential areas, so we backtracked and drove along a short, graded dirt road, just to the left of the graveled jobs. The walk today was, essentially, a scouting mission-first a .7-mile hike from the parking area to a green livestock gate, then about .5 of the .7 further mile to the actual trailhead that leads into the inner canyon. There will be time in June, maybe, or late October (as things stand now), for a further foray into the Grapevine of Mayer.

Here are some scenes that my i-Phone afforded me, after I headed out the door without my trusty Samsung digital.

The v-shaped ridges form a splendid backdrop to the jagged shale outcropping, that seem to have been dropped, willy-nilly, by the glaciers of the Mesolithic Period (26,000 years ago).

Once past the cattle gate, the rim of the inner canyon itself came into clearer focus.

Grapevine Creek will fill this bed, once the monsoons arrive, in July-September.

The sometimes jagged road would not be kind to Sportage, parked a mile or so back. It does make an agreeable hiking trail, in and of itself.

As we walked back to the car, this small group of outcroppings appealed to me, as a possible spur hike in a future visit.

The morning put yet another area of Unlimited Arizona on my radar screen. After nearly 44 years here, off and on, the Southwest never ceases to amaze.

Commonalities

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

April 22,2024- We are all part of an astonishing web of consciousness.

Bees are known to play with small wooden balls, pushing them around, until one of the bees falls. Octopuses recall certain kinds of fish, visually, rather than by the sound of their swish. Baby spiders scamper to catch up to their mother, as she walks along the floor, toward the bathroom cupboard. Corvids, from ravens to jays, recognize the faces of friends and foes alike, from day to shining day. A sea turtle recognizes its human handler’s voice, nibbling either lettuce or spinach, when given a choice. Androcles removed a thorn from the paw of the lion and the great cat purred, as his eyes were shining. A mother baboon tended the wounded baby meerkat grooming and feeding the little one, until its health was intact.

We all feel, all remember, and most can recognize themselves in a mirror, if even after some repetitions in front of the reflector. Instinct is common to us all, and so is industry; so is the use of tools, no matter how simple. None of us enjoys living in chaos, or in filth. Indeed no one is more fastidious about cleaning a place up than a scavenger. Hornets, if undisturbed, or not enticed by scent, will leave humans alone. Poisonous snakes, if not cornered or threatened, will not pursue a human, with the intent of injecting venom.

May Earth long enjoy the presence of its diverse creatures.

Headwaters

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Personal goals, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 21, 2024, Paulden, AZ- I drove about 5.3 miles past the Upper Verde Nature Preserve, rose quartz heart securely in a caddy, in the middle of the front seats. About 1/2 mile from Verde Ranch, I pulled over, as the sign said “GATE, No turnaround” Out here, “No” means “Don’t push the matter”. I wouldn’t have done that, anyway. I was raised to respect private property. Walking down to the spot where the barbed wire fence began, I backtracked to a spot where I could walk down an embankment, to an overlook. There, I scoped out the wash below, and seeing that it was dry, I thought ahead to the monsoons.

Where to bury the rose quartz heart? Its purpose is to bring a blessing from the Divine, upon a given area. The headwaters of the Upper Verde River are an area crucial for the populace of the Prescott area. We need guidance, as to proper conservation and sensible development. There are threats to both, most notably a proposed mine expansion, south of town.

Rose quartz hearts are among the symbols of positive energy, along with quartz crystals and precious gems. They may be buried or placed in a spot where they can reflect the sun’s rays. Either way, they are a source of healing energy, for the area in which they are placed. The Headwaters of the Upper Verde were the first area I chose, for placement of the small crystal.

View southwest, from Headwaters of Upper Verde area, looking towards St. Matthew’s Mountain.
A dry wash, in the Upper Verde watershed. I chose a space in front of the chaparral to the right, as the rose quartz heart’s resting place.
A rose quartz heart, now placed near the Headwaters of the Upper Verde River.

The two sandstone bricks mark the spot where the rose quartz heart is laid. (Hat and sunglasses stayed with me.)

With that, I said a short prayer and offered positive thoughts for the health of the watershed. The upcoming cross-continental journey will provide five other opportunities to lay a rose quartz heart, at various places in both this country and Canada. Quartz, to me is a good way to reflect positive energy.

Mislaid Plans

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving

April 15, 2024- The rock that lined the unpaved road was navigated very slowly, as I drove along, looking for a place called Jeronimo’s Cabin. It was not that of the great Apache warrior, but belonged to one Jeronimo Pena, a lumberjack who lived alone on Mingus Mountain, from the 1920s until his death, in 1957. He transported his cords of wood using his burros, having cut the wood using a crosscut saw-strictly low tech and living a simple life, preferring to forage for his food, and that of the burros.

It happened that I turned left, about ten yards too soon, following a track that was just shy of the parking area, from which I could have walked the trail that leads to the cabin. I left the hike for another time, until I could more completely research the matter (which I did tonight, upon returning home.) The rub came, when I found that a piece of shale had become embedded in the front right tire. When I managed to get the resulting flat to a shop, the puncture turned out to be irreparable. Shale can be a very tough adversary, even when one takes a road with slow diligence.

Jerome, with Haunted Hamburger and Flatiron Coffee House, was a silver lining to all this. I was also able to get a good deal on the two back tires, which needed replacing, prior to my upcoming cross-country journey. There is always a future pay-off for a short term setback, if one pays attention. I will find Jeronimo’s Cabin, sometime in June, or in late Fall, before it snows. Not having to go on the shale-flecked road again, will be a bonus.

Wind Alert

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Hiking and Nature, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 14, 2024- I got a report, from somewhere, that someone I met once, last Spring, had suffered the indignity of his hair catching fire. He is okay, just a bit unnerved and probably giving his scalp an aloe bath, for a day or two.


Although it was not due to the brisk wind that we have in Arizona, during the month of April and into early May, the incident underscored the danger that all of us keep in the back of our minds. I spent part of yesterday helping install smoke detectors, in a small town, about an hour southeast of here. The season of high winds and dry skies is upon us, so being fire wise is a huge undertaking. I will spend part of next Sunday raking pine needles, at a site where I have spent a good part of the month of June, for the past three years. The forest is always at risk, so it is not too soon to start preparing.

Walking downtown and over to a place where there was a concert on the patio, I found I had to hold my desert sun hat, that is probably one size too small, several times, as the gusts came and went. The grilled cheese and salad, and the acoustic guitarist, were worth the occasional gust, even on the patio. My food didn’t blow away, but someone’s beer glass was blown over, and the impromptu clean-up crew took care of business. That’s what people do for one another here. Both the hapless lady and her husband were given refills on the house.

I was born under the sign of fire, but preventing it from being destructive is as much, if not more than, my mission as using it carefully to cook and purify. Stay fire wise, wherever you may be.

Happy Places

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 6, 2024- As I drove into the parking lot of Mayer Fire Department’s central station, a day-glo sign on a house above the road proclaimed “This is My Happy Place”. A similar notice, “Welcome to Our Happy Place”, greets visitors to the Wildflower Bakery, on the edge of Prescott’s Pine Ridge Marketplace. This led me to once more reflect on my own happy places.

The list starts with Home Base I, the cozy one-bedroom apartment where I’ve lived for the past ten years, and by extension includes Prescott as a whole. Within its confines, the city offers other happy places: Raven Cafe, Peregrine Book Store, Yavapai College’s Sculpture Garden, Wild Iris Coffee House, County Seat Restaurant, Prescott College,Lazy G Brewhouse (I stick to their Non-alcoholic IPA), Lifeways Book Store, any one of four Mom and Pop pizzerias, which I visit sparingly, these days and any one of several Baha’i and other friends’ homes. In the periphery are Zeke’s Eatin’ Place, Highlands Nature Center, Thumb Butte, Watson Lake and the Granite Dells, Willow and Goldwater Lakes, Dharma Farm and Granite Mountain.

Once outside HB I, there are the Happy Places on the road-and over the ocean: Samesun Hostel and Ocean Beach; Copper Sands Motel and Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument; Macy’s European Coffee House and Bakery-and the San Francisco Peaks; Brewed Awakenings Coffee House and Grand Canyon’s South Rim; Jacob Lake Inn (coming back in June, my friends) and the North Rim; every last one of the First Nations Pueblos; any number of Orange County beach towns; Santa Fe, with The Pantry and Henry & The Fish; Taos; Cuba (NM) and Ghost Ranch; Manitou Springs; Monument Valley; Tucson’s Old Town; High Desert Bakery and Coronado National Monument.

There are the Baha’i House of Worship and Wilmette Village’s center; Mishawaka and the Crisenberry Family Farm, in nearby Goshen; all of Massachusetts’ North Shore-and downtown Boston; Boothbay Harbor, Green Acre Baha’i School- and the entire coast of Maine; Cape Breton Island; Newfoundland; Vancouver Island; Amarillo, with the Fun Zone and Palo Duro Canyon; Gram’s Place-and all of Tampa Bay; Tonopah and Beans & Brew; Carson City and the Tahoe Region; Portlandia; the Olympic Peninsula; Crossville and the Cumberland Plateau; Aiken and Full Moon Coffee House; Osceola Tiger and Big Cypress; Philly’s Old City, and the Museum of Art in Wood; the ‘burbs west of Philadelphia and Glick’s Greenhouse.

There are Vannes and Daily Gourmand, in Bretagne; Makati, and Manila’s Rizal Park; Daet’s Bagasbas Beach; Luxembourg’s Old City; Frankfurt-am-Main’s Dom; anywhere on Jeju-do; Busan’s Gold King Coffee House.

Happiness, though, is in the mind and heart. The people in the above-mentioned places are what make each of them special. A few would call themselves acquaintances, most would count me as a friend and one has my heart, as no other person save my late wife, Penny, had it. Each of them, and their surroundings, bring me solace. Their list will, no doubt, grow.

Each substitute teaching job that did at least one child or teen some good, each volunteer shift that produced some good, each errand of mercy to needful friends accomplished, each hike done safely and each trip that was not a waste of time is also a happy place.

I salute everyone who offers their home or business in like manner.

The Hermit Shares Space

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Hiking and Nature, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

March 29, 2024- The three-year-old girl wrapped her arm around a pole, while standing just above the stairs at the rear door of the shuttle bus. It was a crowded bus, and even with her watchful grandmother standing between her and the door, she was taking no chances.

Hermit’s Rest is the site of the westernmost of Mary Colter’s eight buildings that grace Grand Canyon’s South Rim. It is in an otherwise nondescript section of the Rim Trail, set away from the stunning overlooks that are signature to the canyon’s edge. Louis Boucher would have preferred it that way. He was a prospector for gold, and probably uranium, in the days before the national park was established. His trail, now called Hermit Trail, leads down to the Colorado River, some 8.7 miles one way. (If I were to hike to the river, it’d involve a camp out at Hermit Camp-not far from where Louis made his home.)

The gateway to the end of one line.
Mary Colter’s Beehive Oven, resembling a Hopi outdoor oven
South side of Hermit’s Rest store.

Neither man-made nor nondescript last long at the Canyon, though. A short walk through the trees reminds the visitor of why the trip was made, in the first place.

The Inner Basin, from Hermit’s Rest.

I began the visit at Hopi Point, where the last trip was cut short, owing to a flash flood in Tusayan, which necessitated most of the visitors having to go back to Grand Canyon Village and tend to their lodging. I was able to make the journey around the eastern route, to Cameron, and then back to Prescott, via Flagstaff. Not everyone was so fortunate, and many ended up spending the night in one of the lobbies of hotels within the park.

Today, there was wind, but no water, so all of us were able to go clear to Hermit’s Rest, or to one of the other viewpoints. I walked from Hopi Point to Mohave Point, taking in the following scene, among others.

The Colorado River has a demure presence, beyond The Battleship, from Hopi Point.
If you think that living on the South Rim is easy, this juniper pine begs to differ.
A view from The Abyss.
The Abyss also shows the effect of weathering, on the topmost layer of limestone.
Here is a view of Monument Creek, flowing into the Colorado River.
From Pima Point, a zoom lens affords a close-up of the Colorado River, without a long hike!

Finally, just when you think you’re done with the Canyon, here’s the next big thing:

The first question says it all.
If your answer is “Yes”, happy hiking-and camping!

I am not beyond that sort of adventure yet, but for today, it was time to head back, so onto the shuttle buses I went, including from the Village to the Visitors Center, which was the bus where the little girl and her family crowded on. We all got to go where we had planned, today. No rain, just wind.