The Road to 65, Mile 77: As Luck Does Have It

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on February 17, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Social, Travel

July 13, 2015- Panama City, FL Yes, I believe from now on, I will add location to my datelines. I am back on track, writing, after several days of focusing just on what’s in front of me. Today, I connected with two friends: One, an extended family member who’s in an exile, of sorts and the other, an online friend who’s been after me to come by this town, off and on, for the last three years.

So, here I am, in lovely northwest Florida. The area does seem more soul-connected than some other parts of the Sunshine State, but maybe that’s because its heritage, along with that of St. Augustine and the northeast, runs a bit deeper. I began my visit by lunching with said family member at Gary’s Oyster Shack, in Springfield, about five miles east of PC. My eponymous restaurant host was a taciturn sort, a bit reserved, but he and his kids put forth some great Low Country Boil, and a full range of other dishes. It’s great to be back dining by, and of, the sea.

After an hour’s conversation, I bid farewell and Godspeed to my friend, and leaded forth to downtown Panama City. Walking around the seemingly defunct Hawk’s Nest Bar and Grill, I spotted signs that the place was once a fabulous place at which to while away an afternoon, or an evening. The woods outside make for a fine picnic spot.

Murals most often tell a good story, as this one does.

Then, there is the front veranda and patio- one of the great appeals of the Coastal South.

Back along the waterfront, there is a crowded marina- reminder of fishing’s prominence here.

I walked along the coastal path, crossing a drawbridge- the oldest working such bridge in these parts.

Towards the end of the road, there were several lovely historical homes. Some are large, like the Howell/Hobbs House (1909).

Others were cottage-style, like the McKenzie/Pickens House (1918).

These homes are in grand proximity to some of the clearest ocean anywhere.

My host later explained to me that there are pools of fresh water, parallel to the ocean, and that alligators traverse between the two water supplies, feasting on the best of both.

I was in need of a rest, and of wifi, after this fine little outing, and so repaired to Willows British Tea House, just up Harrison Street, as it happens, from the Martin Theater, where I would observe a play practice in a day or so. The awning shows where Willows is located. There were some ladies inside, who did not wish to be photographed, so this is as close as I choose to show the lovely establishment. Here, I finally connected with my host, and arranged to meet her at the Martin. After a refreshing pot of orange tea and a piece of lemon cake, I headed for the theater.

Here is a scene from the Martin Theater’s lobby. It has a long exchequer of fine performances, and still serves as Panama City’s center for showing art cinema.

That evening, after a marvelous meal of gumbo and rice, Kelly, Fernando and I headed for Kaleidoscope Theater and watched a pleasing, though overlong, production of a play entitled “There’s A Burglar In My Bed”- a British-style farce, where several people got in one another’s way, mostly in an inadvertent manner. It’s all great fun.

The Road to 65, Mile 75: Florida’s Overlooked Story

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on February 13, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Travel

February 11, 2015, Tallahassee- Many people come to the Sunshine State for its modernities and for-sunshine. This time of year, there is plenty of sunshine, though Florida can’t entirely escape the cold that plagues the rest of the continent. There will be two cold snaps, before the region reverts to its signature mildness. When it’s like this, I focus on the inside scoop- What do a region’s historical treasures have to tell us about the area as it is today?

Most people are aware that Florida was ruled by the Spanish, for about 200 years. They are also aware that there are Indigenous people, called Seminoles, who had a wise and clever leader named Osceola and that these people fought three wars with the U.S. Government. Some will know that there are a different group of Indigenous people, called Miccosukee, who are descended from the Calusa and Mayaimi nations, who lived in South Florida, prior to the Spanish arrival.

Few know, however, that the Calusa, and the Apalachee of the northwest, were powerful and well-organized nations. The Apalachee chiefs recognized that the Spanish had strong medicine to fight the diseases against which Indigenous North Americans had no immunity. So, they invited the Spanish to teach their people about Christianity and to use European medicine to fight the new afflictions. They also wanted the Spanish to help defend them against British and Creek warriors, invading from the north. The British and Creeks won, though, and the Creeks became Seminoles, living around Lake Okeechobee.

The Calusa, though, became suspicious of the Spanish, when a 16th Century rendition of the Mariel Boatlift arrived on their shores, near today’s Fort Myers. The Taino people fled wholesale slaughter by the Spanish in Cuba and came, in hundreds of dugout canoes, to the land otaf the Calusa. The Calusa never really warmed to Europeans, as you might imagine.

These are a couple of Florida tidbits, revealed at the Florida Museum of Natural History, which I visited on Tuesday, at the Museum of Florida History, which I toured this afternoon- and Mission San Luis de Talimali, where I spent the morning and early afternoon. The latter two are both in Tallahassee, and are part of a renewed push by the state to focus on its rich heritage.

Here are several photos which will give you an idea of the marvels that await at Mission San Luis- a true Living History facility. It offers classes in metallurgy, tool-making, Spanish and Apalachee cooking, and foraging for plants in the moss-laden forest.

We start with the relatively new Visitor Center, which replaced the early 20th Century Messer House, now a costume-making center and office building, in 1983.

This is one of the depictions of a Crucified Christ that was presented to the Apalachee converts, by the Franciscan friars who established Mission San Luis.

Here is an outside view of the Mission Church. Note the roof thatch, which is the same material as covers the Council House of the Apalachee.

The inside is quite spare, with no semblance of ornate flooring. The floor is sand, as is the case in the friary, the kitchen and the Council House. Woven mats were used to keep the dust down, with varying degrees of success.

Like the Church, the Friary had a window in the attic, for heat release. The inside temperature reflected the seasons. Today, all the preserved mission buildings were cold inside.

Here is a view of the friars’ dining area. They took food from dishes on the table, and sat on the floor mats to eat.

This was the friary kitchen.

Cooking was done with this charcoal oven.

Spanish Moss covers many of the evergreens and laurels, throughout the Southeastern states.

Two journeyman blacksmiths were breakng down their shop for the day, but graciously answered my questions, as to the nature of their work at the Mission, which is primarily tool-making, as opposed to farriership. The Master Blacksmith does repair munitions, though.

This blacksmith shows two pot hooks, with grooved grips that allow the cooks to lift the pot off the stove or out of the cookfire, in the absence of hot pads. The heat does not conduct through the grooves.

This is Fort San Luis, where a garrison of Spanish and Apalachee troops were housed and trained.

The men slept on mats, atop platforms, in the style of the Apalachee people. It is said that the Apalachee figured fleas could not jump higher than five feet. This is quite debatable, as fleas have been observed in labs, jumping ten feet or more.

Note the points on the fence poles.

This alligator skull graces the northwest corner of the fort grounds.

A nature trail borders the southern edge of the Mission grounds.

This spring house was built by American planters, and abandoned in the 1930’s.

The house of the Deputy Governor houses His Excellency, his wife and at least five of their ten children, at any given time. The two adults slept in the tiny bed, the baby in a cradle and the older children on floor mats. A cook was on hand today, to explain the extensive use of herbs, both for cooking and to rid the house of odors. She also showed the carpentry area, where wooden spoons, as well as furniture, were produced. Ceramics of the Apalachee were rounded; those of the Spanish were flat.

Here is the Apalachee Council House. Like public buildings today, it was a regular gathering place for the community, and could hold as many as 2,000 people.

There was one entrance, warriors checked their weapons at the door, greeted the Chief, who sat on the highest platform, and sat either on lower platforms or on the floor.

Deer skins were used to cover the Chief’s and Elders’ platforms.

For contrast, here are the Florida State Capitol and Supreme Court buildings.

There is a lot about the early peoples of Florida that we have yet to decipher, and from which we could still learn.

The Road to 65, Mile 73: Light on The Water

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on February 10, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Travel

February 9, 2015, Daphne, AL to Lynn Haven, FL- The Gulf of Mexico region is largely about the interplay of water and earth. Man can only influence either, just so much. I looked at the weather report, while eating breakfast at Key West Inn, in Fairhope, just south of Mobile. There were scenes, straight from my childhood, of a New England that is overinundated with snow. It was not just my imagination that the white piles were the height of two grown men. Winter has returned, and as I regarded the bright sunshine outside, it occurred to me, “Plow it all into the sea; neutralize the acidity”.

The Gulf, at least for the moment, does not have to deal with Old Man Winter. It did face the onslaught of cold, in December. Now, though, the Gulf welcomes the refugees of the Big Chill. Several of my fellows in the breakfast room were from places like Wausau, WI (There is also a Wausau, FL), Lima, OH and Bangor, ME. Fairhope, founded on fervor and belief, is still a place of safe haven.

My first photos of the day were taken in nearby Daphne, as my initial concern was to connect with a friend on the Florida Panhandle, about three hours further east. Daphne has narrow roads, and in the style of the rural South, no streetside parking. This is not your tourist Antebellum-land. Daphne City Hall, though, is magnificent and has plenty of parking space.

This great laurel tree predates City Hall.

The town is named for the wife of its founder, who, in turn, proposed this statue of the Greek nymph, for whom she was named. The original Daphne, so closely associated with fountains, is true to form here.

I left Alabama behind, for several days, entering Florida just west of Pensacola. The Welcome Center is fully-stocked with all things Sunshine State, including palm trees.

Florida has some of the oldest European settlements in this country, but is also an integral part of Man’s looking heavenward. Pensacola is key player in aeronautics.

I had lunch at the local branch of Sonny’s, a regional chain of barbecue restaurants, with smoked turkey and slaw lovingly served by Brittany. Then, it was onward towards the Panama City area, with just a stop at a rest area near the turn-off to Destin, intervening. Florida’s Northwest is quite heavily-forested, and this grove evokes the turpentine “forests” I saw four years ago, near Live Oak.

The inlets of the Gulf are a major draw, once one gets about twenty miles below I-10. Lynn Haven, just north of Panama City, is a lovely water-based community on the island that includes PC. I spent about an hour or so at Porter Park, on the north side of Lynn Haven, enjoying the water scenes and a walking path, parallel to the Causeway connecting Panama City Island to the mainland.

Light and sparkle abound here.

Florida depends greatly on fishing, both recreational and commercial. With an eye towards the safety of marine life, as well as keeping eyesores to a minimum, the State and its cities provide these.

With darkness approaching, I abandoned, at least for the day, the thought of connecting with a friend who lives here and caught a glimpse of sunset, at The Cove, in Panama City.

It was time to head further east, in preparation for my main focus of the next few days- visiting my mother-in-law and my late wife’s cousin, near Leesburg. I ended the day at an Econolodge, just east of Tallahassee.

The Road to 65, Mile 59: Heaven Sent

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on January 28, 2015 in Hiking and Nature

January 26, 2015, Prescott- An asteroid, replete with its own tiny moon, zipped past us today. As our area was overcast, no one here would have been the wiser, had it not been for the media making several references. Apparently, Russia, Australia and the midmost Pacific Ocean were all spared, as was the rest of the planet. God knows, we need no more extinctions or disasters, given that there are plenty of both happening, almost on a daily basis.

The last five Northern White Rhinoceros are being prepped for DNA extractions, in hopes that a female Southern White Rhino might be a surrogate mother of an IVF Northern White Rhino baby, or two. In order for the population to be restored, however, one would imagine the process would have to be repeated at least four more times. I mention this, because we tend to think of life as being subject to human whim.

This is a peculiar narcissism. Life happened so long before any creature resembling us was more than a part of the Creative Force’s long-range plan. We have the power to undo so much, though, that I shudder at the tendency of some to look at profit as the sole determinant of who, or what, lives and dies. Mass extinction, though, would seem to require far more.

It could be that someday the planet will be visited by an orb large enough to bring about a “night” of three to six months. There will, no doubt, be human and animal survivors of such a dreadful occasion, just as there were animals which thrived, even after the asteroid which most likely precipitated the demise of the dinosaurs, as the fossil record revealed them to be.

Through it all, I hope that people will look upwards, at the noonday Sun and at the bright moon and stars of night, and remember that, as life was generated, seemingly from nothing, so many eons ago, any acts of ours which extinguish one living flame will be answered by a new torch of life.

The Road to 65, Mile 57: Back Among the Saddled, Again

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on January 25, 2015 in Hiking and Nature

January 24, 2015, Bumble Bee, AZ- I found, late this morning, that I had previously reached the trail head of Antelope Springs- Hidden Treasure segment of the Black Canyon National Recreation Trail, which I am determined to complete, in segments, during this calendar year. Gleefully, I headed out from the large water tank that marks Antelope Springs.

The first mile, or so, of the trail is easy, flat and distinguished only by what is probably the northwesternmost sahuaro in Arizona. All was quiet, too, which gave me the solitude I craved this noon, after a week of earnest service to a homeless veteran and a class of Special Needs students.

While the trail stayed sanguine, the rocks were the star attractions. Smooth quartz, mostly milky white, was dispersed along the way- with a couple fields of shattered shards. Other pieces were marbled with granite, or infused with iron.

A surprise came, around the first mile point, in the form of a large boulder of blue granite.

Then there were lots more broken bits of silica.

The trail began to get more rugged around the area where Hidden Treasure Mine was supposed to be. I found no indication of the mine, which is probably just as well.

I did find an ominous hooded figure, but it was merely a standing bit of granite.

In Government Canyon, where I took a brief rest, around Mile 4, I saw a marbled granite gem.

The trail kept on rising, then began to descend towards Bumble Bee and Bland Hill Road, around Mile 5.

Sahuaro are a bit more numerous in this area, and face the ravages of being approached by the occasional errant horse, or human. There were plenty of both along the trail today. It was a gorgeous day, and about two dozen horses, with both Western and English riders, happened along. I picked up a shoe that one of the animals had lost, and the group later gave it to me as a souvenir. About eight bicyclists also enjoyed the trail.

I took note of the next starting point, at mile 6.2, just a mile or so west of Bumble Bee, an old mining town that is now home to about two dozen intrepid families.

Off to the southeast, and up on a steep hill, I could see Sunset Point, the major highway rest area, on I-17, between Phoenix and the turnoff to Prescott.

Heading back to the water tank, I spotted twoformations, in different light.

This outcropping contained a marker for stockmen to keep their animals in single file, as if they needed any such cue, on this trail.

So it went, that I completed not one, but two, segments of this well-worn trail. Next segment will take me from Bumble Bee to Black Canyon City, sometime in late February.

The Road to 65, Mile 55: Challenges

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on January 23, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Personal goals, Social, Travel

January 22, 2015, Prescott- I got a call at 5:38 AM, got out of bed, fumbled with the phone, hit the wrong button, and ended up with no work today. It always goes the way it is supposed to go, though. While I won’t earn money from today’s activities, I did reassure a transient friend that he has allies in this community, got him where he needed to go, and spent some time with a friend in Prescott Valley, at a restaurant on the north side of the sprawling town. The place is called The Chalk Board. It’s a breakfast and lunch spot and has an inventive, well-prepared menu- like Soldi, here on the hilltop. Several of us will probably gather there on Saturday morning, for breakfast. I want to look for the trailhead where I left off of the Black Canyon Trail, last Spring, so a hearty breakfast, en route, will be a great start.

Slow days like this are a good time to look at challenges that lie ahead. So, between now and the end of May, I have these:

Work- The full-time job will happen, if it’s meant to, by the end of February. Otherwise, I will show up at every charter school in Prescott and Chino Valley, give them each a copy of my sub certificate, focus on building my Essential Oils business (which I’ll do, anyway) and sock money away.

Service- I am with the Red Cross as a volunteer, regardless. American Legion? My continuing there, past May, will depend on the political climate. Right now, it looks iffy. Prescott Family Shelter is on my volunteer radar screen, also, unless I get full-time work.

Recreation and Travel- Colorado, next weekend, is my most immediate focus- for a Winter Summit. Texas, the Gulf Coast and central Florida follow, from Feb. 6-17. My MIL has a birthday during that time, in Leesburg. Weekend hikes will be many, from mid-February until late May: Continuing down the Black Canyon, McDowell Mountains’ Pemberton Trail(Scottsdale), Spur Cross Ranch (Cave Creek),Kendrick Peak (west of Flagstaff), Tucson’s Sahuaro National Park-West Unit, a few more places in Sedona and the rest of Tonto Natural Bridge State Park’s trails. Then, there are the hikes I will no doubt take, on the spur of the moment.

Faith- Baha’i, like random acts of service, makes up the built-in cabinets and shelving of my Life House. My growth, and that of the community, will continue in tandem with all of the above.

These may seem like trifling challenges, and they are. Then again, I’m autistic. Everything is a challenge.

The Road to 65, Mile 43: Wild

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on January 12, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Personal goals

January 10, 2015, Prescott- It has been, and remains, a dream of mine to hike at least one of the great north-south trails that grace our country. Before the need to replenish my coffers arose, I had a plan to traverse the Appalachian Trail and Pacific Crest Trail in back-to-back years, 2018-19. For various reasons, this particular pair of endeavours will wait until I am in my seventies- and it’ll happen, along with some other treks, during that decade, unless the Universe decrees otherwise. Since this change of plans occurred to me in a dream-like state though, several weeks ago, I think it’ll hold.

Last night, I watched “Wild”, with Reese Witherspoon as the wild child who was tamed by the PCT. As many of my travels have been inspired by visions of my late wife, so was Cheryl Strayed’s time on the Pacific Crest Trail spurred by thoughts of her mother, who had died of cancer, a few years before. I could identify with her disquiet, on a number of levels. Though I never had a serious hard-drug problem, and my alcohol abuse was history well before our marriage, the serious lapses in judgement and difficulty with forming attachments that Cheryl displayed had parallels in my own life, and as recently as 2013. The PCT tamed her inner beast (shadowed as it was by the fox in the film). Extensive journeys around North America in 2011-13 and the northwest of Europe, as well as across the eastern Pacific, last year, brought my poisonous remnants to the surface and have established more clarity of vision.

Cheryl Strayed found stability afterward, in marriage and motherhood. My own renewed stability is forming, not necessarily with another intimate relationship, but with the distinct possibility of finally taking charge of, and seeing through, a service-oriented project that will provide a modest and adequate income. Add to that the extra security offered by wellness advocacy, and the six years left of this decade will lend more credence to “Age is nothing but a number”.

The Road to 65, Mile 37: Visions of Mars

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on January 5, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Travel

January 4, 2015, Valley of Fire, NV- I checked my social media messages this morning, and found a post which compared the temperature on Mars with that in Minnesota. Mars was reportedly warmer today.

I was reminded of our nearest planetary neighbour, once on the trails at Valley of Fire State Park, between Moapa and Overton, NV, northeast of Las Vegas. As you will see further on in this post, red soil abounds there.

I started the day with a hearty breakfast at Comfort Inn, joined by a family who were driving to Colorado, from San Francisco. They will have clear weather for their return, which is gratifying. After tooling around Vegas,unsuccessfully, in search of a Wells-Fargo branch, I just bit the bullet, paid the ATM fees and headed up I-15 to Moapa and the park.

I shortly came upon the reason for the park’s name.

The Beehives are well-named, in more ways than one.

Balancing Rock, near the Visitor Center, reminded me of a similar formation at Garden of the Gods, in Colorado Springs.

The otherworldiness of the Southwest is in full voice, in Mouse’s Tank, so-named for an outlaw who hid out in this canyon. The westernmost Ancient Puebloans also settled here, in the 800’s. The Tank itself was empty today. Life in the Great Basin is always a balancing act. I came next upon Rainbow Vista, so named for the striated Aztec sandstone found there. The trail goes through a narrow, rough wash, to end with a gaze upon Fire Canyon.

The apex of the journey into Valley of Fire was at White Domes, a mass of limestone and gypsum. Several distance hikers were in this area today. Someday, I will be back and share their experience. On the way back towards the Visitor Center, I caught a few glimpses of the blend of colours.

Seven Sisters, a sandstone formation just south of the Visitor Center, is a popular picnic spot.

Near the East Entrance to the park, a memorial is set up to honour Sergeant John Clark, who perished here in 1915, while en route from Bakersfield to Salt Lake City. Lake Mead National Recreation Area abuts Valley of Fire, to the southeast. Its terrain has less of the Aztec sandstone and more limestone and gypsum. The lake may be down, but it’s far from out. The scenery is still inspiring, especially around sunset. I enjoyed several stops along the North Shore.

Sunset hit its true magnificence as I came upon White Hills, AZ, and Rosie’s Den Cafe.

Rosie’s is another amazing serendipitous find. A homey, relaxing spot, with well-prepared food and engaging waitresses, it’s perfectly positioned between Hoover Dam and Kingman. A plus is that one of the waitresses is also a baker. Tracey’s no-sugar added cherry pie hits the sweet spot, of the palate, that is.

One caution, being in a rural community:

JK. White Hills has a competent volunteer fire service. The stuff of holidays was still well in evidence.

Rosie’s is definitely cracklin’.

The Road to 65, Mile 35: The New Adults in the Room.

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on January 4, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Social

January 2, 2015, Mesa- I keep looking at Millennials, my son’s generation, and seeing, on the one hand, my extended brood of children. On the other hand, I’m in awe of how they are handling, as a generation, just about every task that has landed in their laps.

I went down to Mesa, Arizona’s third largest city, to spend the afternoon with my son, as he is winding up his holiday leave- spent with friends from his high school days. We had a delectable lunch at Bavarian Pointe, a German eatery, as you might have deduced, going for a full meal-complete with soup, hot entrees and dessert crepes. The waitress showered us with attention and I will recommend the place on Yelp!, which I don’t always do.

Our planned hike, at Usery Mountain Regional Park, in Mesa’s northeast corner, necessitated heading back to his friends’ house, and getting mother and daughter. Daughter is 3 years old, so I suggested a hike in the foothills, which the little girl said she could “do easy”. Well, she did it easily- uphill, downhill, 8/10 of a mile. My son, his high school classmate and her daughter are shown below.

Here are some scenes of the Merkle Hills, which we hiked.

We started off, trying to decipher the rather rudimentary map given us at the entry station. Something told me to suggest parking ahead of a roundabout, midway in the park. We then walked about 1/2 mile further east, and found Merkle Hills trailhead. The above trail satisfied one and all, and just as Son was preparing himself for a lengthy walk back to the vehicle- Friend looked down and exclaimed, “The Jeep!” There it was, right at the foot of the exit trail, whose sign was hidden behind some lush Sonoran Desert growth.

The Universe does take care of us, in some rather unforeseen ways. I guess that’s why it’s the Universe, and we are peas in a pod. When we returned to the friends’ house, Male Friend was there, waiting for his love and his soon-to-be stepchild. His game plan was to prepare chili dogs for the lot of us. So, while we waited, I was offered the use of their movie collection- looking in the “family section”, I chose “Charlotte’s Web”, the movie with Dakota Fanning, and Julia Roberts, as Charlotte, and a very happy three-year-old was occupied nicely until dinner. I was greeted warmly by the family’s very own lap cat, “William”. He spent several joyous minutes, sitting on my lap, snuggling and purring.

The little girl had to put on her coat, before going somewhere with her mother, and asked me to help her zip the coat. After a bit of tussling with the plastic fastener- mission accomplished! Getting back to my comment at the beginning of this post, it is ever-gratifying to see the rising generation take on, successfully, the challenges of parenthood, leadership and the various crap that adults have to handle, put their own stamp on all of it- often without a personal vehicle, and make it all happen nicely. Millennials have their share of problems, as does every generation, but we’re in good hands, folks, as I’ve said on this site a few times.

The Road to 65, Mile 33, Part II: The Gate Stayed Open

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on January 2, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Social, Travel

December 31, 2014, Prescott- When I returned to North America, on 6/29/14, I had the pleasure of a long and varied conversation with a fascinating young lady from Montreal, who is a baker by trade. The flight back was thus energizing, rather than draining.

July- I spent the first week of July visiting family in the Boston area. My brother, SIL and I took in a Red Sox game on July 2, which was as marvelous an experience as the team itself was awful, in its play. Fenway Park and the surrounding area are old enough to be somewhat a cross, to me, between old Europe and the modern U.S. Our fireworks, two days later, were rained out, but some local youths tried anyway- so we had some sky colours. Going back to Phoenix was an experience. I ended up staying overnight in Charlotte, as the plane out of Boston was delayed for six hours, due to some problem in Miami, of all places. At least this way, I didn’t get to Phoenix at 1:30 A.M., so the Universe was looking out for me, in an oblique way.

August- The interment of my father-in-law’s remains, in Arlington National Cemetery, brought me back to the East Coast, at the beginning of the month, for four days. This was the least a grateful nation could do for him. I also visited several war-related places on the National Mall, and the 9/11 Memorial west of the Pentagon.

In a rustic camp, west of Prescott, a group of us formed a well-running team, serving Slow Food Prescott’s 50-Mile Dinner,consisting entirely of ingredients from within a fifty-mile radius of our town.

September- In the middle of the month, I drove from Prescott to Salt Lake City, for an annual convention. Staying in a cheap, Baha’i-owned motel and scrimping where I could, got me through this time, and still I got a lot out of the convention itself. Driving all the way back home, in one fell swoop, though, is probably something I would prefer to avoid in the future.

October- There is very little I won’t do for my son, the only responsibility I really still have, outside of self-care. When he called, in July, and said I was on the list to take part in the ship’s return cruise, from Honolulu to San Diego, I got the paper work done, made flight arrangements to Honolulu, and enjoyed 1 1/2 days in that exquisite city. Waikiki, Iolani Palace and Pearl Harbor were each every bit as fascinating as others had said. The cruise itself was 6 1/2 days, and I learned much about day-to-day shipboard life and about the many hues of blue and aquamarine that are visible from the deck. After a short few days in San Diego and Crystal Cove State Beach, I drove home, exhausted and just wanting to be in Prescott again.

November- The month was quiet, until Thanksgiving weekend. I went back to San Diego, enjoyed the holiday with Aram and a friend, in Julian, and celebrated my 64th, in low-key fashion, visiting La Jolla and enjoying a Korean lunch.

December- Western New Mexico was where Penny and I first met, 34 years ago, in the Pueblo of Zuni. I had a salubrious visit to some of our old favourite spots: El Morro National Monument, with ancient Puebloan ruins and petroglyphs/inscriptions of several time periods and Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, with its myriad sandhill cranes and raptors. The town of Truth or Consequences, named for a 1940’s and ’50’s radio/TV show, was a lovely revelation. Its Old Town, centered around the original hot springs resorts, kept me fascinated to the point where my original plan, of visiting the Gila Cliff Dwellings, was put off until another date. Paying respects to the Apache chief Cochise was accomplished, as was Christmas Eve and Day with some friends who had moved to the Tucson area, from Oklahoma. The 30th annual Grand Canyon Baha’i Conference was a fitting end to this most filling of years. We got eight inches of snow, on New Year’s Eve. I rang in the new, by watching Prescott’s midnight fireworks, from my front porch.