Mother Miguel Mountain

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January 3, 2017, Chula Vista-   Whenever I look out the window, from my son’s apartment, the curious sight of Mount San Miguel, in the Otay Range, looms to the southeast. I took advantage of Aram’s being back to work, got up before dawn, and headed over to Mount San Miguel Park, on Chula Vista’s east side.  There was a short wait, of about twenty minutes, as the city park opens at 6 A.M., with decent light about 6:30.

My choice of trails led up Mother Miguel Mountain, to a military commemorative, called Rock House.  Two explanations are in order:  “Mother Miguel” is a mash-up of Madre Grande, which some early settlers from the eastern U.S. took to pronouncing “Mother Grundy”, and San Miguel, the name given to the area by earlier Spanish ranchers;  Rock House is the name given to a rock arrangement which houses two, rather tattered, flags-our national flag and the banner honouring Prisoners-of-War and those Missing-in-Action.  The latter is to be flown, or displayed at meetings of veterans’ service organizations, until the day comes when all such persons, or their identified remains, are honourably interred or cremated on U.S. soil.

My leisurely up and back lasted about three hours, over a round trip of 6.2 miles.  The photos, taken with my phone camera, are not as clear as those taken with the digital, but you will get the idea.20170103_0651391

Here is the trailhead for Mother Miguel, from the east end of Mt. San Miguel Park.20170103_0701591

Above, is a view of the destination, for which I used a series of 22 non-taxing switchbacks.

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Occasional limestone boulder piles provide a place to sit and contemplate, along the way.

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Others just dominate their area,  as does this castle-like outcropping.

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Once atop the modest-sized peak, Mexico looms, to the south, with the San Ysidro district of San Diego, in the foreground.

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Here is Rock House, with its resident banners.

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A second stone arrangement, intended as a circle for contemplation, is found just south of the Rock House.  Sweetwater Reservoir is seen in the distance.

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A third, circular, stone arrangement is a bit more to the south, still, and seems to invite a holistic view of the repatriation process.

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Off to the east is Mount San Miguel, whose owners SAY they don’t want hikers going to its summit, but do nothing to prevent those few intrepid people,usually military members doing personal training, who make the steep hike up its western slope.

Speaking of which, there were about six others on Mother Miguel Trail, while I was there.  One, a young lady, passed by, as I was taking in the rock arrangements, and went to the southernmost point on the summit.  After she had returned from her moments of solitude, and headed on down the mountain, I went to that point, and found a commemorative bench.

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There is, indeed, nothing that replaces a sense of home.  I hope that she felt comforted, and reassured, by this message.

The way down had me thinking, somehow, of just how vital the two youngest generations are, and will continue to be, to the well-being of our nation, and of our planet, as a host of problems, heretofore unfaced, will present themselves, over the next decade or so.  I guess the energy of the young runners and hikers, along with the industrial views of the area to the west and north of the park, set this thought in motion.  Like all previous such times of challenge, humanity will prevail, by working together.  There is no other choice.

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The rocks remain, and patiently look upon us.

 

Service

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December 19, 2016, Prescott- 

It was a calmer day, today.

We are now down to three-and-a-half days,

until time comes for a change of pace.

The look of surprise,

on the face of one of my supervisors,

when I said I had plans

other than working, gratis,

in the classroom,

over the Holidays,

was priceless.

There is more to life,

than one’s chosen daily routine.

There will be other things

on my plate,

from this coming Saturday,

until the second Sunday

of the new year.

Service is always front and center,

and it takes many forms.

 

Contentment

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December 13, 2016, Prescott-

I will be sending my cards, and a few gifts, out on Thursday evening or Friday.  It will be cutting things close, but this year, I have chosen responsibility over sentiment. Besides, I need to buy a new printer.  Toys for Tots, NAU (my alma mater) and the young people of Streetlight will also need to wait until then.

I am happy, overall, with how my life has panned out, this year.  I am in a position of very intense public service, have a solid circle of friends, am reasonably respected in my community of residence, and have been able to maintain my health and vitality.

My son is holding his own, and getting ready for a great leap of faith and fortune, early next year.  My family, mostly in Massachusetts and Florida, with several scattered in other parts of the country, has been mostly healthy, this year.  I lost two aunts and a cousin,thus far, in the course of 2016. I also saluted an elder who inspired me greatly, as he headed to God’s Eternal Army.

My other love, Nature, rewarded me with a complete hiking circle around this beautiful city, and I have come to the final three segments of an amazing trek through the Sonoran Desert:  Dec. 26-27, and January 6, will find me in the southern sector of Black Canyon National Recreation Trail.  The 19 men who perished while fighting a wildfire in Yarnell, on June 30, 2013, have a memorial place, in Granite Mountain Hotshots Memorial State Park.  I will visit that place, on December 29, making my way along the 7-mile round trip trail that brings the visitor to the place where this unspeakable tragedy unfolded.

This year has brought tension, annoyance and suffering to many, perhaps more than in some years, and less so, for others.  I am grateful for having had relatively good fortune, while being prepared, should challenges come my way, in 2017.  A stable job, re-connecting with some friends who have been off my radar for a few years, and good, if too brief, visits with family, give a good backdrop for whatever might lie ahead.

 

Five Still Standing

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December 7, 2016, Prescott-

Seventy-five years have passed.

It was the second attack by foreign military

on U.S. soil, in our nation’s history.

A third would follow, fifty-seven years later.

By then, many had forgotten

the bloody sacrifice,

which again jarred our sense

of innocence.

This was as it had been before.

Those who remembered the White House burning,

were few and far between,

when the bodies fell

like cord-wood, at Antietam and Shiloh.

The Great War was witnessed by a few old soldiers,

who had served under Grant and Lee.

When the planes hit the Towers,

Pearl Harbor was a footnote,

in the rush to the House of Gifts.

How swiftly we deny,

and then forget.

Seventy-five years have gone by

and five still stand,

in remembrance of

that day,

when they were young

and no longer innocent.

(The five are the remaining survivors of the attack on the USS Arizona, at Pearl Harbor, in 1941.)

 

Sixty-Six

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November 28, 2016, Prescott-Someone close to me says I am officially an old man.  Well, yes and no.  Consider today:  I went to work, told no one it was my day (though it’s posted in the office kitchen, which none of my co-workers ever enter) and had a normal work day, which means I put forth an effort.  I came home, took a 20-minute power nap.  Then, it was time to mark the occasion, so I went by a Christmas display, at Prescott Resort Hotel, had dinner at Texas Roadhouse and went to see the film “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them”, a Harry Potter prequel of sorts, with a fine ensemble cast and a great story line; definitely four-stars.

Age does not affect what I have ahead, over the next few months, either.  December, though, is as far as I have planned, concretely, and then only in terms of those events that have to be planned well in advance.  It’s more a matter of keeping the bulk of my focus on my work and on my Faith, than it is of slowing down.

I will have more to say about the weeks ahead, but now it’s time to keep my bedtime routine- 10:30 is late enough.

Foot Soldier

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November 19, 2016, Prescott-

All my life, I have looked towards inclusiveness and unity.

All my life, I have shunned the limelight, or any sort of elitism.

All my life, I have felt it best to not get too close to those in power,

whether the entity be large or small.

I am most comfortable in the background,

and as a result, have chosen to be one who shows up early

and leaves late.

That, ironically, brings two things:

The gratitude of those in power,

and the disdain of those who also might be striving.

This evening, I was given a modicum of recognition

for helping the logistics coordinator of this year’s Hope Fest,

into the wee hours of the morning.

This evening, I stood up, acknowledged the gratitude he expressed,

then faded back into the woodwork.

This evening, I also lost a friend,

for having been singled out, however momentarily.

I remain a foot soldier, though.

It’s a place where I feel secure and competent.

 

It Has Come To This

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November 11, 2016, Prescott-  I had an exemplary Veteran’s Day.  Marching with a small group of humanitarians, known as Yavapai County Angels, I helped to send the message that, as I wrote yesterday, conservatives are not monsters and reaching out to those in need is a universal calling.

At a lunch afterward, the vocal women in our group excoriated anyone whose politics were not in line with the most ultraconservative viewpoint.   Yet, in the next breath, they extolled the estimable Dr. Ben Carson- hardly a dead ringer for Attila the Hun.  This tells me that Tea Party members are as fearful and confused as their “opposite numbers”, who have spent the past few days protesting and causing moderate mayhem, in several cities, large and small, from Flagstaff, AZ and Portland, to Dublin and Tokyo.

In my humble view, Donald  J.Trump, Sr. has 180 days to establish that he has a keen sense of right and wrong, and the ability to rein in both his own impulses and those of the most vulgar among us.  Barack Obama had to coach his own Vice President to not use profanity in any situation where words could POSSIBLY be overheard, then or later, by impressionable children.  Mr. Trump’s position may be somewhat reversed- it may fall to the devout Michael Pence to coach his boss, in the finer points of the Lord’s English.

Then, there is policy- and law.  My table mates want to see the recently ousted sheriff of Maricopa County, Joe Arpaio, as Secretary of Homeland Security.  I do not, if only for the simple reason that the stress would likely kill the man- he is 84.  There are more cogent reasons why I would not be in favour of such an appointment- but why quibble?  Suffice it to say, wanting to see people in high office, just because those people are loud and agree with one’s fear-based thinking, is exactly what gets nations in dire trouble.  Those on the Left need to remember this, just as much as those on the Right.

I want to see a Million Woman March take place- not to stop the inauguration of Mr. Trump, but to inform it, nonviolently, civilly and clearly.  It has come to this:  We are an organic whole.  The right hand cannot slap, stab, pester, annoy or bullyrag the left hand- or vice versa.

Embrace

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October 22, 2016, Prescott-

A number of things happened today, far and wide.  Here, I was part of a large group who celebrated faith in God, and the healing that often results from commitment, both spiritual and emotional.

There were testimonies galore, at the fifth annual Hope Fest, a fine blend of vendor booths, children’s play sites and sound stages.  There were a number of self-help groups present, a puppet theatre,  well-trained young singers who belted out show and movie tunes and inspiring musicians and performers.

There was Todd, an accomplished country and Christian singer, a living testimony to Celebrate Recovery.  There were Mia and Bill, who have weathered one emotional storm after another, to stand before a thoroughly-supportive crowd and bask in our admiration.  There was Vanessa, an immensely-gifted young lady, who painted two portraits of Jesus the Christ, to the accompaniment of the two fine acts mentioned above.  She painted Him from images in her mind.  One was Christ in the Passion and the second was the Shroud of Turin.

As with last year, my larger role was to provide moral support and physical assistance to the sound crew at the Main Stage.  This work started when Todd thanked everyone for attending and the audience began to head home, at 8:20 PM.   We finished with everything at 12:30 A.M.  That is almost two hours less than we took last year.  We certainly had  more people helping, than last year.

So, I helped good friends accomplish a  major public event- and continue to honour both Spirit and Body, in becoming far more unified.

 

Castle in the Canyon

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October 16, 2016, Prescott Valley- After a Saturday morning of service, via the Red Cross, in the incomparable town of Sedona, a fine lunch and conversation with a friend who works near our service site, and a couple of social gatherings with Baha’i friends, my knees asked for a bit of consideration.  Unlike many my age, I cannot sit for too long, without getting up and giving my frame a good workout.

So this afternoon, as our biweekly Sunday lunch gathering was drawing to a close, I headed for the one peak in the Prescott area which I had not yet hiked:  Glassford Hill.  This extinct volcano had been State Trust Land, and largely restricted in use, until this past May.  A trail was completed, and was dedicated then, and is now a welcome addition to this grassland community’s recreational portfolio.

It is a 2.25 mile hike, each way, from the trailhead to the summit.  The difficulty level, to me, is moderate, with four short switchbacks of moderate incline, each connected by road-width, relatively level longer switchbacks.  It took about 1 1/2 hours to go up and back.

The centerpiece of the trail is a pair of basalt outcroppings, called The Castle in the Canyon, for their imposing appearance.

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Basalt formations, Summit Trail, Glassford Hill

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Basalt formation, Summit Trail, Glassford Hill

The “Castle” lies just shy of the one-mile point, of the trail.

The rest of the mountain is largely tall grass prairie.  Pronghorns and deer are seen quite often on the wider slopes, though none were visible when I was there. A few mountain lions are said to live on the peak, as well.

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Communications towers, northwest peak of Glassford Hill.

At the summit, the peak’s namesake, Colonel William Glassford, erected a heliograph terminal, by which he was able to communicate, via  Morse Code, with U.S. Army officers at Fort Union, NM.  The process is described on the placard below.

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Information placard, on summit of Glassford Hill

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Heliograph plate, summit of Glassford Hill

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Commemorative flag, honouring Colonel Glassford, summit of Glassford Hill

As far as we know,there was little use of this peak by the Apache or Yavapai peoples, who pre-dated the ranchers in this area.  The first name bestowed on the mountain was “Baldy Peak”, owing to its being a grassland with a  few bristlecone pine trees.

Its uniqueness among the mountains of Yavapai County, nevertheless, makes Glassford Hill a  trail worthy of a good afternoon’s workout.

Last Weekend, and This

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October 8, 2016, Chula Vista-  It was a weekend of talk about change, and talk about commitments.  On October 1, a Baha’i Unit Convention was held in Flagstaff, and a similar gathering took place the following day, at the Native American Baha’i Institute of Learning, in tiny Burntwater, AZ, about 10 miles north of Sanders, along Interstate 40.

At these gatherings, we choose a person to represent our communities at the U.S. National Convention, in the Chicago area, the following May.  This is an important function, yet what is more important is that we are addressing the spiritual condition of our communities.  It is not a bland spouting of platitudes, and there are sharp opinions voiced, during the consultation.  Yet what we are, regardless of opinions, is respectful of one another’s value.  There is no one, among the gathered friends, who is discounted or seen as lacking value.  The goal, for each of us, is to extend this valuing to the entire community, not just committed members of the Baha’i Faith.

After an intense week at work, in which these principles of unity were put to the test, and which by the grace of God, I largely maintained progress,  I headed out to my son’s place, in this southern suburb of America’s Hometown.   He’s a bit laid up, from a fracture  of one of his left foot’s metatarsals.  So, my entire function, these five days in California is to help with his needs.  My usual meanderings up the coast will need to wait until the week after Christmas.

I set out from Prescott, last night, after a particularly strenuous day and a lengthy, soothing dinner at the American Legion Post.  The route this time took me to a very restful night at an economical motel in Blythe, then a drive through the Colorado Desert, through Brawley, to El Centro and over the Laguna Mountains to the coast.

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A 20th Century cowboy, circa 1992, downtown Brawley, CA

The weekend is off to a fairly restful start, and we can tend to tasks related to Aram’s healing, on Monday and Tuesday.