Plan A, 2020

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January 3, 2020-

I spent several hours, with my daughter-in-law, waiting for Aram’s flight to arrive from Seattle.  We went to Phoenix in the evening, but not late enough to avoid  a stretch of sitting around at the Airport. I need to work on my downtime skills, especially when it involves a “captive audience.”

This is obliquely related to what lies ahead, during what is likely to be an extraordinary year.  Consultation needs to be consistently carried out, in matters great and small.  Towards that end, my best friend recently reminded me of the importance of a yearly plan-mindful that life can upend the best laid plans, at a moment’s notice, but attracting divine support for the plan, anyway.

So, here is what 2020 looks like, as of today.

Commitments and Givens:   Be mindful, yet stay creative. Work whenever possible,  from January-May and September-December.  Keep regular volunteer activities, during the above time frames.  Stay present, and communicate regularly, with all members of my Tribe, especially those closest.  Honour all life, including my own. Celebrate brother’s special birthday, as he sees fit. Celebrate my own special birthday.  Retire in December.

Journeys:  January– Valley of Fire State Park, east of Las Vegas;  February– Indio (Concert) and Colorado River Valley, from Parker to Yuma; April– San Diego and Orange County; June, July & August– North Rim of Grand Canyon, Carson City, Portland, Olympic Peninsula, Vancouver Island, Prince Rupert, Southeast Alaska, Trans-Canada Highway, Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal, Atlantic Canada, New England,  Philadelphia,eastern Midwest and Southeast, Florida (maybe even South FL and a bit of the Bahamas), across the South to Dallas and then back to Prescott;  October– Petrified Forest, Painted Desert and Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park.

Of course, this is what I am getting from my meditations, NOW.  Much is left to conditions on the ground, at the time things are about to happen.  In any event, this is what I get as my plan, at the start of the year.

The Golden Path

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January 1, 2020-

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My daughter-in-law and I wandered up the easier of two trails leading to the saddle overlooking the rocky summit of Thumb Butte, one of Prescott’s signature landmarks.  It was about the fifteenth time, I’ve been up there, and Yunhee’s first.  As we spotted four intrepid rock climbers and a dog, in the area shown above, I thought of all I’ve faced and overcome, in the past ten years, and how much there is still ahead.  I have not wanted to walk in the area of the the summit, not because of fear, but for concern it may be damaging to the ecosystem, as no regular trail goes beyond the saddle.  Evidently, the area is safe enough, even at this time of year-with its ice and snow.  So, I could very well be up there, in the near future.

The path ahead, in this new decade, could diverge in any one of a number of ways, and as with anyone, the choice is mine as to which I take.  Those closest to me here have lives and dreams of their own, some of which might involve me, and others in which I need not be included.  That comes with the territory of a late-sixty-something, and I am just glad to have them in my life.

The converse, of course, is also true.  I feel the pull of the road, to my greater tribe, and I feel a bond with one soul, above all, here in Prescott.  My little family is a key factor, too. They will live in the Dallas area.  There will be much that will become clearer, as the winter proceeds, fades and passes.  That I am happy with whatever road, on which my spirit guides take me, has been evident from the last decade.

These next five months will be fairly serene, or so I think now.  My focus will be on generating as much work as possible, whilst working around a few volunteer commitments and personal appointments.  Travel-wise, Valley of Fire State Park, east of Las Vegas, beckons in mid-January; I will take in a concert in Indio, CA, in late February and various outings around Arizona, some on the spur of the moment, will happen during Winter and Spring.

The Golden Path led up Thumb Butte, today, and could lead just about anywhere, over the year, and decade, ahead.  May your paths be fruitful, also.

And It Was….

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December 31, 2019-

It was a time of loss.

The decade took Penny, my wife of twenty-eight years and nine months, both her parents Norm and Ruth (“Bunny”), two of her aunts Averala and Helen (“Honey”), two of  her cousins, Tom and Jean, and a cousin-in-law, Richard.

It took my maternal uncles, Carl and James,  Carl’s two children-Keith and Carla, and our cousins Ronnie and Lorraine.

It did not spare my father’s side of the family, either, taking Uncle George, Aunt Adeline (“Sissy”) and her son Bob.

It brought several others to the Life Beyond, friends all:  Christie Serino, Drew Crotty, Larry Silipigni, Alan and Rick Belyea, from my hometown of Saugus, MA;  Alison Sipes, from Indiana; Mildred “Mildoo” Forney, who, along with her daughter, made my visits to Oley, PA an annual pleasure; my American Legion comrades Bob Wittmann, Dennis Young, John Mortimer, Sue Chambers, Al Tercero-among several;  a host of Baha’i  fellows- Ali and Violette Nakhjavani, Nancy Coker, John Cook, Firuz Khazemzadeh, Avid Navidi, Dick Sloman, Moses Nakai, Russ Garcia, Chester Kahn, Roy Dewa, Tom Smith, Keith John Manybeads.

 It was a time of change.

It saw me get out of town, leaving Phoenix, after ten years.  Prescott, once more, became Home Base.

It saw our son, Aram, follow in the footsteps of many of his forebears, on both sides of the family and enter the service of his country, serving in the United States Navy, for nine years.

It saw him enter into matrimony.  Having returned to Korea, the land of his birth, as part of his service, Aram met and married Yunhee, a superlative addition to our family.

It saw us honour two of my nieces, who preceded him down the aisle, also bringing spouses who add luster to the Boivin brood.

It was a time of growth.

It brought in fourteen new members of my Grandniece/nephew Club and some new additions to my Greater Tribe.

There were a couple of good years, working full time, at Prescott High School, and several others spent substitute teaching.

The decade brought me the joy of giving back- with the American Red Cross, Slow Food, school garden projects, and the Farmers’ Market, as well as American Legion Post 6 and the Baha’i community.  It has brought me many new friends, members of my Tribe, who consistently make this life a thing of beauty.

Then, there were those journeys- annually to see family, on the East Coast, in the South and in the Midwest, which is never “Flyover Country” to me; my first solo visit to Europe, partly on my father-in-law’s behalf and partly because  I wanted to connect with the lands of my ancestors;  I returned to Korea, to  fully embrace my son’s wedding and to recap our life in Jeju; Hawaii welcomed me, in advance of the Tiger Cruise from Honolulu to San Diego, as Aram & crew returned from a Pacific Rim deployment; I fulfilled some of the dreams I shared with Penny, and explored the Pacific Northwest, a bit of British Columbia; southeast Alaska and eastern Canada; California, Nevada, Texas and Colorado were constantly seeing my face-largely to spend time with far-flung members of my Tribe.  Shorter, but no less meaningful, jaunts around Arizona, Utah and New Mexico filled in the blanks.

Now, the sun has risen on a new decade, for much of the world and the year, which once loomed as a pinnacle in my life, has a remaining shelf life of nine hours, here in the Mountain Standard Time Zone.

This decade of joy, sorrow, gain, loss, advances and setbacks will soon give way to another, likely much more of each.  Happy 2020, one and all!

Everyone’s Big Hole

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December 23, 2019, Grand Canyon Village-

The Centenary of Grand Canyon National Park is drawing to a close.  So, naturally, the combination of  time to spare and my daughter-in-law’s visit led to us going up to the South Rim, this morning, and spending the day, walking along the paved Rim Trail, from Mather Point to Maricopa Point.

We had spent last night in our respective rooms, at the comfortable America’s Best Value, in Williams.  The high point of yesterday was a visit to the Scheinlen-Pena family, in Paulden (of whom, more tomorrow).  After being warmed by thick, nutritious soup and salad, we headed to Williams, so as to not spend time going back over the same route, this morning.

The Grand Canyon seemed to strike Yunhee in a way similar to the impression it first makes on others:  It’s almost incomprehensible in its size.  Of course, photos don’t do it justice (though I’ll post a few, anyway.)  The best thing to do here is to choose a few spots where the magnitude of the place can be somewhat encapsulated.

So, here are four such interludes:

Mather Point- An introduction to the Canyon, for many, as it is near the Visitors’ Center.  Yunhee opted out of the 22-minute intro video, in favour of direct contact with the view from the Rim.

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Yavapai Point:  Here is a view of a cave that would seem to be a rock climber’s dream and probably something on which I’d pass.

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Along the Rim Trail, just shy of this village:  There is a fairly new display, all along the Rim Trail, which shows stone that is from increasingly ancient layers of rock.  This Dox Sandstone dates from one billion, one hundred thirty million years ago.

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The El Tovar Hotel:  Grand Canyon Village, being home to some, and a welcoming host to countless others, does holidays up nicely!

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Kolb Brothers Studio:  Here is a place that’s both historical and full of artistry.  The brothers were photographers here, alternately in conflict and grudging cooperation with Fred Harvey’s Lookout Studio, from 1901-1976.  Today, both the Lookout Studio and Kolb Brothers Studio are gift shops and prime places from which to view the Canyon,

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as well as the Village:

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Near Hopi Point:  Crevices always interest me, though not to the extent that I’d try to straddle one.

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Near Maricopa Point:   The Canyon is evolving, and that means there will be collapses along its many walls, as well as continued uplift.

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Next year will bring a few more visits to Everyone’s Hole:  A jaunt from Maricopa Point to Hermit’s Rest, on the west side of South Rim, in late March and a hike on the Uncle Jim Trail, North Rim, on what would have been my late Uncle Jim’s 86th birthday, June 3.

Kaleidoscopes, Courtyards and Red Rocks

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December 17, 2019, Jerome-

Today being a day free of commitments in the Prescott area, I took my daughter-in-law, Yunhee, on an excursion to the fascinating Red Rock area, via Jerome.  We made this little town that clings to the east face of Mingus Mountain our first and last stop of the day.  Yunhee is not put off by winding roads and steep drop-offs, so we made good time, getting to the Kaleidoscope Store, in Nelly Bly’s old office, around 10:30.  This amazing little shop is actually the largest kaleidoscope shop in the world and sports at least two dozen kinds of the visual treats.  Yunhee was shown how to take a cell phone photograph, with a kaleidoscopic image as the backdrop.  I had a kaleidoscope as a child, so I picked up a small one for myself.  Then, I got one for a friend who celebrates a birthday, this month. I can see myself making another excursion up the mountain, just to spend a morning or afternoon trying out the many other kinds of image-shifting toys.

We took a straight shot to Sedona, afterward, and I first brought her to a courtyard, with the intent of taking lunch at Momo’s Kitchen, a Korean Food Truck.  Momo’s turns out to be closed on Tuesdays, so we headed over to  the stylish and avant-garde HP Cafe, which offers exquisite, reimagined Mexican fare.  After that great lunch, I brought Yunhee to  a viewpoint, where she was able to photograph Midgeley Bridge, a breathtaking sight over Oak Creek Canyon.

Then, it was off to Tlaquepaque, a replica of the large, charming market city of the Mexican state of Jalisco.  As it was not the weekend, we nearly had the place to ourselves.  Here are several photos of Tlaquepaque’s courtyards and bric-a-brac.

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Having had  a chance to digest lunch, we went to Synergy, a small shop in West Sedona, which specializes in healthful chocolate and digestive-enzyme beverages, as well as organic chocolate treats.  We both opted for Norwegian Wood, a chocolate mocha, maca, chaga and Surthrival pine pollen libation.  One of my friends from Prescott Farmers’ Market happened to be there, as well, so we had a fine conversation about keeping our dietary focus keen, balanced and organic, to the extent possible. Yes, Pegasus greets the visitor to Synergy!

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Red Rock State Park was on the hiking agenda.  The office people seemed to know that we were there for a walk outdoors, and said “Good Afternoon”, without looking up from their desks.  So hike, we did, on a loop up to the fenced-off  House of Apache Fires, a defunct resort, and back to the Visitors’ Center.

The views of Sedona’s many sandstone spectacles were well worth the jaunt.  Besides, when is a hike ever wasted?

 

Oak Creek runs through the middle of the park.

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The red sandstone formations in the distance, are part of the Schnebly Hill formation.

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Here is a view of the House of Apache Fires.

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This sandstone giant appears to be keeping tabs on everyone.

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Here is another view of the Schnebly Formation, taken from Eagle’s Nest Overlook.

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So, that was my daughter-in-law’s introduction to the Red Rock country.  We will be sure to return there, when Aram comes back from his final active duty, in the Puget Sound area, in early January.

For now, it’s a pleasant dinner at Haunted Hamburger, on the west side of Jerome, then back over Mingus Mountain we go.

 

Workaday Hollywood, and The Slog

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November 12, 2019, Indio-

Among my circle of family and friends, a half dozen or so live in and work around Hollywood, with a view towards making it in the film industry.  I have a sense that each of them will make their mark; some being steady and modest successes and others rising to considerable fame.  This is a harsh environment, both in terms of the level of competition and in the amount of stress that striving to entertain others produces.  Then, there is all that comes with living in Los Angeles- Knowing how to adapt to high volumes of  vehicular traffic and living among a lot of people with intense schedules and lifestyles.  The same could be said of New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Atlanta or Seattle; in fact, of any large city.   Los Angeles, though, has The Allure; a generally mild climate and a goodly number of laid-back people, scattered among the intense crowd.

Penny and I visited Hollywood, in the Spring of 1986, heading straight for the Walk of Fame, after having spent a day in Disneyland and the following evening at Knotts Berry Farm.  This was our only trip to LA.  All other California visits focused on San Diego, Santa Cruz and, once, Santa Barbara.  Since she’s been gone, I’ve been in the LA area a few times, but today was my first visit back to Hollywood.  This time, the Walk of Fame was not on the agenda.  My purpose was a visit with one of the above-mentioned aspirants in my circle, who is one of my son’s best friends, and the venue was a small eatery on Hollywood Boulevard:  Division 3.

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As you can see, Hollywood, as it exists for many people who live there, is rather densely built, with parking at a high premium.  All manner of people are out and about.  I initially parked about a half-mile away, near a Catholic school, well off the main drag.  When I.P. arrived, we walked up to my parking spot and he told me of better, closer spaces.  So, Elantra ended up about two blocks south of Hollywood and Bronson.

Back at Division 3, we enjoyed about 2 1/2 hours of conversation, catching up on all that transpired since Aram had last visited Phoenix, about four years ago.  As it happened, that was the length of time that the harried restaurant chef needed to fill our order.  Hollywood establishments frequently get slammed with large, spur-of-the-moment orders, especially at lunch time.  The fare was worth it, as neither of us happened to be in much of a rush.  One touching moment was a homeless man, seemingly a bit confused, asking me where Michael J. Fox was.  I told him Mr. Fox was off working for Parkinson’s research, which made him feel better.  IP and I got in our Hollywood, 2019 photos. (That’s my camera case, on my right hip, BTW.)

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The meet-up ended all too soon, and I was off on the last part of this LA adventure: The Slog.  Hollywood-to-Rossmore-to-Wilshire-to-Crenshaw-to- I-10 was pretty much a breeze.  LA to Palm Desert was far less so.  It was 3:15, when I merged onto my moving home, for the next four hours.  What is comforting about The Slog is that, as in Chicago and New York, people have worked it out. Public Enemy # One would be anyone who causes an accident; things are hard enough as it is.  We were family in anonymity,  keeping watch for those who were moving slower or faster than the majority.  No one, in my scrum, was injured or inconvenienced, and by 7:15, I was in Palm Desert,  stopping to visit Bill Tracey’s crew at the third branch of Bill’s Pizza.  It is a large, spacious and very welcoming edifice, off Highway 111.

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The Slog is hardly something in which I will be partaking, frequently.  It is an ungainly use of  energy, time and space, necessary, for the foreseeable future-but crying out for alternatives.  Surface roads help out some; yet mass transit and more regional urban villages need to be a greater part of the mix.

I am stopped for the night, at Western Sands Motel, in this easternmost edge of LA’s Metro Extension.  Tomorrow, I head back to Home Base and preparations for what may turn into an early winter-snow is part of the forecast, next week and the week after.

The Wilshire Finger Points East

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November 12, 2019, Santa Monica- 

There are any number of iconic streets across the country, and in the Los Angeles area, in particular.  U.S. Route 66 ends (or begins) here, a scant few blocks from where I stood just moments ago.  Several of the streets around this quadrant are enshrined in my childhood memory, albeit from TV ( Sunset Boulevard and Strip remain in the Long-Term Bank, thanks to Edd “Kookie” Byrnes, who was the king of smooth).  Route 66 itself was the province of George Maharis (“Buzz Murdock”, Kookie’s heir apparent).

It is Wilshire Boulevard, though, which has the most cachet- It starts here, overlooking the beach and hosts some of LA’s great museums. Wilshire leads the visitor to UCLA’s turnoff, to Hollywood and, eventually, to Koreatown.

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At its western terminus, St. Monica herself is the traffic icon, standing between Wilshire and the long drop down a steep cliff.

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I chose to walk, from the far end of Third Avenue’s Promenade, to this overlook.

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So, the true glory of Santa Monica, these days, lies in how the city is making itself pedestrian-friendly.  Third Street Promenade, like other urban pioneering efforts, is a well-planned and relaxing venue for people, of all walks of life, to re-center themselves. My first order of business, after checking out of Rest Haven, was to find breakfast.  That matter was resolved by Santa Monica’s branch of LA’s Le Pain Quotidien.  Mini-pancakes and cafe au lait sufficed, as there will be a lunch meet-up with a family friend later on, in Hollywood. LPQ is my kind of spot, though, with a long communal table that goes against the “keep away from my turf” ethic that is so prevalent in many American establishments.  Strangers here are truly “friends you haven’t met.”

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These are just a few of what LPQ offers.

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The long row does have its share of kitsch, in the form of dinosauria.  At least, it’s imaginative kitsch.

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Bella, another signature cafe, would have been my breakfast choice, had not LPQ stared me in the face, when I first left the parking garage.

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Walking towards the beach overlook, I was captivated by a small boy, who was re-arranging these chess pieces, under his mother’s watchful eyes.  I sat a few rows away and pondered his “strategy”.  For a four-year-old, the little guy was doing quite well.

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Such is life, in one of Los Angeles’ most eclectic satellite communities.  Now, it is time for me to head to yet another of those:  Hollywood.

Canalside Ruminations

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November 11, 2019, Venice, CA-

As I set out to walk alongside the canals of this down-to-earth beach community, I noted that its namesake, in Italy, is at serious risk of sinking into its swampland underpinnings.  California’s Venice has its own concerns:  Earthquakes and a large homeless population being two very different such points of focus.   This is a part of Los Angeles where it is not unusual for people to set up impromptu “shops” along South Venice Boulevard, across from the north entrance to the Canal Walking Path.  There are many who sleep where they can, around the village.

The canals themselves are lined by eclectic houses, which seem to have many students and artists, in residence.  The quirkiness of the district is as much of a draw as the serenity that radiates from an early morning, canalside.

I chose to walk mainly along Grand Canal, which is the western boundary of the District.  My route took in the bridges of Carroll, Linnie, Howland and Sherman Canals, at their juncture with Dell Street.

Here is a long view of Grand Canal.

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I turned left at Carroll Canal, looking to cross the bridge in the foreground.

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From the Dell Street Bridge, here is a view towards the Eastern Canal.

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A couple of Little Egrets were on hand.  Here is one, grooming herself, along the Grand Canal.

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There is plenty of kitsch here, as well, including a Pink Flamingo paddle boat.

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Linnie Canal is the next feeder to Grand Canal, going north to south.

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As is seen in a previous paragraph, Halloween has a lingering presence, in the Canal District.

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Howland Canal came next, on my southward jaunt.

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These peace-infusing homes are at the junction of Grand Canal and Howland.

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This Gingko Tree nearly overwhelms the towpath.

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An upside-down dinghy strikes a pensive mood.

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Various messages appear, along Grand Canal, between Howland and Sherman.

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Canalside gardens also tend to be polychromatic.

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Here is a view of Grand Canal, as it bends towards Sherman.

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As I crossed Sherman Canal Bridge, and was walking northward again, I caught this Little Egret on its way to “safer” perches.

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This mural, outside the Canal District, depicts some whimsical creatures out of Dr. Seuss’s lesser known tales.

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With a peaceful counterpoint to the noise and energy of Venice Beach, I felt ready to take a look at Santa Monica’s vibrant Third Street Promenade.

 

A Day of Small Parades

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November 11, 2019, Santa Monica-

For the first time in several years, I was not in Prescott for Veteran’s Day.  The three-day weekend coincided with key events that I have already described and with a long-standing visit to Orange County and Los Angeles.  I honour my fellow veterans and my own service, almost on a daily basis, in thought, word and deed.  Coming by other communities’ parades, if it came to that, would not be such a bad thing.

As it happened, a few veterans were at Gramma’s Country Kitchen, when I took a seat at the counter.  We quietly enjoyed our breakfasts, the regulars gathered in their group and I headed off, towards Hemet, Menifee and Lake Elsinore.  Traffic in the Riverside County suburbs was rather light, for a day of considerable commercial activity.

I chose the winding Ortega Highway as my route to the coast.  There were clusters of commuters, for whom I pulled over, as my first order of business was checking the water level of the reservoir for which the city of Lake Elsinore is named.  It looked to me that the lake is hurting, a bit, which is surprising, given the high water levels of reservoirs north of Los Angeles.

The views from the bluffs east of town were nonetheless impressive, though.

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There is a face, of sorts, chiseled into the limestone bluff, in the middle.

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Winding along Highway 74, as the Ortega is otherwise known, I came upon El Cariso, a wide spot in the road, which hosts the California Wildland Firefighters’ Memorial. It was initiated to honour the six firefighters killed in the Decker Fire, in 1959.  There is a trail from the memorial plaque to the actual site where the men died.   As I was due to meet a friend at Crystal Cove State Park, the trail was put off for another time.

Here are some scenes from the Memorial site.

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These scenes show the general area where the tragedy took place.

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My next stop, a bit north of Laguna Beach, was Crystal Cove, a state park which features beach cabins, in various states of disrepair-especially on the north side of the park.  My friend, J, who lives about an hour away, has visited the site several times.  I’ve been with her on four such visits, and am always interested in the progress, or lack thereof, in the renovation.

It appears, this time, that the work is being done in earnest.

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There were scattered birds looking for their meals, as the tide was out.  This little one appears to be a kind of sandpiper.

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Some children had compiled a cross between a cairn and a rock castle.  The stone on the front left reminded me, a bit, of Spirit Tower, in northeast Wyoming.

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With that, our table ringer vibrated and we went to lunch at Beachcomber’s.  The problems of the world, or at least our individual corners of it, were resolved over a fresh repast. I even was given a second bowl of tomato soup, whether by mistake or because I was wearing an American Legion t-shirt, is open to interpretation.  The meals were great, in any case, and I made dinner out of what was left, this evening.

On the way north  along the coast, from Crystal Cove, I stopped in Lomita, where I had stayed at a reasonable motel in the past.  I found it had become a residential motel, whose owner would not accommodate anyone staying one night, and that  it was a cash only operation.

I continued on, past the South Bay beach towns and Long Beach, opting to stay in Santa Monica, at Rest Haven Motel, as Venice and Santa Monica are on my itinerary for tomorrow.  Rest Haven’s  staff are very kind and accommodating. This day has been a full one, but also very affirming.

NEXT:  Canalside Reflections

Limekiln Trail

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October 21, 2019, Cottonwood-

Being a sucker for distance trails which can be hiked easily in segments, I’ve managed to complete the Prescott Circle and Black Canyon National Recreation Trails, over the past five years.  Limekiln Trail, which stretches from Deadhorse Ranch State Park, here in Cottonwood to Red Rock State Park, in Sedona is the latest undertaking.

It is a fifteen-miler, one way.  So, this morning, I headed out on a whim, and parked at the Middle Lagoon, of Deadhorse.  Up past the actual Lime Kiln, a defunct lime quarry, I bid a good day to a couple who were inspecting it from a distance and headed towards my goal of what I thought would be the 6.5 mile post. (I ended up at the 4.5 mark, before heading back,  due to sunset and park closure concerns, but no matter).

Here is a view of the kiln.

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The first 1/2 mile or so, is the only real climb, on this segment of the trail.  I spy a rock face, looking me over, from the rim of Rattlesnake Wash Ravine.

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This granite outcropping resembles a dinosaur rib cage.

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Heart-shaped objects would be abundant, today.

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Here are a couple of views, from the north side of Rattlesnake Wash Ravine.

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Yes, central Arizona has its fall foliage.  These ocotillo are putting on their mini-show.

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Yuccas also send their wishes skyward.

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Limekiln is a very well-marked trail, especially with other Forest Service trails, intersecting, towards the 2-mile mark.

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Around the 4.5 mile mark, Highway 89-A is visible in the distance, and long ago volcanic activity is evident.

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I took a rest break, snacking on beef jerky and baklava, whilst sitting next to this welcoming lichen.

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Igneous rocks, of course, also extend their welcome.

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Carefully-maintained cairns keep the visitor on the right path.

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Lastly, more ocotillos bade me farewell.

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The rest of Limekiln will be hiked in two segments, sometime during the next five weeks:  Mile 9, alongside Highway 89-A to the bench where the heart-shaped lichen is found (Mile 4.5) and Red Rock State Park (Mile 15) to Hwy 89-A.