I chose Log Cabin Village as my foray into Fort Worth’s vast Cultural District.  Sundance Square, the Zoo and other fine features of the Civilized Cowtown will wait for another time. Many Fort Worthers, including the marvelous family I met here, had not ever heard of LCV until recently.  It turns out that the Winters’ younger daughter heard about it first, and brought her parents there, this beautiful Sunday afternoon. Now, to spill on Fort Worth’s Best-kept Secret.  Dog Trots are a Texas tradition, or were, in the 19th and early 20th Centuries.  Sam Houston built one.  Lyndon B. Johnson grew up in one.

Now, let’s see what the photo record shows.

Here’s the Trinity River, which made Fort Worth, Dallas and all their intervening suburbs, possible.

The Log Cabin Village’s main building is the only two-story structure in the park.

Next is the Seela Cabin.

Here a couple of shots of the inside of Seela Cabin.  Note how well “dolly” is treated.

Also, note how the building is insulated.  King Cotton had many uses.

This is a Dog Trot House.  It has two rooms, separated by a covered area, where dogs (and cats) could come in for the night, or out of the rain.

Next, we moved on to the School House, where someone ( not me), who will not be identified here, tried on the dunce cap.

If a kid messed up, the dunce cap was waiting.

No village is complete without a garden, and a mill house.

There you have it- at least a portion.  I will be putting together complete albums, once I get home.  As a bonus to this visit, I gladly recommend http://michellewinters.com, for those women looking to treat themselves to fine fashion.  Mrs. Winters was dressed to the Nines, even while walking the paths of Old Texas.

This little town, about thirty miles south of Fort Worth, housed me on Saturday night.  There never needs to be all that much going on in my life at night, unless I am in the middle of a happenin’ place.  As it was, I needed some p & q, to get my thoughts organized, so Traveler’s Inn, another Mom & Pop Indian place, was perfect. I had considered Liberty Hotel, Cleburne’s centerpiece, but that’ll be for another visit, where my itinerary is not as broad.  I may be passing through next August or September  (2013), though, coming back from the northeast-so that would work. On Sunday morning, I had breakfast at another Cleburne institution, Chaf-Inn (Pronounced “chayf”).  In keeping with my diner-oriented spirit, I sat at the counter, though Chaf-Inn is a few cuts above a diner.

I later had the pleasure of meeting a friend from another blog site.  This is J.

I had a full afternoon ahead of me in Fort Worth- downtown, the North Side and Log Cabin Village, so I spent just another small bit of time looking around lovely little Cleburne.  I never did find the “Indian Village” J was talking about, but maybe next time out.

Here is the Johnson County Courthouse.

When cattlemen built a public structure, in the days of the Big Drives, it was meant to last a while.

In Part 2,  we head downtown and to the North Side of Fort Worth.

I don’t want to overlook the little side trip that brought me 4,000 + feet up into the Kansas high country on Tuesday afternoon.  I wouldn’t recommend hiking up there, as it would be something of a nuisance to the working farmers and combine drivers who are the region’s mainstay.  There is something enticing about Mt. Sunflower, though.

So, my trusty Kia took me twelve miles up the dirt roads from Goodland and then back out, just west of Sharon Springs.  In the middle of it all, five hard working families toil, day in and day out, towards getting the rest of us at least some of our daily bread.

Here is what the area on and around Mt. Sunflower looks like.

These are actually a sign that one has gone too far west.  Back track 1/4 mile and go through the gate, when you see the pole off to the north.  Below is another indicator to turn around.

This is the spot you’re looking for.

Mountaineering in Kansas is fascinating.  Why, on a clear day, you can see Colorado!

I will need to struggle with Windows tomorrow, over who has the right to post what photos.  They claim I can’t legally post photos downloaded from a Yahoo! e-mail, onto a social network.  Sounds like BS.  So, until that gets straightened out, I have no photos from Marshall Mesa or El Dorado State Park.  Maybe @BoulderChristina can post them.  They are her photos, after all.  It was a gorgeous afternoon, regardless.

Tuesday, I headed out to eastern Colorado’s plains.  Just outside Denver, there are five small towns which have organized themselves as the Plains High Five.  The group seeks to preserve the area’s ranching way of li, free from suburban encroachment.  They appear to have succeeded, so far.

I kept going eastward, making a brief stop in the town of Limon (LY-min).  Here are some shots of the quiet town.  There is a substantial Railroad Museum there, but it is closed until Memorial Day.

The next  town of substance in eastern Colorado, before the Kansas state line, is Burlington.  This town’s leaders have had the foresight to assemble a fascinating Great Plains village, called, appropriately Old Town.  I have posted an album of the photos from there.  Here are a few for your perusal.

On the left is a sod house, made by settlers throughout the Great Plains, during the Land Rush of the late 19th and early 20th Centuries.  In the middle is a dance hall.

I find the story of anyone’s past usually worth hearing and seeing.  Burlington’s Old Town is a great way to spend $5, and two hours.  It is visible from I-70.

I made it to the top of Kansas’ nearby Mount Sunflower, a high plateau that is the Sunflower state’s highest point.  More on that in a bit.  After scaling the lofty height, my Kia and I returned to Colorado, and drove on towards Lamar, my evening venue.  I happened by Chez DuVall’s, a fine dining establishment, owned by a local rancher, in the town of Granada, as I previously mentioned.  A soft-spoken young lady took my order of Steak & Blue Cheese Salad, which was expertly prepared, and just as expertly presented.  Chez DuVall’s is a great concept, and a lady in Lamar assured me that it is appropriately packed on weekends.

I was blissfully happy after that wonderful meal, and was satisfied with a bowl of oatmeal and some sausage patties for breakfast the next morning in Lamar.  Wednesday led to Oklahoma, and Black Mesa.  More on that, next time.

HIGHLIGHT: Chez Duvall’s

The key to understanding a place is often found in its social center.  For many communities, that means downtown.  Boulder’s Pearl Street Mall is an excellent example of this, with probably a couple of hundred thriving businesses along its route, and along neighbouring streets.  After my visit with @ BoulderChristina and Salem, I headed downtown, purchased a one-hour parking pass from one of the kiosks that line Broadway Street, left the Kia in a lot, and headed for lunch.                                                                                                                                             

After the chicken salad panini and bhakti chai were a pleasant memory, I left Walnut Street and headed a block north to Pearl Street, and lots of company.  The Mall’s energy belied the dismal weather.  People, thankfully, don’t let a few clouds wreck their weekends here.  There are a wide variety of shops, from Old Tibet to several independent bookstores.  I chose Boulder Bookstore from which to purchase a couple of hiking guides.

Pearl Street, and the surrounding area, are a genuine historic district, from Boulder’s beginnings as a frontier town.

North of the mall, there are some intriguing homes.

I will likely be back in Boulder this afternoon, after visiting my uncle, in nearby Longmont.

HIGHLIGHT: Boulder Books

I left Mesa Verde around 3:30, after ascertaining that my family members would be glad to see me whenever  I got to Denver.  The weather remained fine until I reached the top of Wolf Creek Pass, about 90 miles east of Mesa Verde.  There, at the Continental Divide, I knew the rest of the trip would be in precipitation.

Ahead lay the San Juan Range, and the La Garitas.  I did not encounter snow right away, though, and was lulled into serenity by the relative lack of traffic on Hwy. 160.  Maybe it was that lack of business that led  Chief Chavez, of the South Fork P.D., to focus  on my car, tooling through his downtown.  I was stopped, cited and educated about how scofflaws from out of state can end up losing their driving privileges in their home states, if a citation is ignored.  Since I  was raised to play by the rules, I thanked him for this bit of advice, and came back to reality. I have no trouble keeping my vehicle at or under 65 mph.  It’s staying at 40, or under, that gives cruise control fits, and so it’s all on my mental awareness.

As it was supper time, I looked about for an eatery, but there was none that was conveniently located.  I figured South Fork and I had had enough of each other for a while, so I drove on to Del Norte.  The San Juan Valley is not tourist-oriented, per se, so the sidewalks roll up early.  I did get a sandwich and coffee at Peace of Art Cafe, just as they were closing for the night.  It was gratifying to see the Rio Grande a bit healthier than the last time I passed by it.

It was about forty minutes later that I found myself facing snow.  From Conchas Springs to Conifer, Hwy 285 was, to varying degrees, slick and slippery.  I drove with all manner of caution- in the midst of a second reality check.  The angel on my shoulder, and my own long-standing driving habits, got me safely to Northglenn, and a warm house, around 11:30 P.M.

One just never can tell how a day will turn out, but as long as the lessons learned make me stronger, it’s all good.

HIGHLIGHT: Safely getting to Northglenn.

As the road to Mt. Union trailhead was snowy and slippery, after Saturday’s weather outburst, I opted for a three- tiered visit to the Verde Valley, as my Sunday outing.

After Sunday breakfast with my friends at the Post, I headed out to the Clemenceau Heritage Museum, in Cottonwood.  It is Cottonwood’s historical museum.  Mining and rail magnate James S. Douglas founded a smelter and a town, named Clemenceau, after the Prime Minister of France, Georges Clemenceau (depicted below), who was a friend of his.  The area became part of the town of Cottonwood in 1960.

The museum is only open on Wednesdays and Friday- Sunday, due to limited volunteers.  It does have a decent collection of memorabilia from the life of a teacher at Clemenceau School in the 1900’s, a model train collection, whose builder is the docent, and various items connected with the Clemenceau Smelter.

The various trains and tracks occupy a whole room.

Here’s a typical classroom from the 1900’s.

I have used each type of radio, at one time or another.

Can’t say I’ve used a telephone like this, though.

After about an hour at the museum, I headed east on the road towards Camp Verde, stopping for a couple of hours at Out of Africa Wildlife Park.  Here the accent is mainly on large carnivores, with a small number of herbivores on the periphery of the park.  The mission of the park is education of the public, regarding the needs of large animals, and conservation.  The first segment involved tigers frolicking in a sizable pool of water, with some attendants tossing them balloons and chunks of meat.  Tigers are not averse to water, the way house cats are, so it seemed something enjoyable for them.

Roaming around the fenced-in range, though, would bore me, too.

It had to be warm for the Grizz.

There were various lions, both savannah and Barbary (Sahara Desert) types.

The white tiger shares a range with a lioness.

The Black Bears and the hyenas live in pairs.

Here is a jaguar, which kindly posed for this photo.

This capybara is the world’s largest known rodent.

Last, but not least, this black ibex is one of several herbivores which are housed on the park’s eastern edge.

As there was still plenty of daylight left, I chose to end the day with a short walk in Clear Creek Park, which allows a visit to one of the Verde River’s more prolific tributaries.

It has some of the same limestone ledges that are found at Montezuma’s Castle.

The major draw, though, is the free-flowing water.  Unlike that of Prescott, the water is not so completely dammed-up and channeled.  The Verde, Clear Creek and Beaver Creek  have limited irrigation and reservoir usage.

Nature is like Chinese boxes, and this little trip opens the way to others in the future, like Beaver Creek and Fossil Creek, both further east in the Verde watershed.

Friday, March 2 began my annual Baha’i Fast- which means no food or drink, other than medicinal, from sunrise to sunset, through March 20.  Yes, today is the last day for another year.  This will be my practice until I turn 70, then I don’t need to do an annual Fast.

Enough of the technical stuff, though.  After getting the tire fixed, I headed up the coast to Mission Bay, then to La Jolla.

Here’s a view of Mission Bay Park.

La Jolla, of course, has many things to recommend it. The big draw is the Cove, with its seal population.

Those checking out the Cove can find exquisite accommodations, like La Valencia Hotel.

Fine old churches may be found, like St. James of the Sea.

Then, there is a branch of the Museum of Contemporary Art.

Another key element of La Jolla life is Scripps Oceanographic Institute, home of Birch Aquarium.

The accent here is on sea horses and their close relatives.

The Birch examines three coastal areas:  The Pacific Northwest, San Diego Bay and the coast of Baja California.

I ended my Scripps visit with a view of the research pier.

Then, it was on to Torrey Pines State Preserve, a hiker’s beach, as well as a surfer’s delight.

Dr. Thomas Whittaker built a botanical garden here.  It bears his name.

The trail offers sweeping views of the ocean ahead.

It also accents the delicate geology of the coast.

We have Miss Ellen Browning Scripps to thank, for having preserved the unique Torrey Pines, which exist here and on remote Santa Cruz Island, off the coast of Santa Barbara.

I also got a kick out of watching the surfers messing around with each other, after  a good day’s ride.   One lovely and spirited young lady was giving warm showers over the wall, to her male counterparts.

Friday night took me to my favoured motel in Carlsbad, the Econolodge, and to Jay’s Gourmet, for a salmon Caesar salad.

Saturday’s agenda was a brief stop at Oceanside Marina, where I walked along the Rock Walk and observed more surfers and beachcombers, then a visit to Heisler Park, in Laguna Beach.

Here are some Oceanside scenes:

I bought a ball cap at the mall adjacent to this lighthouse.

Here’s the Rock Walk, with a channel running alongside it.

Activities were varied.

As you can see, the weekend’s weather was perfect.

Heisler Park has a small botanical garden, and some fine views of Santa Catalina Island.

With the afternoon approaching, I headed past the other beach towns and went to Del Amo Mall, in Torrance, where I met a couple of friends from my other blog site.

I ended the day in LA, spending some time at LA County Museum of Art, and the La Brea Tarpits.

The Museum galleries are not an area where I care to take photographs.  I did thoroughly enjoy the Japanese, American and Latin American galleries.  The netsuke in the first gallery is amazingly intricate.  A majestic Herter Mirror crowns the American gallery, which is also filled with representations from all periods of our nation’s art tradition, from Gilbert Stuart, to Pollack and Warhol.  The Latin American collection does justice to the Mexican Masters:  Orozco, Siqueiros, Rivera, Tamayo and Kahlo, and introduces fine artists from Argentina, Chile, Brazil and Venezuela, as well.

I felt badly for the mastodon family.

The smilodons, though, are another matter.

With evening falling, I went to Koreatown and enjoyed some kickass fish cake soup at Hite Kwang Jang, on Wilshire Boulevard.  Then, it was off to a Super 8, in Commerce, for my nighty-night.

Sunday, I woke up bright and early and enjoyed the leftovers from my Korean dinner. Next up was a morning at Los Angeles Baha’i Center, meeting people I know I will see again and again, and enjoying their discourse and their sounds.

‘Abdu’l-Baha, the Son of the Founder of our Faith, came to the US and Canada in 1912, so we are preparing to celebrate the centenary of His visit.  His portrait is in the photo below.

We Baha’is offer this message to our fellow humans:

I capped my visit to southern California, by meeting two more friends from my other blog site, in Ontario, CA.

I missed but one goal of this trip:  Palm Springs Tram.  There is always June, though.  I did make a small contribution to Coachella Valley cuisine- while at a Panera Bread shop for Sunday night dinner, I opted to have my salmon club sandwich on bruschetta, since they were out of croissants.  Bruschetta is a most versatile bread, so now the sandwich masters of Desert Hot Springs have a new offering.

I got home at around 1 AM, ending yet another fun-packed week.

I have been a slacker, with regard to WP.  Not really, though, as you will see, there has been a lot going down.

On Feb. 28, I spent a better part of the day on the USS Midway, an aircraft carrier museum, docked in San Diego Harbor.  Here are a few shots of this incredible hunk of steel.

The 3-4 hours it takes to do this facility justice is well worth the time, even for someone not given to thoughts of warfare.

Like many, I will welcome the day when this type of vessel is no longer necessary, and I thank those who make, and have made, the sacrifices necessary to ensure that such a day may yet come.

Leap Day found me wandering among some other kinds of ships, at San Diego Maritime Park.  Chief among these is the Star of India, a clipper from the mid-19th Century.  There is an awesome program for children here, during both spring break and the summer.  They get to be a mini-crew and the “captain” takes them through the decision-making process that an actual crew would have had to engage.

There is a Soviet-era Russian sub.

“Master and Commander”, with Russell Crowe, was filmed aboard the HMS Surprise.

The rich and blameless had some killer yachts back in the 1900’s.

Then, there was a classy ferry running between San Francisco and Oakland.

The USS Dolphin is here, to represent the American sub fleet.  This one looks way more comfortable than the Soviet tub thumper.

My son, one of his shipmates and I went up to the little mountain town of Julian, where Penny lived and worked the year before we were married.  Here is how Julian looks after a winter storm.

We, however, got inside quickly, and had a great dinner at Julian Cafe.

Then, we mosied outside to the nature parks on the south end of Julian.

March came in like a lamb on Thursday, so we spent some time at San Diego’s South Bay, stopping first in Chula Vista.

Then we went down to Tijuana Estuary Nature Preserve.

I brought Aram over to San Diego Baha’i Center, where Penny and I were married, in June, 1982.

Of course, no trip is with out its personal growth experiences, and so, as we were returning towards Aram’s base, my left rear tire went pffft.  I got back to my motel, where my faithful son offered to change the tire.  He was successful, felt good about it and I got him back to base.

In the next post, I will feature my journey homeward.

Now that Google Chrome, and Java 6, have me past glitchville on these posts, some further ancient history is in order.

The morning of February 27 dawned cool and drizzly in San Diego.  A nice hot spinach fritatta and coffee, with a blueberry muffin, at Perry’s set me right to face the day, though. I passed through security at Naval Base San Diego and got to Pier 10 in plenty of time to join the crowd waiting to greet our sailors, on their return from the cross-Pacific journey. More hot coffee, and a rare indulgence in a donut, helped the occasion along.

The ship came, about twenty minutes past the stated time, but no matter.  The nervous young wife, three proud Mexican grandmothers and various sailors returning from leave early to greet their shipmates, all breathed sighs of relief.

Aram came off the ship about 11 AM, we went for lunch, through the rain, then went over to Navy Exchange, gassed up again, and purchased my new camera.  The one that has faithfully served me, up to now, is my wife’s pink Kodak.  I have a solemn vow to get it to a 7-year old girl in Phoenix, so my replacement is a Samsung PL 120.

Aram took me on a tour after our NEX visit.  He is one of the navigators, so  he was somewhat responsible for getting the ship and crew from Dubai to San Diego.

The destroyer USS Wayne E.Meyer is no small vessel.  I would be seeing many ships and boats this trip.  The Meyer is one of the newer ones.

Our day, after the ship tour, was filled with dinner at California Fresh, followed by the film “Safe House”, at Horton Plaza, in the Gas Lamp District.

HIGHLIGHT: Checking out son’s ship!