April 14, 2023, Aptos, CA- The Australian surfer dude turned restaurateur took my order for two of his unique tacos, made of baked vegetable shells. I chose red beet shells, one filled with ahi and avocado; the other, filled with crab and avocado creme. Diced vegetables and mango topped each one. When it came time for me to pay, he was off doing something else. So I looked around the immediate arcade and nearby shops, then came back and paid. This isn’t something I particularly feel okay doing, but this is Capitola.
Before the storms of January and March, the little town was a surfer’s haven. Margaritaville has a branch here, and there is the well known Pizza My Heart. Many places are just now renovating and preparing to reopen. There is a Homeless Garden Project that is getting started as well, and when I get back to Home Base, I will order a few of their products, to help the effort along.
Today was my day off from shelter duty, and it was lovely day for a hike. So, I started out on Seacliff Beach, just south of the wrecked SS Palo Alto, which has been left in situ, as a marine animal habitat. The cement ship was used, for a time, as a recreation and entertainment site. People came from the Bay Area and Sacramento, to dine and dance on its polished wooden floors, and gaze at the stars on the northern edge of Monterey Bay. Now, it is the centerpiece of this part of Monterey Bay Marine Sanctuary.
SS Palo Alto, wrecked by a storm, in 1932.SS Palo Alto, from Seacliff Overlook
Seacliff, New Brighton and Capitola Beaches all suffered from January’s Atmospheric Rivers. March’s sequels didn’t help matters any.
Seacliff Beach, AptosDriftwood at the edge of a forested hill, Seacliff BeachA lone cliffside bouquet, Seacliff BeachBoulders moved by the surf and collapsed from the force of the January storms.Little Koe’s Beach Bits, Capitola, CA-Home of the veggie shell tacoCapitola VillageCapitola Wharf, damaged in January, 2023 Atmospheric RiversSnow glories, New Brighton Beach, CapitolaLong-billed curlews, catching their meals
It was a full six-mile roundtrip, up a couple of bracing flights of stairs and along a flat, but sometimes absorbent, stretch of sand. Both Aptos and Capitola are worth a day of exploration.
April 3, 2023, San Jose- The three giddy teens had no qualms about running into the street, but seemed surprised when I stopped and let them finish crossing. This was about the only blip on the calm radar screen that has been playing out, in this economic hub, of the Tech Hub that is Silicon Valley.
The day started early enough, 5 a.m., and after the usual routine of shower, shave and devotions, I got packed, loaded the car and started out around 7:50-then the zipper on my Vietnam Vet jacket separated, from the bottom. I managed to get it fixed, then headed over to True North, where I was initially mistaken for the owner, who is also my weight reduction coach. He came in a few seconds later, took my figures and found no significant change from last week.
Next up was the shuttle to Phoenix. I got to Groome’s terminal in plenty of time-to find we were waiting until nearly departure time, letting anxiety rear its head, ever so slightly. Never fear, though, the driver was merely picking up a disabled woman at her home. Five more stops later, we were en route to Sky Harbor, and made it to the airport on schedule.
It’s been a while, since I last flew Southwest Airlines-with all but one flight having been seamless. Today’s short hop, Phoenix to San Jose, started with me being mildly upbraided by a ticket agent for not putting the tag on one of my bags neatly. I made the mistake of checking the departure board-and ending up in the wrong Gate Area. Fifteen minutes later, with a delicious jalapeno-cilantro hummus and grilled chicken in tow, I got to the actual gate-with another fifteen minutes to spare.
The flight was typically smooth, spent in the company of an interesting couple who were headed to Palo Alto. only a minor gust of wind, which rocked the plane, just before we landed, interrupted our discussion of modern education. We pretty much concurred on the consequences of inconsistency and “faddism”, and breathed a sigh of relief when the wheels hit the tarmac.
Getting the bags was fairly swift, and catching a ride to Red Cross-San Jose took a few phone calls and texts, but the driver, while surly, showed up within ten minutes and got me to the headquarters building-where I learned I was going-not to Visalia, as planned earlier, but to Watsonville, home of Santa Cruz County Fairgrounds. That will be my assignment until at least April 11. I am also working day shift, much easier on my constitution.
The evening drive around San Jose was in search of a pair of reading glasses, following a Zoom call during which the soft light of my hotel room rubbed the need for such eye wear in my face. I can read full well in good light-but the converse is not true. I can, however, see to drive perfectly well-and no random pedestrian in the middle of a road is in any danger-even when putting self in harm’s way.
Thus did a long day pass, and end perfectly nicely.
April 2, 2023- These thoughts come to me, as two weeks of night duty approach.
I don’t see much of my restaurant-worker friends, as the weight-reduction plan continues and my schedule takes this one afield. Nevertheless, I think fondly of all of them, and wish a steady flow of diners and income.
I haven’t gotten out to see local friends, as much as I might have. Nevertheless, I keep each of them in my heart.
It’ll be three weeks until I get back to my weekend routine in Prescott. Nevertheless, I summon the forces of assistance to the Farmers Market, to my beloved vendor and worker friends, and to the regular breakfast crowd at Post 6. May all be safe and well.
I have no idea what lies in store for the suffering masses, both across the United States and around our planet. Nevertheless, I sense that all will heal and goodness will flow, even from the darkest of times.
I have no clear picture of what lies in store for us in the Central Valley, even with improving weather. Nevertheless, our team will do everything possible to safeguard the victims of nature’s ravages, until it is time for them to safely move on.
The weeks and months ahead will be filled with both challenge and opportunities for growth. There will be a lot of work required and putting the needs of all manner of people on my radar screen. Nevertheless, I will maintain self care and keep my focus.
March 27, 2023- I got a text, and an e-mail, from the Red Cross, early this afternoon, wanting to know if I would be available to assist in the recovery efforts following the latest wave of tornadoes in the mid-South, especially in Mississippi. I will be available starting Sunday, so we will see what RC’s response is.
The South appeared to have endured a triple whammy, these past few days. Tornadoes have come to be expected, yet those which hit rural areas at night have tended to not get as much forewarning as their diurnal counter parts and are thus deadlier.
School shootings, sadly, have come to be expected-and are dismissed as “an unfortunate trade-off for the protection of rights under the Second Amendment”. That codicil says no such thing, but has been interpreted as protecting the “rights” of the craven and the mentally ill, to the extent that it is, itself, no protection at all for those who either don’t own firearms (the vast majority of underage students, for example), or do not bring their weapons to the workplace or leisure spots , OR are outmaneuvered/ outgunned by the aggressor. Oh, for the days of a well-trained militia and firearms safety classes, as the prime missions of the National Rifle Association.
Thirdly, the Thirtieth Anniversary of the Waco Massacre should have been a day of national reflection and shame. Instead, it was turned into a political circus. Fortunately, a good many of those who went there to reflect, grieve and process their emotions did their processing and quietly left, well before the politicizing and venting had come to a close. To me, the carnage that day was every bit as reprehensible as what followed in Jonesboro, San Ysidro, Lakewood, Sandy Hook, Sutherland, North Charleston, Fort Hood, Pittsburgh, Roseburg, Arlington, Peoria, San Bernardino, Uvalde, Parkland, La Plata, Oxford and Nashville-as well as the places which escape my recall at the moment. The deaths of people, in misguided loyalty to one man are a supreme cautionary tale-and I pray the Divine that this never is repeated, for the sake of any one leader, father figure or surrogate neurotic means to power.
I’ve spent many enjoyable days in the South, as in other parts of the country and the continent, over the years. My heart hurts for those affected by each of the tragedies above-and while certainly praying, I am also willing to go and help in the recovery process, should my presence actually be welcome-as it was in Louisiana and Dallas, three years ago.
March 16, 2023- The usually placid river overflowed its banks, while I was up in New Mexico for a day or so. A large number of people, many living in RVs, fled their park, with some ending up in a shopping center lot and others settling into the parking lot of the Red Cross shelter, at a local school. The shelter itself was otherwise quiet, with a couple who had left their riverside home and three volunteers, quietly monitoring graphs that showed the progress of the flood’s subsidence occupying the small gymnasium. Thus it was, as I stopped briefly in Camp Verde, on my way back to Home Base.
Santa Fe, where I spent yesterday evening, and part of this morning, was alternately experiencing cold drizzle and light snow. Friends who “mind the fort” at King’s Court Motel, Pantry Restaurant and Henry & The Fish Cafe were nonplussed and I got my usual warm greetings. The two eateries have fare that fits nicely into my weight reduction plan. The lodging is quiet, comfortable and central to anything I might want to do in The City Different. I could always opt for the International Hostel, down the road, but it is seemingly always full. Sometimes, quieter is just better.
The road back was also alternately rainy and snowy, until I got to the turn-off that brought me down hill, from the Mogollon Rim to Camp Verde. I saw flowing water in river and stream beds that are normally dry sand. Much of this is a positive development, with the price being that nearby residents take the risk of maybe losing some personal items and of having to up and leave for a few days. It can be worse, of course. There are several places on the California coast where the land has given way. I saw a photo of an apartment complex in Oceanside, where the swimming pool is now at the edge of a collapsed cliff. There actually appeared to be people in the pool
I thought a fair amount, about how places where I may find myself once or twice a year, or sometimes once every two years, ever seem just as much like home as this Home Base of mine. Time and space don’t really seem all that much of a burden. In each case, it seems like things that happened decades ago seem like yesterday and across the country, or the ocean, seems like next door.
In many respects, the flow of time is similar to that of water. It’s productive use can yield similar nourishing results. Both can be squandered; both can evaporate. Both can also be destructive. Sometimes, neither is missed until it’s gone. I do know that we have what we need, of each, and how it’s used is up to the individual.
March 15, 2023, Santa Fe- The day featured what is almost typical of my visits outside Home Base, this winter: A light, cold, but not overbearing rain. So, I took my umbrella, donned my rain and shine hat (with its flap and wide circular brim, to aid in protection from the two elements) and set my phone to the QC-enabled audio guide, going around Aztec Ruins National Monument. A ranger spoke of Earl Morris, the driving force behind the excavation of the western sector of the ancient community and the original occupant of the house which now serves as the Monument’s headquarters and museum. She also noted that the name of the place came from a Spanish stereotyping of all Mesoamerican First Nations into a single ethnicity: The Aztecs. The Tewas, Tiguas, Towas, Keresans and Hopi who settled Chaco, Mesa Verde and Aztec, before dispersing to their present home areas, had their trade connections with the people of Mexico, but they were entirely separate, culturally and linguistically, from the nation that dominated much of that ancient land. Another focus of the ranger’s talk was the system of roads that traversed outward from Aztec, as well as from Chaco. With no vehicles or beasts of burden, the people likely had to carry cut wooden beams, building stones and other materials on foot, using hauling mechanisms and walking two or three abreast, for almost unimaginable distances, in order to build the communities.
Here are some scenes of this remarkable complex, the pride of modern Aztecans.
Great House, Aztec West ruinsSouthernmost of three Great Kivas, Aztec West ruinsConnected apartments, Aztec West ruinsInterior, re-constructed Great Kiva. Aztec WestCentral Great Kiva, Aztec West ruinsDoors connecting apartments, Aztec West ruins. These were created because of pot hunting by thieves, in the early Twentieth Century.View of original doors connecting apartments, Aztec West ruinsInterior doors, Aztec West ruins
The ruins on the eastern and northern sectors of the complex have yet to be excavated to the point they may be safely shared with the public. The ranger also noted that there may well be sites buried under the modern town of Aztec. These could very well be uncovered at some future time, as so many sites have been, around the world.
The rain only intensified, after I left this UNESCO World Heritage Site, so postponed until a later time are Salmon Ruin and other sites in Bloomfield, southeast of Aztec-and a hike up Kitchen Mesa, at Ghost Ranch.
I am holed up for the night at King’s Court, a small, cozy place (and my favourite in this town) not far from either downtown Santa Fe or from Pantry Restaurant, where three people I love dearly provided me with a steaming bowl of Green Chili Stew-a perfect, healthful meal for this chilly evening.
March 14, 2023, Farmington, NM- Back in the 1980s and ’90s, an earnest young family of four lived in a compound, at the foot of a mesa we knew as Dinnebito (People’s Water). Some called it Mosquito Springs, but that was nothing extraordinary, either. There are people, and mosquitoes, around most potable water-and the latter are even less discriminating than the former, so they hang around the nasty stuff also.e
Many of the people who left Dinnebito did so because of the freeze on construction and home improvements established by Congress, due to the dispute over land, between Dineh and Hopi. By the time that was resolved, and the freeze lifted, around 2010, most people had already left, or passed on, as did the former Chairman and first President of the Navajo Nation, Dr. Peterson Zah, who was from nearby Low Mountain, where he was recently laid to rest, after a stellar life of service to the Nation and to the field of higher education.
The young family grew to five members, then was at four, when they moved to the house by Black Mesa, in the early 2000s. I had not seen them for nearly thirty years, so it was high time. First came a call on the mother, at her workplace, then an hour or so was spent visiting the father and, fleetingly, one of the daughters (who I remember as an 8-year-old) and her two children. The kids keep Grandpa busy in retirement and his overall demeanour is one of a man in full.
He made a quiet request to be a part of the next visit I make to the Baha’is in Utah, an easy enough request to fill, as Tonalea is on the way. Suitable advance plans would have to be made, so next time, I will head up there. This journey, I decided to give the southern end of Four Corners some love, so I am here in Farmington for the night, and will head over to Aztec Ruins tomorrow.
March 7, 2023- A few weeks ago, I made reservations for a train & chartered bus combination, from Flagstaff to Sacramento, for April 26-7. This was as springboard to the Carson City/Pacific Northwest/Alaska journey that is coming up. There was one sticking point: The Baha’i Festival of Ridvan, commemorating Baha’u’llah’s Declaration of His Mission and His departure from Baghdad, en route to Constantinople (Istanbul) falls during that time. Of course, there are observances in each of the cities on my itinerary, but supporting my home Faith community matters.
For several days, I attempted to change the date of the train ticket,with no success. I had the inspiration to try again, this evening-and met with success. So, the journey will take place on May 3-4. From there, after three or four days in Carson, the route northwestward will continue. The next inkling I had was to return to Southeast Alaska and continue what I last did eight years ago, then make further stops along the south coast of British Columbia.
It struck me that there is more to postponing the journey than being present for local Ridvan observances. It may be that there is a dermatology procedure that needs to be done soon. I will probably hear about that, tomorrow or another day this week. Inklings and guidance always seem to be covering several bases at once.
March 5, 2023- Last night, an extended family member took her last breath and left behind many years of suffering. Hers was a voice of truth, at times hard to hear-but a voice that needed to be heard, nonetheless. Her passing was a bookend to Penny’s transition, twelve years ago today.
I’ve taken stock, a fair number of times since, of my “solo” journey-that hasn’t actually been taken alone. It’s worth looking back, though, every so often. Since bidding her adieu, I have sold a house, on my in-law’s behalf, settled into a solid one-bedroom apartment, gone through five cars, seen the marriage of our son to a strong, confident and beautiful woman, visited forty-eight states (only Montana and North Dakota remain unvisited) and six countries, completed two long local hiking trails (albeit in sections) and volunteered with five organizations, besides my Faith Community.
Most important, though, are the friendships made-both long-lasting and fleeting. Some have also gone on to the next level of existence. A couple have been lost, through miscommunication and the interference of those who saw me as some sort of threat. A few others have turned out to be nefarious, and had to be cast aside. Most, though, will be in my circle until death separates us, albeit temporarily. They will always be in my heart.
There is no real Master Plan to any of this-three of the cars were wrecked by the actions of other people and one just wore out; the house was sold because of a double-taxation scheme, in another state; the travel is a combination of who I am as a person and urges to see people who live far from here. The hikes are also a reflection of who I am, besides being a good way to help with one of my current focuses-weight reduction.
Yet, in another sense, I do follow a Master Plan-one which all of us follow, either wittingly or unwittingly: The Major Plan of the Creator. I am in awe of all that has happened in my life, particularly over the past forty years, and especially over the past twelve. Much, I know, remains to be rolled out, and I look forward to it all, the easy and the hard alike.
February 23, 2023- The toddler was unequivocal in her expression, as toddlers can be. She wanted one specific item, and only that item-and what was Daddy doing with it, anyway? (He was keeping it safe from being scratched or broken, but minor details get lost in the shuffle.) Once she got the binky, all was right with the Universe.
A good many of us are transactional in our relationships, wanting one thing and only that one thing, from a friend or family member. This is the root of many a conflict, as I, for instance, may not value your binky, the way you do. I may not prioritize sitting by the window, waiting to be called for one reason or another. I also may not prioritize getting in the car and driving back to the place from which I just came, because I missed seeing someone, due to a change in their schedule. What I do prioritize is what helps those who have been marginalized, what brings people together, especially those who have historically been set against one another-even if that separation is due to the egotism of one or another-or both. I prioritize clear communication and the well-being of both individuals and people as a group. I have learned to prioritize my own needs, as well, since if I am incapacitated, I can’t help anyone.
Rant over. The day actually went well, even though an old friend was not available, due to circumstances that were made clear to me, after I got back to Home Base. The snow, en route, was light and did not affect traffic at all. There was some sort of mishap, between Casa Grande and Phoenix, going in the opposite direction on I-10. Traffic heading south appeared to be backed up for nearly six miles. Our traffic pattern was slow, but not backed up, and it took about fifty minutes to go from the southeast corner (Sun Lakes) to the northwest (Anthem) part of Metro Phoenix.
Earlier, I found a delightful little cafe in Patagonia, where I enjoyed coffee and a simple bowl of steel-cut oatmeal. Common Grounds was the site of the family encounter mentioned above, and is a relaxed place, with flexible ordering from the menu. A few others were able to get customized breakfasts, while I was there-and the food is of good quality.
Once checked out of Stage Stop Hotel, I drove to Nogales- taking in Primeria Alta Historical Museum, which offers balanced exhibits on the effects of Mexican history on border towns, the impact of the Buffalo Soldiers camp on life in Nogales and a special tribute to the women of Nogales and their impact. Charles Mingus, the great jazz musician and spiritualist, was born and raised in Nogales, and Mexican rhythms flow through his work, just as Blues and Gospel do. There is also an exhibit on the rancher, Pete Kitchen, and his evolved relationship with the Apaches, particularly with Cochise and his son, Chise.
Pimeria Alta Historical Museum, Nogales
The ties with Mexico are duly celebrated, of course, and in no better form than a triptych of Mexican history by Salvador Corona, who took up painting after retiring from his career as a matador. He covers the time before Spanish conquest, the meeting of Moctezuma and Cortez and the days of Spanish rule.
“Pre-Conquest”, by Salvador Corona“Moctezuma Meets Cortez”, by Salvador Corona“Colonial Era”, by Salvador Corona
The life and achievements of Father Eusebio Kino, who founded several Missions, in what is now Sonora, as well as in Arizona, is covered at length here as well. He is best known for having established the Mission at San Xavier del Wac, southwest of Tucson.
Now my transactions are done for the day, and I sit here at Home Base, having driven pretty much nonstop, but at a leisurely pace, from Nogales. We’ll see what, if anything, this storm system brings over the weekend.
A Sagittarian Seeker 