Eastbound and Back, Day 36: Replenishment Alerts

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June 3, 2024. Moriarty- The world is not so much finite, as it is a place of temporary systems. Each system has its unlimited aspects, each can only hold so much, at any given time. A stomach can only hold so much food; a cerebrum can only focus on so many thoughts, at any given time; a bladder can only hold so much fluid; a bank or credit union can only hold so many accounts; a border station can only process so many visitors, properly, on any given day-and so on.

Eventually, any given lack can be replenished. Any given problem, no matter how novel, can be solved. So it is, that I focus my energies on meeting some expenses as they occur, paying others in advance and making provisions for the maintenance and replenishment of my savings, however much they may be temporarily be needed in the interim. So it is, that I schedule time at Home Base I, no matter that I might be called away again-as is the case this weekend and next week, as well as in the second half of July-and in the Fall. So it is that time is set aside for health-related check-ups, and regular cycles of exercise, diet and rest, as a means of avoiding serious illnesses down the road.

Today was a long drive-from Grapevine (Home Base II) across a vast swath of northwest Texas and eastern New Mexico, to this favoured way station, roughly 30 minutes east of Albuquerque. I did not stop to visit friends along the way, because it is a workday and because I need to focus on choreographing the rest of my week rather tightly. A surprisingly nice lunch, at a Pilot Travel Center, in Rhome, TX and a few stops for refueling along the way, made the whole day flow. This coming Wednesday until Friday of next week is a busy time, mostly for faith-based activities. “To whom much is given, much is expected.”

Single Digits and Hundreds of Petroglyphs

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December 26, 2023, Santa Fe- It was 6 F, about ten miles south of Chevelon Butte, along the road between Payson and Winslow, at 6:30, this morning. By the time I reached Winslow, the heat had kicked in and it was a balmy 21 F. Gallup offered 19 degrees and Albuquerque, 37.

Along the route, I saw two coyotes sprinting across the highway, between Stoneridge and Crossroads, in Prescott Valley and, much later, two pronghorns gamboling in the desert, just east of the Rio Puerco Casino, outside Albuquerque. Police were along the highways in force, especially in the early morning hours, when I was driving in darkness. Passing the upended hulk of a wrecked semi-trailer, I felt grateful for their presence.

The main focus of the day, though, was on petroglyphs, the communication medium of pre-writing societies, in many parts of the world. Albuquerque’s Petroglyph National Monument, in the Duke City’s northwest corner, offers hundreds of descriptive figures, in three main clusters. The first, just south of the small Visitor Center, is Rinconada Canyon. This sector features a 2.2 mile loop trail, which took me about 45 minutes, a good part of which was spent noting the depicted animals and people.

West Mesa, at Petroglyph National Monument, Albuquerque.
Easternmost petroglyphs of Rinconada Canyon.
In the upper left hand corner, two beady eyes peer out from a small rock.
This collection reminded me of Newspaper Rock, south of Gallup.
The artists used pigment from plants, to add luster to some of their glyphs, chipping off the naturally-occurring lacquer and applying pigment to the bare stone underneath.
Two fish, a festal cup and a star adorn this rock.
This basalt ledge is one of many that served as a grinding table.
Spanish explorers added their art to the rocks. This “patriarchal” cross is one of many found in the West Mesa rock forest.
Here is an example of a figure that gives rise to speculation about extraterrestrial visitors. Puebloans caution against such speculation, saying we cannot know, for certain, what the ancients had in mind when these scenes were painted.

I went on, to Boca Negra (“Black Mouth”) Canyon. Here, there are three trails: The short Macaw Trail, the moderate Cliff Base and the “strenuous” Mesa Point Trail, which was easily climbed by a three-year-old girl, along with the rest of the group.

Mesa Point Trail:

At the base of Mesa Point, there is quite an assortment of figures.
Mesa Point’s own newspaper.
Looks like Gingerbread Man, with a robot t-shirt!

Here are scenes along Cliff Base Trail

Pupal scorpion?
“Greetings, future ones” ?
Fearsome mask?
One last newspaper clipping

I took a breather, to put gas in Sportage and fuel in my tank-at Which Wich, an innovative shop that uses a combination of technology and “check-off” paper bags, which the diner fills out and the attendant uses, in making the customized sandwich. 

Last, but not least, was Piedras Marcadas Canyon, which co-exists with several housing developments, yet seems a world away, once one is on the trail. There are two options here: Petroglyph View Trail, which goes directly to the scenes, and North Rim Trail, which goes to the top of the mesa-sans petroglyphs. I took the former route.

“Bob” couldn’t help himself. I’ve felt that way, but never given in to the carving impulse.
Here is a more “conventional” astrophysical image.
Finally, a “family” portrait.

There are many more scenes, which will be on my Flickr site, but you get the message(s).

July Road Notes, Day 1

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July 5, 2021, Moriarty- I am in a more relaxed frame of mind, this time around-as compared to the “get there and get it done” mindset of May’s out and back. Departure out of Home Base was fairly early: 7 a.m., and I did have one Baha’i Zoom meeting this afternoon, but my flow was fairly even-between 65 and 80, most of the way (A few construction zones called for 45-55, but no workers were on the highways today, as it was a Monday Make-up, for Sunday’s Independence Day.)

I made a coffee stop at a Maverik, in Dewey, AZ, about 40 minutes into the drive. This is of note only because a poor soul, just trying to get a cup of joe, found the lid on his cup didn’t quite fit-the third time in a row, he told me, that this has happened. We agreed that he probably was not the only one to whom it occurred. I wished him a better day, and was glad that the lid on my cup was sealed.

I kept an eye on the roadsides, in an area between Camp Verde and Winslow where wildfire had wreaked havoc, in late June. There was a burn scar on the ground cover, in several spots, but no tree singeing. The road between there and Gallup was serene and, as mentioned earlier, no construction work. Going through Albuquerque was also no big deal-save that, when a Jeepster decided he wanted to “tandem race” me, on the Duke City’s east side along I-40, a state patrolman in an unmarked car flashed him to move over one lane-then looked over at me and told me to get behind his car-no pull-over, no citation, no warning-just “get out of the passing lane”. As I was essentially minding my own business, when the Jeepster became Jerkster, the officer’s command was easy enough to follow. They both left the freeway, at the next exit, and I continued over the mountain, to this eastern suburb.

I had stayed at Sunrise Motel, once before, under a previous owner. The current management is on a strict pandemic protocol: Phoned check-in, outdoor document reading and signing-with a six foot distance-though masks are not required outside, and key to be left in the room at check-out. The room is the same as before, complete with a rubber duck by the bathtub-as well as a plug that fits the drain (less common than one might think, in the days of drought and cutting costs).

Tomorrow, I head over through Texas-to my family in Grapevine.

The Road in Winter: Part I

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This is the first of three posts I will make tonight.  Please read at your leisure.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Prescott, on the First of February, 2016

When the Essential Oils Winter Summit concluded, on Saturday evening, I made the choice to drive twenty miles northward, to visit my 90-year-old paternal uncle.  As Nature would have it, snow began falling as soon as I drove north, out of Longmont, where he lived until the middle of last year.

I found  the vicinity of his new residence, in the pleasantly-named city of Loveland, and gave ring.  His response was predictable:  “Gary, I appreciate your coming up here, but it’s dark and snowy, and it’s hard enough to find my building during the day.  Come back in summer, and please head as far south as you can, out of this snow.”

I listened to my father more often than either he or Mom ever thought I did, and now Uncle George is the closest I have to a father, so I was on my way south along I-25, in short order.

When we in the Mountain West are faced with dark, snowy roads, we stick together.  My fellow travelers and I made it out of the whiteness around the middle of Denver.  I didn’t stop for a bite to eat until I had reached the north side of Castle Rock, midway between the Mile-High City and Colorado Springs.  A meatball sub at Mama Lisa’s got me back on an even keel, and I enjoyed the banter between the four or five workers and a Douglas County Sheriff’s Deputy, who is apparently one of the regulars.

Three hours later, I called it a night, in Trinidad, near the New Mexico state line.  The Tower Motel is unique, and has large, affordable rooms.  That last part is getting repetitive, which is exquisitely comforting.  The road in winter does not lend itself to comfortable camping, after all.  I enjoyed four nights of such accommodations, and would go back to any one of these establishments again.

Tower uses a “European” system of card entry.  As in France and Belgium, I placed the card against a magnetic pad on the door, and was buzzed in. It was nearly midnight, so before long, I was fast asleep.

Morning came quickly, with gray sky overhead, but no snow.  I got packed on the double, and was down the mountain, and in metro Albuquerque, in three hours’ time.  The day in Duke City was gorgeous.  It was time for a respite at one of my favourite spots there.

Next up:  Rio Grande Nature Center, and how I dodged the storm.