The Road to Diamond, Day 278: Tying Loose Strands

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September 2, 2025- Coming up to a ledge, on the trail between White Spar Mountain and Goldwater Lake, Hiking Buddy and I spotted nineteen American flags-the sign of a memorial to the 19 Wildland Firefighters, who died in 2013, at Yarnell Hill.

Other forms of death showed themselves nearby.

Beyond, though, are the many signs of life, for which these sacrifices have been made.

We made this short hike, as part of a run-up to my own seven-week absence from Home Base I, and from Arizona. I have had a good summer here, and now it is time to tie up loose ends. Connecting HB with an aficionado of her type of product was another result of today’s efforts. Finally getting through to a critic of local organic farming, earlier this morning, was another.

The rest of the week will see me on a worldwide prayer call, then up at Hopi for a brief visit with new arrivals in the Health Provider community and a Red Cross meeting here, on Thursday. Friday, I will continue my dry run of packing, as the weekend is full of special events, on which more, in a few days.

I have also carefully spoke my peace about other issues, and so far had little push back. Towards that end, I will not elaborate on my thoughts in this forum. We are all entitled to our own opinions, though not to our own facts.

No matter where I go, the sacrifices of those brave men commemorated above, and of others like them, will still figure large in my consciousness. They tied the loose strands of community, by giving their very lives.

As We Go

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December 25, 2022- It’s quiet, this morning, as it often is around here, on any given Sunday. Occasional cars go by, but most people in the neighbourhood are either busy with their worship services or are opening and enjoying their gifts from each other.

My gifts are more of the heart variety, this year. Just having family and friends is always a blessing, whether they are those who include me in everything, or are more selective in their invitations. All are appreciated and loved. It was an unexpected honour to help a former student’s family by transporting aod single gift to their home, yesterday. Being able to finally connect with an old friend who experienced horrific loss, earlier this year, was a bonus. On the way back, it was also a joy to find Sizzler Steakhouse open, get a good sirloin & shrimp combo, and be served by an angel of a young woman. There is a gold mine, in the ordinary.

I have no idea how this Christmas Day will pan out. Siblings are silent, probably busy with a dozen things. Friends nearby are struggling, and need space. After a devotional, later this morning, the whole of Prescott’s outdoors is waiting, along with a likely visit to Prescott Resort’s always scintillating Holiday Display. As with any organic day, I suspect it will turn out magically.

So, no matter where you find yourselves, on this special day, look to the angels in your midst, and to the better angels of your nature, and know that things will turn out for the best, even if they take lots of time.

Merry Christmas, one and all!

No Reindeer on This Ride

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December 24, 2022- The father took his teenage daughters to pick out a Christmas tree for their home. He was used to going alone, and picking out a huge spruce, that only fit inside the house after a struggle and some sawing off of limbs. Not this time: The girls saw a scrawny, mini-tree, no more than three feet tall. They fell in love with it, and wanted to take it home and care for it-“Looks so lonely, Daddy!”. Yes, the result was a foregone conclusion, and the tree is said to be sitting in the family’s front room, decorated by Dad and his eldest angel.

With this story under my belt, I headed off to deliver a gift which had inadvertently been mailed to me, by a rehabilitation worker who was confused by a patient sending “too many gifts to too many places.” Spoiler alert: There were four gifts going to two places. No reindeer were over-exercised on this delivery. It was me and my Sportage doing the honours.

After a stop in Flagstaff, to pick up a small gift for a family in the same area, who have been suffering a most untimely loss, I headed to Hopiland. Going to delivery stop # 1, I got Reservation-style directions from a woman who barely knew the recipients, and, combining her comments with the description I got from the sender, I was able to deliver the gift easily, and get the t-shirt that was intended for me and had been mailed to the other party.

The other small gift was then brought to the matriarch of the grieving family, and after a brief offer of condolences, I headed back off the Hopi Reservation, a place that has never stopped feeling like home. “Visiting” Hopi families, during periods of mourning or when the people are preparing for a holiday, is a necessarily brief occasion-unless one is of blood family. Then again, the same has been true of late, with other friends- visits pertain to the matter at hand, and vague promises of “getting together again soon” precede the farewell.

Holidays just are not easy for many.

The Ridge

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December 23, 2022-

Ocotillo cactus, late blooming and in autumn fade, Ridge Trail, Sedona

Akuura, my Hiking Buddy, and I chose the Ridge Trail as a pre-Christmas route, following a wide loop path, which ended being close to three miles-a fairly easy but vigorous workout. The Ridge in question would have taken us another forty minutes to get to the top-and thus remains a goal for future efforts.

As it was, we got at least one fine view of the great formations to the east and north.

View of Sugarloaf Mountain and Brins Mesa, from first ridge, Ridge Trail, Sedona
Sugarloaf is in the background.
The remnants of last week’s cold snap remain along the washes which drain Carroll Canyon, along which the Ridge Trail runs. Every ice formation tells its own story.
Some juniper trees tell of hard times.

After our loop, Airport Mesa called-with its Mesa Grill providing a fine repast, as always, and the views from the Mesa top offering a different sort of dessert.

Thunder Mountain and Sugarloaf, from Airport Mesa
Sugarloaf and Brins Mesa, from Airport Mesa viewpoint

Ridges, loop trails and sweeping viewpoints also happen in other aspects of life. The afternoon came and went, with no word on the work situation for next semester. Since I have a Plan B, there is not a whole lot of upset on this end. The main thing is that the students get the best possible teacher, given the circumstances.

More immediately, tomorrow will find me on a relatively brief visit to Hopi, to deliver a gift from a hospitalized former student to his wife. The spirit of Christmas will allow for no less.

Ad Intensium

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January 10, 2021-

(The above is my own coinage, meaning continuously building in strength or force.)

The cold continues, leaving mornings here, in the Teens

and brings snow to the Texas Prairie,

even to the Piney Woods to its east.

The obfuscation continues,

taking advantage of a quiet weekend,

and foretelling extralegal events,

over the next two weeks,

with a surety born of either

delusion, or collusion.

I sit here, in my cozy home,

getting residual chills,

from memories of last Sunday night,

when I walked in the vastness

of a majestic, but nearly frozen,

wilderness.

I read of another soul’s

peregrinations,

in Sedona and near Hopiland,

and recall my having been

greeted,

by spirit lights,

nine years ago,

in a place named

Shalako,

at the bottom of

Palo Duro Canyon,

and not too long after,

in the bed of the Hassayampa River.

I see and feel

the days and weeks to come,

ad intensium.

Surprises, Challenging and Delightful

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January 13, 2019, Happy Jack, AZ-

I woke this morning, to find six inches of freshly-fallen snow covering the area outside my room at Delta Motel, Winslow.  It is a high desert community, and the residents were as surprised as I was, that the serenity brought by snow had descended upon their environs.  I’ve liked the Delta, for several years, because of its unpretentious yet immaculate rooms, a few of which had rockabilly themes, under a former owner.   The rooms now have a distinctly Southwestern flavour to them.

The snow did leave me to ponder the rest of my day.  Having said that I wanted to visit friends on the Hopi Nation, ninety minutes northeast of Winslow, I had to consider the weather and road conditions, plus the fact that I have to be in Phoenix, for an appointment, tomorrow morning.

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I opted to head for home, primarily because between Winslow and Prescott there lies high country, regardless of route.  There was poor reception for both phone and wifi, so discerning road conditions, later in the day, was problematic.   After breakfast, and wishing the caring and efficient motel staff a fine day, I filled my car’s tank at a station across the street.  Winslow is famous for  the late Glenn Frey’s reminiscence of a girl “slowing down to take a look” at him, whilst he was standing on a corner there.  It was rather ironic, that a sweet-faced young lady sat in her car and smilingly watched as I filled up the tank.  We never spoke, but her smile was a comfort.

I headed south, as she headed north, and found the road, to this little village on AZ Route 87, very well-plowed and free of ice.  This high country town has a small cafe- Tall Pines Cafe, named for the largest contiguous Ponderosa pine forest in North America.  Fresh chicken noodle soup and delectable quesadillas were my filling lunch.  The snow was as fresh here as it was in Winslow, and would cover the ground as far as 2/3 of the way down the rim to Camp Verde.

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P.S.-The rest of the drive was uneventful, with bare ground from Camp Verde until I was just about back in Prescott.  I take comfort in that farmers will have a leg up, come spring, if the precipitation continues at the level it has fallen, thus far this winter.  I will make time to go up to Hopi, later in the Spring, and certainly at some points during Summer.

Nonetheless, surprises from the Universe are part of what keeps me going strong.