Made It Out of the Canyonlands!

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This is a short update just to let you know that we finally made it out of the canyonlands on Monday. I am on a borrowed sticky keyboard which has knocked my typing words per minute back down to my old high school levels of a negative rating after subtracting for mistakes.

It was a long day for Steve, Vicky, myself and all the fur critters, a VERY long day. They had set off at 4AM from Albuquerque for our last day of moving and were ready to kick butt for one last mission and it was a full-out, non-stop mission. And I was dreading that last long look around so badly; my supply of stress adrenaline depleting rapidly now after three months nonstop. The fur family was the last to be loaded up, followed by Terry's cowboy hats on the headrest and his shoes on the passenger side of my Dakota although barfing Ms. Daisy would ride shotgun with me, too. True to form and despite a dose of Dramamine, she performed one very colorful flash of stomach contents before setting down which I have still not addressed. I would like to vegetate for a full week or so after yesterday's emotional exodus.

They led with Terry's big Ram diesel pulling the red 16 footer across the washes and down the choppy and often deeply sandy roads at a snail's pace since we had packed the last of the Rat's contents hurriedly and much less professionally than Wayne had done. Two hours later, we reached the highway and I had managed to stop long enough along the way to each back and wrestle a number of aspirin from the box beside the yowling cats' crates and the disturbing ailments subsided reasonably by the time we reached pavement. Then the pace picked up considerably. Even so, we were all exhausted by the time we arrived at the new place. Once essential critter comforts were addressed, it was time to quietly sit in a stunned and breathless manner for the rest of the evening with good and jovial company.

Hopefully, I will be back within a week; right now, I just need to sleep a little and then adjust to a reality long postponed.
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Here, Lets Try This Then

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Apologies to all the rabid grammarians out there but I removed the contraction apostrophe in the post title (and might yet regret leaving the comma in). It appears to me that these things insert all sorts of unexpected html gibberish if you leave them in place in titles. And I am not in the mood for html hieroglyphs on a good day. It's just another ol' Sam Ludd thing, you see.
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Thanks to your moral support (I WILL remember those who were kindly) when I really needed it, I have come up with this blog plan for the summer:

After today's post, I will be back on the 27th of June and will try to post a story by every Friday thereafter until autumn. Since there are so many stories yet to be shared, these postings might run a little longer than the previous ones and cover several subjects. I know, this is a long interval between posts but a necessary one at the moment.
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Here are the remnants of the old log barn built in the early 1900s. It seemed more fitting to memorialize it in the colorless sepia tones of that era when things were so much harder, so much more demanding of effort to accomplish even the slightest task. Shovels, picks, axes, sweat, a strong back and a powerful stubbornness. Supplies from the outside normally brought in by tall-standing Model Ts with rigid suspensions and near-gossamer tires as time, fortune and technology moved on. But that breed of stone-tough people had arrived by horse-drawn wagon over tracks which were yet to be forged or civilized, had to build their own shelter from scratch in either blistering heat or the inescapable bite of winter. They had no health insurance, no pension, no social hammock to fall back on. They died in the normal course of working and giving life. But they were strong and vibrant with few expectations and appreciated every blessing from nature, fate and the accomplishments wrung from their own calloused hands. Where has the one hundred years hence really brought us? We now die older ... but not necessarily more content and more fulfilled. How do you think and feel on this subject?
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Summer Hits the High Desert

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It has been simply gorgeous out here today. The sun is gauzed over lightly by wispy clouds, keeping the air cooler than normal. There is a strong wind blowing through, suggesting that Nature is about to bring new weather our way. You never know quite which way she will change, you simply know that there is change afoot.

And I am finally comfortable in pronouncing that summer has hit our high desert. It was barely two weeks ago that we had our last hard frost with temperatures dropping down into the mid-twenties before dawn. That one felt like the last official frost of winter to me, finally! Yesterday, the temperature broke the nineties mark and prompted the annual ritual of reviving the swamp cooler. If you have never lived in arid regions, then you probably haven't a clue about how this odd, simplistic and miraculous item works. If you tried this in Missouri, you would be mildewed from head to toe and sweating even more profusely.

The more dignified and descriptive name for this device is 'evaporative cooler'. The idea is to drizzle water down over fairly absorbent materials in the in-take filters so that air flow will cause 'evaporative cooling'. To bring this idea home, remember back to running under the sprinkler as a child and feeling the breeze bring a goose-bumpy chill as it hit and dried the water on your skin. THAT is evaporative cooling at work!
.The Rat's swamp cooler had been draped over with canvas since last Fall and now the Spring uncovering and resurrection was due. It is a ritual to mark the seasons. Mark found and readied the ladder and, since I am least likely to break the Rat's smallish rafters with weight, I climbed up onto the roof and unfastened the tarp cover. Mark winces noticeably when I scale the metal ladder in my 'construction slippers' (which are basically soft-bottomed moccasins) but I like the real time connection with my footing and the rungs don't seem to bother my in-step at all. This explanation of the 'construction slipper' is really for my U.K. cousin who has asked what apparel might be most suitable during his upcoming visit. The term came about since I have used such footwear forever and for everything, including severe house make-overs. Mark never did get over my use of them and OSHA would undoubtedly faint dead away at the prospect. But what was most hilarious was when I mentioned construction slippers to an old friend who I found again after twenty years and he knew EXACTLY what I meant. "You wear construction slippers, too?!" Sure enough, he sent me a photo of himself building a log cabin and shod ever so comfortably in those versatile moccasins. Great minds and all that, you know, but not recommended for the faint of heart and tender of foot.

Mark scaled the ladder next and siphoned out the slimy residue left over from last year before refilling the sump reservoir and making sure that the make-up water float control was functioning properly.

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Job done! Here is the swamp cooler ready for hot weather action once again. Now you can see that the unit has a louvered intake panel on all fours sides. Behind each louver is a pad of material over which water is drizzled continually by a small amp pump. The big strain on the generator is the start-up of the fan motor, one not unlike your furnace fan but without it, you are not going to get any cooling effect in the living space.

Our regimen is to open the exterior hose bib which supplies the water to the pump and then let it catch up since water will evaporate from the reservoir over night. To allow proper and even through-circulation, we then open a window at each far end of the Rat and make sure to close intermediate windows or at least narrow the openings considerably. Then we make sure that the sensitive computers are not on during the start-up of the cooler. You can turn them on as soon as the start-up amp demand of the fan motor has been satisfied however. The last step is hitting the cooler switch. If the start-up doesn't kill the generator with its demand, you grin and begin to feel the cool relief wafting down from the big ceiling vent ... a glorious relief!

The pros and cons of this unit in our situation:

I suppose we could have gone without any cooling at all and simply lay there sweating and whining incessantly throughout the entire summer but both of us run body systems more suited to Alaska and don't tolerate heat all that well (don't ask us why we settled in the desert - it was just one of those strong emotional things).

With the prospect of only generator power and maybe eventually solar power, standard compressor-driven 'refrigerated' cooling was absolutely out of the question. The electric supply required to keep such a system happy was too great for our situation.

The swamp cooler has much less electrical demand but it is a shameless water hog. I monitored its water consumption through the translucent walls of our 350 gallon water tank. The unit will consistently use almost 100 gallons of water a day during the hottest weather. If you have to truck water in, this is not an affordable option. Fortunately, we have a shallow and plentiful well and can refill our tank as needed.

Just as an exercise, now consider what demands such popular cooling systems would place on the limited water resources of any quickly growing city in the desert. Some new desert McMansions may consume three or four times that amount of water. You can eat up water or electricity ... or just wilt miserably and unproductively in the heat. Decisions, decisions, decisions ... as always.
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Leaving the Creek Behind

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The idea of leaving our creek behind brings some rueful moments with it, even aside from the name of our journal becoming largely irrelevant at that point.

Although it is dry for most of its life, that one percent when the creek runs fully is a marvel to behold. You can wade through the sage brush and descend to sit on its banks, listening to the rise and fall of the waters as they find new pockets in the sandy banks to tease and roust and to watch any number of curious things being rolled along noisily in the shallow but rowdy currents. And you imagine for a moment what it would be like if this creek was forever so alive. Trout? Silent wading anglers? Being able to launch an inner tube and drift lazily down to its end? Utterly pleasant fantasies for a cool and breezy afternoon with the sun dappling warmly down on your arms through the chattering leaves of the tall cottonwoods. Peaceful. Joyous. So deeply invigorating.

But the creek soon spends its small allotment of rain waters and withers into a silent white sandy ribbon once more.
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I came across this above photo again this morning and smiled. The old storefront architecture had helped inspire my original plan for the new Rat Town facades and the theme echoed my fondness for the totally incongruous and outrageous. Before I found this photo, I had already planned on hanging faux store placards announcing guided fishing tours and water skis for rent in the midst of our dusty desert canyon. Come to think of it, I might still do so when we relocate up top. Maybe I'll even stock a cattle watering trough with a few goldfish and call it a resort. Well? Why not?!
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The Triumphant Return

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Now that we have discovered this new petroglyph, we look around the immediate area but it is obvious that no more are to be found today. The sun is starting to impose a bit of unwelcome perspiration. Despite the cooler Autumn weather, any movement out under the sun rays will do so as the day progresses. It's time to head back to the shade of the Rat plus a shallow bowl of milk for our feline adventurers. Even so, you regret leaving the thrill of the hunt behind.

But wait! Beautiful Dave the Cat has wondered off while we were busy enjoying the new petroglyph. "Bea-ut-i-ful DA-A-ave!" No answer. For the first time today, I am reminded of the perils of the canyon. It doesn't help that Dave came to us with no appreciable voice. Ming will let you know where he is quite readily, even when he is playing hidden panther games. Dave will not. At best, he will utter something akin to a breathy "Achhh!", a very quiet cross between the call of my crows and a German U-boat Captain. This will not help in finding him. And so we back track, calling and surveying the brush between the high mesa walls and the creek bank cliffs. Still nothing. Now I recall passing an explosion of rabbit fur on the way here, no remaining carcass, just random tufts of fur. An eagle strike, of course! I am suddenly deeply ashamed that I have let the lure of the triangle rock lessen my vigilance for the ever present threat of eagles searching for rabbits, cats and whatever else they can dive down upon. WHERE is Dave? "Bea-ut-i-ful DA-A-ave!!!" I now feel concern seep in as we pick up the pace of the search.
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Finally, ever so thankfully, we see a flash of his white fur as he trots towards us from the creek. "Ohhh Dave, WHERE have you been?" Relief replaces worry as I fling him up into my arms and squeeze him. Once we retrace my steps to rejoin Ming, who has lagged far behind by now, Dave squirms restlessly to be let down. "Now ... you two have to stay with me, okay? We're heading home." Look up now. Any sign of flying predators in these cloudless skies? No? Good, let's head down to the creek then!

There is no doubt in my mind as to why the term "like trying to herd cats" became popular, even though my two little friends are the best of hiking companions. Each still has his own agenda and joyful distractions. This can be a source of considerable concern when eagles are about. Hawks, crows and kestrels are no threat but those eagles are quite another story. I had mentioned this to a visiting Apache woman. She said "Cats? With the size of the eagles I saw up the canyon last month, you should watch out for your dogs as well!" These people don't exaggerate unless they're trying to pull your leg. She wasn't.
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Sorry about that little skid down the embankment. This really was the closest and easiest way down, you know ... honest! See, only the seat of your pants shows any traces of that indignity and I won't tattle. Where are the boys now? The cats join us at the edge of this sandy interstate-wide creek crossing. A look skywards. "Okay, guys, let's go!" Dave is, as always, the first to boldly go where no cat has gone before, strutting casually along in the open without a care. Ming follows slowly, already looking for his next hiding spot on the other side.
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We were about a third way across this broad thoroughfare when my crows appeared noisily with an unrelenting heckling from the mesa at our backs (see photo above; the mesa on the right). First only a pair of crows but ten others joined in as I looked up. They were circling a pair of eagles above us and ruining their silent high vigil. "Thank you!" I shouted as I drove the two cats quickly across to the other side.
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But cats cannot be herded on the best of days and Beautiful Dave was content to stop far short of cover and lie down in the creek bed (see photo above). One person juggling the immediate welfare of two cats does not make for efficiency. Luckily, Brou made one of his frenetic passes and responded to "Get Da Kitty!" He LIVES for such moments. With Dave now driven into the thick rabbit brush, I only had to worry about Ming. I shouldn't have worried, he soon joined us via deep brush cover.

The crows had done their work; the eagles tired of their raucous company and retreated back to the north. I so wished to collapse with relief at that point but we still had a long trek remaining in front of us. The undulating flats seemed more vast than on the hike in as I listened and watched intently for new predators while keeping the cat herd tightly by.

I find little as comforting as twisting the door knob and having a stream of animal friends beat me into the Rat's cool interior after such a good day's adventure. Are you ready for a bowl of cold milk now? The boys certainly are.
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While we're on the subject of cat herding, you might as well go see this video if you have the time and download capacity:

YouTube - Cat Herding

Yep, it will give you a pretty good idea of what Slim and the boys will be doing this Spring out here on the range.

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Sun and Shadow

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Retrospect: Late October 2007
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The sun out here in the high desert does a marvelous job of changing the views in significant ways, not only by the season but throughout the hour. My example below is of a favorite view of mine when I stand on the porch.

I love to gaze across the creek to the far mesa wall and ponder the red and black streaks on this one particular rock formation. If you look beneath the yellow dot in the upper half of the image below, you will see a very unusual triangle of red color. To me, it was an unlikely shape for Nature to form for no particular reason and it held no end of intrigue. Then, late one afternoon last autumn, I happened to look across the creek again (see the lower half of the photo). That triangle was NOT part of the rock face at all but a triangular obelisk of rock unto itself. Could that really be?
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I happen to be feeling pretty good today so whether you're ready or not, put on your most comfortable hiking shoes because we're going to round up 'the boys' (Ming and Beautiful Dave the Cat) and head across the canyon to find out what's really over there; the placid contemplation of this mystery is about to end.
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Once we cross the ups and downs of the sage and chico flats and find a reasonable path down through the steep banks to the creek bottom, it will be surprisingly hard to find the right path up to the target area on the other side. Expect one or two false starts as the ledge at the foot of the mesa runs out abruptly due to massive erosion. We will have to back track down into the creek bed and start all over again. All that huffing, puffing and cat herding for nothing so far.
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Finally we're all up and headed in the right direction. When the scale changes from far distance to 'in your face' macro, it is hard to determine if you have really found the right spot. The bluffs of the creek won't allow for back stepping to regain any part of our initial perspective. Here is a prime example above. You can see Beautiful Dave (in the lower third of the photo) watching Ming (center of photo) who is about to explore the dark crevice in front of him. On the right of that crevice is our target, the red triangle rock! Who would have guessed so at this point?
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The reward! Once we are able to stand at the base of my elusive triangle rock, we look up and see this incredibly ancient and weather-worn petroglyph. Did you feel that little shiver of delight run down your back as you glanced up and saw it, too? Look! One, two, THREE little Indians plus, I dunno, a critter of some sort to their immediate right. Was this rock part of a larger intact work at one time? Did you find your imagination trying to paint in the missing artist scribing away? Did you wonder if they had lived on that narrow bank in front of the rock or were just migrating through with the seasons? What was he saying?

While the rocks mutely testify to a past unfathomably ancient, there is something far more moving in finding a message or expression from a fellow human standing in the same exact spot as you but half a millennium before. There are so many messages in the rocks which we have yet to rediscover. Perhaps you will be right here with us when we do.
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The 'Monsoons' Have Arrived!

I took this photo right a sunset. It occurred to me that if I had painted this landscape on canvas, viewers might presume that I had exaggerated the cloud formation. The height of the clouds extended beyond the range of the lens but what can be seen is still ample fodder for imagining various fanciful figures within them. What do YOU see?

The arrival of the 'monsoon' season (a relative term in the desert) is now bringing heavily overcast skies in the afternoon and evening with some possibility of rain. Even if the clouds bring no rain with them, their shade from the piercing sun offers a welcome drop in temperatures and perhaps a cool breeze. We sat out in the mostly finished addition yesterday and enjoyed the coolness of the moment which entered through door openings yet to be addressed. Accordingly, there is little incentive to rush into enclosing this retreat from the heat. Bring on the rain!