Showing posts with label hiking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hiking. Show all posts

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Erode the High Road

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As much as this is a brutally tough and rugged appearing land, it is also a very delicate and sensitive one. It will bleed profusely when scratched even ever so lightly. As time goes on, I will show you more photos of what even the fairly benign elements of wind and rain can do to this landscape sporting the tough-guy facade.
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Mark decided to go east to start this week's sign posting chores 'up top'. We had not been through the locked gate at the ranch's end since mid-summer and he was back within the half hour, insisting that I come see the summer rain's work on the road beyond for myself. "No, you won't really appreciate what I ran into unless you see it for yourself, I kid you not. C'mon, jump in the truck!" Since Daisy won't jump into the truck but WILL run herself to death following us, we tethered her to the moving trailer and headed down the road with the ever well-behaved Brou in the back seat. Mark did the honors at the gate and began his play-by-play narration; "Okay, so I'm through the gate and mostly thinking about the crossing at the creek itself when I hit the brakes because I am suddenly looking down eight feet, dead in front of the truck ... right about ... here!" Thanks to that impressive re-enactment, my breakfast was now requesting an instant replay. "Yes, thank you, I can see how this might have commanded your full attention, I can, really."
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Then he noticed a new trail blazed through the rough grasses to the west and pointed the Ram's head to follow. It generously skirted the old road (now a committed arroyo) in a rough and bumpy manner and finally met up with the work of a back hoe which had placed a bridge of dirt across the new gap at a narrowing much further up. At this point, we parked on the other side and walked back to the edge of the old road.
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This photo above was taken after we found a less treacherous path down into the wash. I have placed a yellow line in the photo to indicate the original path of the road as recently as July. Although I cannot describe our rains this season as being exceptional or even plentiful, there must have been just the right downpours in this exact area to incise 8 feet of earth away from the road bed here.
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We wandered down the arroyo to find the matching end of this now defunct road (marked with a yellow spot). It was nearly impossible to imagine this much material ripped away by one season's rains. I thought of a ditty occasionally murmured by an eccentric engineer I once worked with in phone plant; "Rooty-toot-toot, Rooty-toot-toot, We are the boys from the institute, We are not rough, We are not tough, But - we - are - determined!" He'd always turn to face me for that last line, one index finger up in the air for accentuation and that madman grin on his face that I so adored. Now, that may seem like a strange recollection to make at this moment but it struck me that this was how our rains operate; not in vicious assaults but by gently overwhelming their surroundings with a doggedly patient determination. No tsunamis, no crashing white waters, just a constant relaxed flow, unebbing and thoroughly resolute.
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We wandered even further down its now dry course to where its path was less incised, to where it was beginning to make concessions to the normal grade of the land at either side. This photo above shows Mark standing in front of a pile of flotsam caught in an exposed gas pipeline. Perhaps that debris pile will someday become a starter bed for new silts and sands to form a new deflecting bank. In our lifetime? It is more likely that the 40 or 50 feet of newly exposed 6 inch pipeline will rupture and fill our canyon with gas at impressive compressor-driven volumes. I followed the fresh tracks of several cows up to and either over or under this line. Since there are far more hazardous cases of exposed pipeline in the region which have gone long unaddressed, we don't expect any miracle of responsible maintenance to occur any time soon. Tell you what; if you hear of our demise by massive inferno, the first one of you to investigate and prove that it was corporate negligence, you get what's left of the ranch, too, okay? There will still be a goodly amount left, I can assure you. I will only hang around to haunt the corporate bean-counters and budget wonks responsible ... promise. I'm sure any one of them would freak if I performed my infamous Daytona hairspray blow torch demonstration in their living room but it's okay for them to do it to us on the Russian Roulette macro scale.
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I did get a consolation hike in the process. Mark was quite willing to hang out by the truck while I scaled a new mesa bench with Brou. I will admit that it took longer than I had planned (AS USUAL) but it was such a joy to wander through the trees, over one odd formation of worn terraces and rocks to another and yet another. Soft, dense area rugs of pine needles under foot, the natural sandstone steps, the smooth open paths of old rains, the strewn gravel of old glaciers, the hidden niches and shelters in the worn rock. Occasionally, I would pass by a shard of ancient pottery which whispered to me that someone else had once loved this place as much as I. It is in these places where I am most free of time's shackles, most fully aware and most joyfully alive. I hope you all can find a place like this in your lifetime.

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Tuesday, April 17, 2007

A Spring Fever Hike For The Cats



Current news:

"It was a dark and stormy night ... " Well, it wasn't until Murphy and his laws stepped in again. There was only a 20% chance of thunderstorms called for today. They did not arrive until a few minutes ago which, of course, was not long after Mark asked if I would do the generator shut-down tonight. The heavy rains came without warning so there was no chance to slip out before the ground became slick. I can picture myself tripping into the drainage ditch, doing the splits in the mud and bunging up my bad knee so there is not much incentive to rush out there now. The only other incentive might be to avoid losing the computer in a lightning strike, OH, like that one ... F-L-A-S-H ! ! ! ... one ... two .... KERASSHHH!!! Certainly got the kitty boys' attention that time. So, here I am waiting out the worst of it. Can't dance, might as well write a new blog entry.


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The kitty boys were not to be denied their walk any longer, not this morning. They had seen the dry ground from the big window, felt the unusual warm press of the sun in their fur and they now sat like tall teapots in front of the door as if intense stares would make it open.


With Mark off on a supply run, I would be alone for most of the day and I had not planned anything too exhaustive. Neither of us have recovered our energy since that last bout of illness. The cats' glares were starting to get to me so I finally opened the door to the porch. They both slid outdoors, down the steps and over to the moving trailer in a swift and mercurial motion. They were on a recognizable mission so I found my rubber boots and headed over to the mesa wall. Sure enough, they were on my heels and soon we were all, Brou included, up on the first bench (first lower step of the mesa). We had hiked along this bench many times and it was Beautiful Dave The Cat who decided that we should assault the second bench today. By then we were well west of our known trail up but we started up anyway. It required a little more athletics than normal, a little more energy than I had hoped to invest but the trio were thrilled with the adventure.



We were now so close to the top but the last barrier to success was a solid wall of sandstone over ten feet high. We skirted along its base, hopping from boulder to boulder or occasionally sliding down boulder faces as the ledge changed levels abruptly. It was Brou who found the final path to the top, although in a disturbing way. I happened to look over just as he made a leap over four feet straight up. He missed the unseen target, his toenails audibly scribing the rock, and he fell back down and tumbled for several feet. Fortunately, the ledge was wide enough that he didn't turn into a rolling stone and end up back down at the first bench. As usual, he was back on his feet instantly and grinning merrily. It reminded me of our last outing when it was I who lost footing on some dried leaves, fell right square on my ... dignity ... and then did a lumpy side roll down through the rocks and sticks for fifteen or twenty feet before inertia let loose its claim on me. It's funny how, even though you are miles from anyone, one of the first things you do is look around to see if anyone saw you perform that most undignified descent.



My achy hip and knees winced at that recollection but we were all ready to inspect Brou's potential path. Before I could boost him up, Brou made a second lunge and cleared it this time. Dave and Ming followed immediately behind and now all were staring back down at me impatiently. Not to be the poor sport, I kneed, butted and dragged my ample carcass up, through and over the last boulders. The view was a breath-taking reward. The flat plane of our normal canyon bottom existence expanded upwards and outwards as new mesas and far skies were revealed. The ribbon of our canyon and creek extended for miles more beyond our normal perspective. Even the kitty boys sat down on the rock ledge to contemplate this new view of our world. I cannot describe the feeling of peace and contentment to quietly sit with friends, large or small, and simply exist in such a beautiful place.


I always let the kitty boys set the pace and eventually Ming initiated the homeward descent. As much as he fusses if he thinks we are going on a hike without him, he loves the return trip best. With the help of gravity, it wasn't long before we were all back home at the rat.


As I sat collapsed in the wing chair, I heard a familiar noise just outside the open window and looked up. The first hummingbird of the year had returned, looking for last year's feeder. I realized that even the feeder bracket had disappeared during the re-siding project and felt like a complete heel as he flew away a few seconds later. I curtailed my rest and went in search of the feeders. They are now back in place and ready for the hordes to return. I had once read an e-mail about how 'they' send out scouts so you have to get the feeders up early. Good heavens, what utter poppycock. By that comment, you'd assume that hummingbirds traveled in massive divisions like the U.S. cavalry. Hardly. If you miss the first ones, there will always be more showing up later in ones and twos.


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Humor of the day (this one's from Virgil's Mom)

Take 60 seconds to try this. It's too amusing not to.

1. go to www.google.com

2. click on "maps"

3. click on "get directions"

4. type "New York City" in the first box (the "from" box)

5. type "London, England" in the second box (the "to" box)

6. hit "get directions"

7. scroll down to step #24 (this number might change however so look around in that vicinity if the gag line isn't apparent)