Racing the Rains Home

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I had planned to show you intriguing photos of the ghosts of metal victims of the running washes but this was probably my worst emotional week since Terry died. I had been carefully avoiding anything that might trigger the worst of the sorrow that I knew I could not deal with yet since the stress and the upset of this rapidly approaching move from our canyon will certainly provoke its own lion's share. That didn't work out as planned however. So, instead, I will share photos with you of our access road condition which weighs so heavily on me right now after last night's rains.
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The rain had mostly held off for my three solo trips out of the canyon. And other than seeing this odd bird (above) on Friday which appeared almost double-winged, the trip in went well and without too many excitements other than the usual one or two oncoming vehicles sliding into sudden view from blind corners at impressive speeds. An adrenaline rush trumps coffee any day for waking up fast and fully.

This necessary trip on Friday let me almost beat the storms home. I had made it across the creek and was only a mile away from the Rat when the skies dumped their full load suddenly. I could now see the Rat and picked up the pace, fish-tailing a little here and there on the newly slick dirt. Having picked up Virgil's bed full of moving boxes, I didn't want to dally in the deluge any longer than necessary and heaved a long sigh of relief when the Dakota finally dove under the shelter of the barn's tin roof. Good, only the top layer of boxes had been soaked so I now ran to the Rat in my favorite go-to-town moccasins through the mud slime. I should have brought my tall rubber boots with me, I knew better than to leave them at home, in fact. At least I had remembered to bring a flashlight and a roll of toilet paper just in case. You will only need the items you don't remember to bring - it's another quirky law of the wilderness.

I jettisoned the mud-caked shoes on the porch and all dogs and cats were on deck to witness me blow through the door and collapse breathlessly into my wing chair. They had been very good, not leaving me any 'chocolates' of desperation to deal with. The five of us just sat quietly listening to the thunder and the roar of rain on the Rat's tin roof. Then it subsided unexpectedly within a half hour and the dogs were able to go out to execute their withheld duties with exuberance. I was just thankful that this sudden but short-lived downpour might not force the creek to run that day.
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The creek had been a major, ongoing source of concern for us this year since its meandering course had begun to claw away ruthlessly at two sections of our road in. It had been narrow but sturdy and nicely passable upon our arrival here three years ago although the man who moved the Rat in for us had noted that we lucked out in buying a 14' wide trailer and not a 16' wide one because of those narrow road widths.
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This photo was taken during this last dry spell, well before Sunday night's downpours. I don't have the heart to drive down there to see what's left of the road today. News, good or bad, will reach me soon enough.
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So call me a wimp but I don't like the thought of having a section of road collapse beneath me as I am driving over it, especially when it's a long way down to the creek below. It could ruin your sterling insurance rates in a hurry. I find it even more disconcerting when it involves a heavy vehicle full of your treasured and often irreplaceable belongings piloted by even more irreplaceable friends. The water haulers announced last week that they would no longer let their tanker drivers cross this section of road. This news did not impart a warm and fuzzy feeling to me at all.

We have planned the big move for this coming weekend. This might just be my biggest unofficial heart stress test coming up. Please keep us all in your best thoughts and prayers this week.
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Blogger Weather Report

See bottom of post for updates!

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I don't want you to worry if I don't post again for a day or two. With satellite as our only connection, we are very much subject to weather conditions. I am typing as fast as I can right now while nervously glancing out the window to the West. The band of snow-heavy clouds which dominate the skies has been slowly drifting this way and the connection is becoming sporadic now. We will be just fine; plenty of food and adequate fuel for a week but we might not be able to connect tonight if the weather conditions deteriorate further. Currently (just after lunch time) there is a very light rain at 41 degrees F. Although we had discussed plans for dinner again with Slim tonight, he has wisely chosen to head north this afternoon. He will take his two horses with him so that none of us have to worry about feeding them during the bad weather and road conditions which might follow.

I should have taken some foodie photos of our dinner last night; Slim's private stock of rib-eye steaks (which he thawed under the Ram's dash heater as he headed down this way) topped with my herbed and butter-fried mushrooms, a hearty pile of sour cream and butter smothered baked potatoes and Slim's perennial favorite veggie, green beans. We gorged ourselves into joyous misery and then kicked back and washed it down with either beer or whiskey. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to us, Slim's extremely disciplined cattle dogs were busy ripping up our elk hanging in the barn. Sum beech! We didn't figure this out until later when Slim got half way back to his camp and realized that his beloved ancient 'Big Dog' had been left behind. Despite being blind and deaf, Big Dog's sense of smell has remained keenly intact and he wasn't about to leave the elk carcass nosh frenzy any time soon. They did a number on that right front quarter by the time they were done. I later found Daisy in the barn trying to get her dibs in on the newly exposed flesh. And here our dogs had been SOOO good about leaving that elk alone, expect for maybe a little gentle gnawing at the shin ends. Aged or not, it might be time to do the abattoir thing on my kitchen table. Sigh.

Given the horrid weather in California and Nevada, I just tracked down Jet Stream maps today. It is my own strange way of telling what's headed our way. So here it is according to blogger location:

Sunday: The Creek will get nailed with a little snow at altitude as the JS (Jet Stream) remains diagonal but shifts Eastward. Red and Catmoves might see a little snow, Buck will probably luck out. Then it heads NW to where people don't read my blog anyway so who cares. Hmphh.

Monday: Sort of the same, just sliding more to the East (more crud for Red, Cat and Buck).

Tuesday: Babzy gets some precip. It passes over Red and Buck as it heads south to the border. It angles back up towards FHB and Phlegmmy on its way back from the Mexico vacation. It will slide over Towanda as it heads almost directly into the northern boonies where Hudson Bay blanket sales will surge. Craver will see some snow. Dirtcrashr and Buck's pal Morgan will get a break on the West Coast.

Wednesday: Northern Cal gets more moisture, Towanda gets a break, it scrubs up against Bruno on the way south, it kinks back up before hitting the Gulf and smacks Mushy and then Goddess. Looks like Lin and carteach might luck out with quick pass-overs of crud. The Atavist might see a little slop, too. Da Moose sees some weather, too.

There, all that said, now I will admit that I don't know a thing about meteorology but I really enjoyed this exercise of including my continental blog friends!

Remember: if I disappear for a bit, blame the weatherman!

Update: 7:30PM Mountain Time - .This is my equally accurate 'step out the door and look up' report: Light snowfall has ended, negligible accumulation. Only one star visible but you know it's not bad when the satellite signals can get through. YeeHaw!

Update: Monday, 3:00PM Mountain Time - I just checked the JS maps again. It confirmed what I was seeing out the window this morning - the JS is right over us and bringing part of that nasty precip from California with it. It was coming down thick enough that the satellite couldn't cut through it just two hours ago (just when we needed it for vital ranch business, of course). The sun just peeked through and we're settled in for now with a 3-4" accumulation. Touch wood.

The updated weather maps now show the JS taking a wild hair twist on Tuesday, like someone snapping a length of garden hose. This one shows Babzy, Moose, Craver and Bruno getting hit with something, everyone else breathing easy for now. Atavist gets a quick something in passing. Phlegmmy and FHB don't get anything with this latest layout and stay that way.

Wednesday's map shows Red and Cat getting some snow with possibly Buck lucking out again, possibly. Towanda and Bruno might luck out, Craver is in the path and Goddess and Mushy might get a little skinned but not badly.

I just realized that Thursday's JS map is from a week ago - glad I don't run an airline according to this site's information. Here, if you want to see what pig entrails I am delving into, go to weather.com - Aviation Maps Index and then look through the menu of jet stream maps available by day and click away, just be aware of the dates shown on each. Find out what the weather has been like in the area of the JS path on its way to you, figure in how the temperatures (hot or cold) along its path will affect it and if it's picking up more moisture (as in over the Great Lakes) or losing it. It's just plain fun and MUCH less messy than dealing with real entrails, without about the same success rate. If nothing else, you will develop a greater appreciation for the poor guy who does the evening news weather report.
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For All You Do, This Mud's For You

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Our invasion took a pleasant turn when Slim showed up last Wednesday. I swear, his company could take the horror out of a nuclear winter. I started one of my long simmer spaghetti sauces that morning and we gorged ourselves silly on that and the French bread he picked up before heading into the canyon. He's very good about calling ahead to see if we might need something. As usual, we kept that dear cowboy up far later than he is used to and he headed out late the next morning to do his pasture planning for the coming winter graze and some needed maintenance around his headquarters 'up top'. He came back the next evening and I had marinated and slow-roasted a big chuck roast from his own private beef supply. His reaction was absolutely worth all that fussing around the oven all day. Again we stayed up way too late but you make the most of good company when it shows up here in the boonies.
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It was probably a good thing that we had mentioned Brou's new profound talent with flatulence since Brou decided to bunk in with him in the guest room. You could have predicted Slim's exclamation in the morning; "Well, you weren't kidding about that fartin' hound, were you? I woke up in the middle of the night thinkin' that a couple of your batteries had blown up or something. I mean the hairs in my nose were burning, know what I'm saying? Gawdamighty, it was THAT bad! I almost booted his butt right out the front door right then and there!" I have to admit that we fell asleep at night chuckling about it and glad that Brou had given us those aromatic evenings off for a change.
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We all woke up to the sound of heavy rains hitting the Rat's steel roof. Mark had the coffee on early and we all lounged around over steaming cups before Slim wisely headed back up to his place. Knowing these roads as we do, we were concerned that he had several options for getting stuck in that slick, thick clay mud. He was very good about letting me know when he was eventually back on pavement (I take after my mother when it comes to pacing and worrying).
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The next day brought even more rain and we saw the roads turn to a clinging, viscous slurry. We didn't have to go anywhere so we just sat back and watched the mud bog show. Semis were still coming in and, towards the end, a few of them slid off the road rink and rode the deep bar ditch at an alarming 45 degree angle with their top-heavy loads until the wheels hunted themselves back out. They must have been butt-puckering themselves senseless during that whole process. The truck above (look to the immediate right of the semi cab exhaust stack) fell prey to those inverse railroad tracks into the muck. It was a while before the rescue came in the form of a 'SKYTRAK' which also fish-tailed precariously down the road. The semi cab just happened to be following along close behind. These 'SKYTRAK' type machines are definitely a very versatile little machine and very much fun to watch under skilled operation. You can also see them at work in the photos below.
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Yesterday's entertainment was some poor sod trying to deliver a replacement SKYTRAK. He got stuck BIG TIME in the site access road. The irony was that the replacement unit on the trailer and the existing unit had to both come to the semi's aid, several times. There was a point when the semi made it all the way down to the intersection of the access road and main road (third segment of photo above) before getting mired again and I will admit that I almost hoped that it would stay there, blocking all further ingress and egress. Shame on me ... well, perhaps, kind of, sort of.

By the time the precipitation had stopped on Sunday, our gauge had registered over an inch of rain and we got to see the ongoing mud drags as the ruts got deeper, the fish-tailing more frantic and the plumes of mud getting higher and higher. It helped our viewing pleasure to know that a couple of trucks worth of rig people had blown by one of our regular field guys while he was mired in the creek crossing that they had messed up. This despite his attempts to wave them down. You don't cross 'our boys', period. The downside? We have to get into town soon for a number of overdue reasons, including bringing our supply of windows and antique doors into the people who are constructing our two new buildings. In the meantime, it sure was great to watch God and Nature administer a little poetic justice.
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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!

Laughter really can be the best medicine

We've had a run of overcast skies and damp, chilly temperatures. Slim sounded pretty bummed out on Friday during the rain but had lucked out up top on Saturday and Sunday with a dry weather window for his annual cattle round-up. I don't imagine that having a trailer full of rained-out volunteer workers and bored kids would be a treat when everyone had been hyped up for serious cowboy action. Nor could I imagine having to wrestle with a lot of wet calves in the mud, especially since we still have all of his plumbing supplies in the back of the Dodge that he needed to get the showers up and running again. I guess we all just ran out of time on that project.

We had our own cabin fever moments brought on by this weather. It turns out that Daisy, the new dog in town, loves to find mud holes and returns soaking wet and mud covered. As she dries out, her thick, kinky hair sheds dust everywhere by the mound full. To cut down on the dirt, we have been keeping her indoors far more than hoped for. Two people and four critters are possibly too many for a place the size of the rat trailer, especially when that really means the kitchen and living room area. Daisy chases one of the cats, Brou chases Daisy as the new enforcer, Mark chases Brou to call him off. I sit here wondering where all the wonderfully deafening silence has suddenly gone.

A cabin fever hike was overdue. Rather than bring the entire entourage, I snuck away with just the original boys; Beautiful Dave the Cat and Ming the Merciless. As we threaded our way through the sage to the spring, I could hear Mark's exasperation with the two dogs who knew very well that they had been left behind. Just me and 'the kitty boys' once again and thankfully the whining and barking died down after we disappeared from view. Serenity had returned at last. We hiked along, exploring new and intriguing holes in the eroded sandstone walls and finally finding a new way up the embankment to the first bench overhead. Ming dashed from the cover of one tree to another but Dave boldly walked out in the open with me so I scanned the skies overhead for the golden eagles who had just been patrolling for prey again yesterday. So far, so good but maybe they had a better sense of the weather than I since it started to rain. Nothing like a little rain to motivate cats, believe me. Before long, we were all at a trotting pace for the half mile trek back towards the rat. Once the boys recognized our standard trail down, it was obviously 'every man and cat for himself' and they left me behind to pick my own way down the treacherous shale around the yuccas. The boys looked a little mousse-spiky from the rain and I must have gotten a serious chill.

I was feeling pretty miserable by the time the generator came on and was able to check on a friend's blog. I felt a surge of warm energy run through my aching, shivering limbs as my eyes welled up with tears from laughter. It's obvious that this man has not lost the ability to tell a good story in 35 years. If you need a good laugh, check out his tale of May 5th at:
http://alphonsedamooseramblings.blogspot.com/
or just click on his link on the left side of this page.
Thanks, Alphonse, I sure needed that.

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Humor of the day (sent in by Alphonse himself)

Barbara Walters did a story on gender roles in Kabul, Afghanistan, several years before the Afghan conflict and noted that women customarily walked 5 paces behind their husbands.

She recently returned to Kabul and observed that women still walk behind their husbands. To her great consternation, despite the overthrow of the oppressive Taliban regime, the women now seem happy to maintain the old custom and walk even further back behind their husbands now.

She approached one of the Afghani women and asked, "Why do you now seem happy with the old custom that you once tried so desperately to change?"

The woman looked Ms. Walters straight in the eyes, and without hesitation, said, "Land mines."