POTR #46 Traditions

PEACE ON THE ROAD
Traditions
December 26, 2008

As I sit to write this it is the day after Christmas, which is traditionally "Boxing Day" in many places. I have really never understood the meaning behind the whole day. I have heard several explanations and I have a general idea what it is about. I think that to fully understand, it would be desirable to be English or to be associated a bit closer to the English traditions, or in other words to have been a child around people that celebrated the day. Growing up as an Eastern Kansas farm boy I was more apt to think of Boxing Day as a time when two pugilists met in a boxing ring. We are here in Mission, Texas where there are a lot of traditions that are also different from those of eastern Kansas or around Denver, Colorado. One of the things that interests me is the abundance of fireworks stands. There is a tradition of using a lot more pyrotechnics here than any where I have ever been. Back in Kansas a lot of people bought extra items near Independence Day and saved some till the New Year and shot them off then, but you could not purchase them anywhere. Well nowhere except on the black market and that was only if some person wanted to go the the effort of selling out of the trunk of their car. On Christmas Eve I was reading several articles in a local paper about the memories of some people and their childhood traditions. Because I enjoyed them so much I thought that I might share one of my own memories from sixty years ago. This was written a few years ago about the time from 1945-1955 (+/-).

CHRISTMAS
special times

A lot of families have traditions that are based upon something to do with their ethnic background. While we may have had such traditions I was never aware that that was the case, unless you wish to call having a decorated tree an ethnic tradition. When I was little Dad smoked a corncob pipe. He would carry the makings and his pipe with him wherever he went. It was from this that one of the most memorable traditions came into existence.

Every Christmas Eve we would get into the car and drive into Princeton to go to services at the First Methodist Church. The church would have a program of singing and pageants that were put on by the different Sunday School classes. Almost without fail some class would have a reenactment of the Nativity. There were several times I remember that I put on someone’s cast off brown bathrobe and played the part of a shepherd or one of the wise men visiting baby Jesus in the manger. Usually there was a soloist or a group singing traditional songs during the pageant. My sister Lauralea sang with groups at these sometimes. When I was in high school, and of course too big to be a shepherd or any thing like that I sang a solo a couple of times.

There was a big tree that was always set up and decorated at the front of the church and under it there was always sacks of candy, nuts and fruit for every kid in the church. There was something special about those sacks of goodies. I can’t ever remember a Christmas that those sacks did not contain one of the largest, sweetest, best-looking oranges that money could buy. I am sure that the oranges in the bag were a premium product that was not found in every grocery store in Ottawa. Oranges were somewhat more expensive than apples so there were purchased less often. But even at that I am sure that the folks bought oranges that were equal in quality except for perhaps the size. I was never limited to the amount of fruit I could eat, so I could have had more oranges than was in the sack any time at home if I wanted. And yet I always looked forward to receiving the traditional sack of goodies at church.

That bag had ribbon candy, hard candy with trees or snowmen or some other Christmas object down the middle, and a different colored candy, usually blue, red or green, on the outside. There was usually a candy that was called a circus peanut, and a kind of candy that had a hard outside and a soft inside. It seemed that there was a great variety. Of course what kind of Christmas goody bag was complete without several kinds of nuts. There were common peanuts in the shells. There were little round hazelnuts, and almonds with that funny looking shell that looked like a peach pit. The very hardest nut to crack was the Brazil nut. Most people called them nigger toes. I didn’t know the proper name for them until I was probably ten or twelve years old. The shell was very tough. If you hit it hard enough with a hammer to break the shell, you would probably crush the meat. Even if you were careful and didn’t crush it, the meat would cling to the shell so tight that it took a nut pick to extract the meat. But it was a good nut and worth the effort that it took to get at the insides. There would also be a few pecans in the bag. Some years the shells were a very dark red color and some years the shells were a tan color. I never knew the significance the different color indicated but either one of the colors had a very tasty nut inside. I liked them a lot.

There were other items in the bag some years, like some small inexpensive toy wrapped in paper. Perhaps like a puzzle with a little ball bearing that had to be maneuvered to a particular hole, without falling into a trap. Not infrequently there would be a large red delicious apple included in the bag. I always anticipated receiving the goody bag a lot. The anticipation of its receipt was greater than the value it contained. It’s wasn’t that there was no candy, nuts or fruit at home, the real value was where it came from and the fact that it was a party occasion. It was just part of the Christmas holiday and that made it fun. I suppose the fact that it was all mine to eat or to share as I wished made it more desirable.

As I said Dad smoked a pipe when I was young. He always had his pipe, a bag of Country Gentleman tobacco, and several wooden kitchen matches in his pockets. I don’t ever remember him forgetting to take them with him when he left the house. That is except on Christmas Eve. That night it seemed that he became very forgetful. We had to hurry around, get ready to go to church and get out the door so we would not be late for services at church. Dad would have warmed up the car so we did not get too cold going to Princeton. We’d get in the car and start down the lane. Sometimes we would get as far as a couple of car lengths past the big elm tree when Dad would remember that he had left his fixings in the house. In spite of the fact that he had been told to not forget them this year he would anyway. So he would have to go back into the house and get them. There were a few times that it took him a very long time to find the things he needed. I was never allowed to go back to the house and get them in spite of the fact that I knew exactly where he had left them. Also I know that there were times that he did not smoke the entire Christmas Eve evening, but he still had to have his pipe and tobacco. Finally Dad would have gotten the stuff in his pockets and we would go on to church. Usually church services started about 7:00 and ran till 9:30 or 10:00. Something had always happened at home while we were gone. Without fail while we were at church, Santa Claus would have slipped in and left presents for the entire family. So there was only one thing to do and that was to open the presents up and see what he had brought to us. We did that Christmas Eve instead of Christmas morning.

When we were in Kansas this last autumn I was lucky enough to have an opportunity to visit the Methodist church for a chicken noodle dinner. There were only a few people there that I recognized and a few others that I remembered after I heard their names. The church has not changed any that I can tell. I wanted some pictures of the inside of the church. While we were waiting for a place to sit and eat I was walking around taking pictures and speaking to some of the others that were waiting. To one fellow I said that the only thing missing was a large Christmas tree in the corner, and he said, "With bags of candy and nuts and a orange." So the tradition goes on in the church where I grew up. It was a good feeling to know that the kids of the church still get their bag of goodies at Christmas time.

While there are some things that I miss I think that I like things down here a bit better than where I have spent Christmas before. On Christmas Day our temperature reached 830F. We have had some cold days here, down in the upper thirties. But while those temperatures are cold here (at least to winter Texans) they are still a long ways above the temperatures that are not much farther north. I can look anywhere within this park and see citrus fruit ready to pick off the trees and blooming flowers. In times past there have been jokes about being from some state because you used both the heater and the AC on the same day. It works that way here, especially in a motor home. The metal sides pull the heat in during the sunny days, making the AC desirable, and then late in the evening or towards morning the temperature will require the heater to come on to take the chill out of the air.

There is certainly one thing that I hope does not become a tradition. While we were heading south a little earlier this year there was another motor home that caught fire and burnt in the campground where we were staying. Last year two people were burnt and were going to require substantial hospital time. At least this year there were no injuries. The owners of the motor home had been up late watching the election results come in, and then left to spend some time at a local casino. While they were at the casino the fire started, the fire trucks came and the fire was put out. The firemen finished their work and left after a few hours. The owners came home some time after that to a totally dark campground with no indication that anything had happened. They didn't have a clue of any problem until they drove into their parking spot. That had to be a real shock. Then on Christmas night there was a park model that caught fire here in this park. The report was that there were eight fire trucks and ambulances that responded to the fire. Again the people that lived in the park model were down at one of the recreation halls and not in the unit, so there was not any injury. Now the residents of the park model next to it have not arrived here from the north so they were not there to find out that their home received some damage to the outside of their unit. I suppose some one will call them and let them know.

This resort was built in the location of a former citrus orchard so there are lots of citrus trees throughout the whole place. There is about any kind of citrus fruit that a person can think of. Hurricane Dolly caused a lot of fruit to be lost but for sure not the majority. A neighbor asked me the other day if I wanted a large lemon. I said yes and we walked to a lot a couple streets away and I was amazed at what he showed me. In the picture below is a lemon tree in the front area of a site where no one is living this year. In the lots like that it is acceptable to pick a few fruits for personal consumption. Believe it or not those are lemons that are larger than most grapefruit. These are the size of five or six average grocery sized lemons. Right in the middle of this picture are two lemons right together. When I left there was only one. There are a lot of green lemons that will be ripening in the next few weeks.


LEMON TREE IN VACANT LOT IN BENTSEN GROVE RV PARK

I have made a promise to write of the dumb things that I have done or have happened to me. So here is the most recent occurrence. On the 12th of December I started to learn more respect for those people in our society that live all the time with a single hand. I started to go out in the evening on a errand on my bike but I managed to take a fall not more than fifteen foot from my door. I finished the errand and waited till the next day to find out what I had done to my hand. The x-ray that was taken was inconclusive, but the swelling was typical of injuries of the wrist that included a break or crack. So to error on the side of caution the Dr splinted my right hand. For ten days I had very little use of that hand. It is amazing how many of the everyday things that we do automatically become difficult when there is a hand out of commission. Things like putting on socks, or buttoning shirts or zipping the zipper on clothes. Writing one handed on the computer becomes very difficult, I have never learned to type with one finger and for sure not one finger on the left hand, maybe I could do it better with a finger on the right hand. After ten days I went to see another Dr for a follow up. More x-rays were taken. The Dr looked at the x-ray film and said, "We got lucky, there are not any broken bones." That was a good Christmas present. He said I would not need the splint. The swelling is down, the color of the bruise is about normal and every day there is improvement in movement. It in nice to take a normal shower and to be able to type or eat with some normality. But Erma is still doing the driving so far.

Till later this is Doug of
Peace On The Road

POTR #45 Ameican Stew Pot

PEACE ON THE ROAD
American Stew Pot
November 24, 2008

We are in Rockport, Texas for the rest of November. This is one of the places that we first visited nearly four years ago and we have been here several times since. We are camped in a forest of Live Oak trees. We are becoming familiar with the whole area. It is on a bay that attracts a great variety of birds. This is one of the few places that the whooping cranes winter. They stay away from people so it is necessary to go on a boat or to a wildlife refuge to see them. Between the cranes and the other more common birds and animals this is a fun place to visit. Telephone and Internet communication is very limited for us and that is a drawback to this location but one that we have been able to work around.

One of the big inspirations for writing these POTRs was a statement that I made to a good friend of mine back when I was about to quit working at Newmont. This lady, Susan R. said something to me like, "Send us an e-mail once in a while so we know what you are doing and what you are seeing." My reply back was that I would do just that and once in a while I would put in a bit of my philosophy too. Well it started small with just a few lines, say just a single paragraph, and has grown to several pages and some pictures. There has always been some of my philosophy hidden in the writings but this time I am going to put in a bit more. First I am going to say, "Susan, thank you. You actually gave me a gift which other coworkers enforced and none of you had any idea what it would come to mean to me."

THE SIGN OF FREEDOM TO MANY IMMIGRENTS ON THE EAST COAST

We have been on the road for a bit over four years now. In that time I have seen the Atlantic Ocean, the Pacific Ocean, the Gulf of Mexico, the Canadian border, the Mexican border, but never left the soil of the USA. Well maybe technically when I was on the Los Ebanos Ferry I might have stepped on Mexican soil, but it would have been brought on the ferry by the tires of cars, and I never stepped off the ferry. I have visited thirty seven states and my observations have confirmed in my mind some feelings that came to me some years ago. A famous quote that was made at about the time of the great immigration to the USA from all over the world through Ellis Island in the East and Sacramento in the West was made by a person that really did not understand what he was saying. His meaning was good but I think he used the wrong word. The quote is frequently used by many other people that do not really understand what the statement is saying. This country was called "The Great American Melting Pot." In the work that I have done over the years I have melted a good many things in melting pots. I have taken ores from mines and heated the materials till they were liquid and poured them into molds. I have melted ores to produce copper, gold, silver, steel, iron, antimony, glass, lead and other end products. They did not turn out like America. What happened was that when the molten material was poured an ingot was formed that separated into two parts. There was a light material called slag on the top and down at the bottom was the heavy valuable material. On the bottom was the gold, and silver or lead, or steel or whatever we were seeking. Upon one or two occasions there were three distinct and separate layers, but usually only two. We can divide America like that into the Red and the Blue states, the North and the South states, or the majority races and the minority races, or the rich and the poor, and there are a hundred other ways to divide the Americans. But a real melting pot divides into the part you want and the part you don't want. That is not the way I see America. It is not that simple and is not well defined into only two parts. It is much more complex and it is constantly changing.

LOADING CARS FROM MEXICO ONTO THE HAND OPERATED LOS EBANOS FERRY

Anybody that has ever cooked or eaten a stew knows it is different. Each ingredient contributes to the whole and each primarily remains separate. Take one part out and the whole changes add another ingredient and the whole changes again. A stew is a much more accurate description of America. We are a country of many different people that contribute to the whole and yet each people may remain separate. People from different nations came to America and then wrote home and told their friends to come to a land of opportunity. They formed towns or communities that were often nearly ethnically pure. They spoke the language of their youth and made homes and built churches that were like the ones that they left behind. They took on some of the "flavor" of their neighbors, and their children learned to be bilingual and spread their "flavor" outside their community. Then the grandchildren did it even more. Some of those communities still exist with only small changes in over two hundred years. We have come across places where the residents still speak, German, Swedish, Greek, Chinese, French, and several languages that I could not identify. The people that speak English speak many variations. There is Texan, New England, Californian, Midwest, and others. I have heard it said, "Welcome to America. Now speak our language, English. Now wait, English is the language of England. The language of America is the language that was spoken by the Indian, they are the original Americans. The rest of us are immigrants and we brought our language with us. If you think we speak English ask a person from London, England if they think we speak English and they will tell you that they don't know what it is that we speak. What we speak is AMERICAN. It is a language that has taken the best (and occasionally the worst) of many languages and made it unique to the USA. Not only should we be proud of it but we should be proud of its origin. I think that the immigrants also brought with them some of the very best values and skills that the world had to spare. The people who came here, a high percent of the time, were the people that were brave enough to face hardships and not only survive but thrive. There are more people legally coming into the US every year so our stew is changing. Again many of the ones coming in are adding value to our country with hard work and skills. Some of them are criminals, likely a similar percent as between 1492 and 1950 just to pick a broad range of years.

SAN FRANCISCO GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE IN THE SMOKE (try to imagine it is fog)

When I was a child my parents used the term "being in a stew" as a situation where a lot of things were happening, usually a part of it not being good. I think the U.S.A .has spent most of its existence "being in a stew" where along with all the good that happened there was a lot that was not good. From the time that the Europeans first set foot on soil that was to become the USA for the next five hundred years there was a tremendous advancement of technology and what we would call the social situation. But at every period there was exploitation and/or prosecution of some particular people. Who was exploited varied by the region and the year. But in the history of the United States at some time and some place the Indian, the Irish, the Chinese, the Japanese, the African, the Catholic, the Morman the Jew, the uneducated, the poor and probably any other group you can think of was persecuted and exploited. I do not believe that this is something that just happened in America, but rather something that has gone on since before the first man came down from the trees or wherever man first existed. On one hand it is too bad that man has that characteristic. Man is a competitive creature and that characteristic may have been necessary for survival. I am convinced that our competitiveness is part of why man has achieved his dominance above all other creatures and why the U.S.A. is as great as it is.

VIEW OF OF NIAGARA FALL WHICH IS BOTH IN THE U.S.A .AND CANADA

If things continue for a few more years as they have for the last four we will see a lot more of this great country and learn a lot more about the history of the various places we visit. I am often surprised when I come across something that was a footnote in my youth and I paid little attention and now I discover that I am standing where the event took place. The teachers tried to teach me but I resisted. Now I am trying to catch up on what they were teaching. We are often asked if we are going to travel to all fifty of the states. I don't think that there will ever be a road to Hawaii, but someday we may fly there. With the different reports that we hear about the roads to Alaska a visit there is still up for debate. We have heard the roads are very good and we have heard that the roads are very bad for hundred of miles. I suppose that like any road there are times of construction that a speed of over twenty miles an hour is speeding. I will promise that if and when we go there I will tell you about the condition of the roads. But until then I will tell you about some more of the places in the forty eight contiguous states where I can easily drive and hopefully I will be able to take some pictures that you will enjoy.

Till later this is Doug of
Peace On The Road

POTR #44 One More Week

PEACE ON THE ROAD
One More Week
October 10, 2008

One of the things that I want out of my travels around the country is to see, to do, to experience, and feel new things. This summer I have done all of those things. The only problem is that they have not been the type that I would call desirable. Earlier I told you about delays of about five weeks in California. Now I will be able to tell you about a delay of even longer here in Colorado. My mother in law had to undergo "a procedure." At least that is what some of the nurses call it. The rest of us call it a mastectomy for cancer. She was in the hospital only overnight and seemed to be doing great. Erma must have been jealous because three days later she developed pneumonia. She spent two nights in a different hospital. I was very fortunate to stay healthy and was able to care for them at home. After three weeks Helen developed a little redness in the incision area and was put on antibiotics. On the day we were going to get back on the road the redness was very pronounced. She was back in the hospital that afternoon on heavy antibiotics and spent a couple weeks in a rehab so that the antibiotics could continue. We could delay traveling without any problems. This is a summer that I have said we can stay "One More Week" at least a dozen times. We are hoping that soon we will be able to say that our health is okay and our mechanical problems are fixed and we see this area in the rear view mirror.

ABANDONED MILL BUILDING NEAR ALMA, COLORADO

In the back country of Colorado, along the unpaved roads, and perhaps up a high clearance vehicle trail is often a reminder of the history that happened here. Everyone has heard of the '49ers that were in the gold rush to California. This overshadowed the '59ers that stampeded to Colorado. "Pikes Peak or Bust." is the slogan that is remembered from that year, after gold was discovered in 1858 in a creek near Denver. As gold was located in different areas there were several mini-gold rushes into Colorado. The last major gold rush in the lower 48 states was to the Cripple Creek and Victor mining district in 1893. Many areas were stripped of all timber to be used as building material or as firewood to run steam boilers. Today most of the old trees in the mining areas are about a hundred years. In abandoned mill buildings like this one there is often equipment that gives an indication of how the gold and silver was extracted from the ore. There are also locations that only the foundations of buildings are left to tell of the efforts of the miners and their sparse living conditions. Most of the small mining towns around that once were very up to date, by the standards of the time, are gone or have been changed so much that the history they knew is lost to condominiums and paved roads. Very near this mill on an extremely steep slope are other mining structures that are mind boggling. The average hiker would have a very difficult time carrying a backpack up to it and the miners of the late 1800's were able to build a couple 30x70 foot (estimated) buildings and fill them with tons of equipment to process ore and then have them survive the ravages of a hundred years of weathering. I will never cease to be amazed by the abilities of our ancestors. I wonder how well we would do if transported to that time.

AUTUMN COLORS NEAR THE GHOST TOWN OF ST. ELMO

Since I have been in Colorado for many years and I have spent a couple autumns following the seasonal change of color from the north to the south I am asked where the best autumn colors can be found. "Are the best ones in Colorado or are those along the east coast the best?" That is one of those questions that does not have an absolute answer. With the hardwood trees of many kinds in the forests that are in the mountains and valleys of the East there is a surprising variety of color. There is a mixture of shades of color that range from from orange-brown to reddish-purple. Many hillsides have a complex pattern of all the colors among the greens that have not yet changed. It looks like a giant artist has used the slopes to clean his brushes. On the other hand Colorado has brilliant yellows that cover the whole hillside like a giant cloth woven from gold threads. So the real answer has to be found within your individual preference. Either type of fall color will evoke a feeling of awe when the road you are traveling turns around a corner and suddenly there is a new hillside or valley laid out before you in all its glory. I have run into a situation that seems to universal wherever I happen to be. I will almost without fail talk to the local people about the color and hear this, "You should have been here last year. The colors were so much better." About the only exception to that statement has been when I should have been there two years before. I guess that I need to travel everywhere every years. In fact that sounds like a good idea to me. All I have to do is figure out how to accomplish the task.

HANGING LAKE NEAR GLENWOOD SPRINGS

Along I-70 in Glenwood Canyon there is a trail that heads up along the side of Dead Horse Creek that is very popular to hikers of Colorado and tourists. The trail is 1.2 miles in length and rises a thousand and twenty foot. At the end of the trail is a hanging lake. It was formed when limestone dissolved by the stream was deposited on rocks and/or logs to form a very fragile dam of travertine. The numerous small falls that go into the lake, the trout in the lake and the surrounding cliffs make it a beautiful place to visit. Just above the lake a few hundred feet further at the end of the trail is a cliff that has a hole in it that the majority of the stream water flows through. It is called spouting rock. It too is an area of unexcelled beauty. There is an area that people can go behind the falls, which is a neat thing to do. During the winter the water of the falls freezes into a hollow column that may at times reach entirely to the cliff opening which is at least forty foot high. In the summer the hike takes about an hour, and of course in winter it takes a bit longer. It is worth the time and effort no matter the time of year. It is also worthwhile to take a lot longer and enjoy the sound of the stream, the birds and the wind in the trees. The views are spectacular in every season and especially during the autumn.

Our plan again is to leave Colorado next Thursday and go to South Dakota and then work our way back to Mission Texas for the winter. We will not be there until the first of December.

Till later this is Doug of
Peace On The Road

POTR #43 Colorado times

PEACE ON THE ROAD
Colorado Times
August 26, 2008

It is logical for people to ask someone like me where I like the best. I always give the same answer. There is no one place that I would call the best because every place we have been has great places. Sure a lot of that feeling comes out of somewhere within me. But like everything else there are certain places that float a little higher in the ranks of desirability. When I have been around the oceans it has been great. In the winter I have to say that southern Texas ranks high, it had better because I seem to be spending winters there. There were places in Florida, Arizona, New York, and many other states that I would go back to in a heartbeat. Colorado has got to be ranked very high. Part of that is due to fact that I spent over forty years here and did not see everything that I wanted to see. While this year I have not seen a lot of the things I missed in the past, I have had some special days.

EARLY AUTUMN SNOW COVERED PEAKS FROM HOOSIER PASS

This year has been unusual here, the weather went from a record number of days of over ninety degrees to days that set record lows for the high of the day. The high country in Colorado has already had snow this year. The snow did not last long as the days returned to more normal temperatures. But in the wake of the snow storms there was much beauty. It does not matter when you look at the high country there is great beauty that has been enjoyed by the people that have lived here. The Indian tribes were the first to enjoy the beauty for thousands of years. They shared with the Spanish for a couple hundred years, and then the American who had started from Europe replaced them. One of the biggest signs of the Indian that lived here is the pueblos in southern Colorado. Some of the pueblos have been occupied for over five hundred years. The Spanish did not leave such large signs of their activities. I think perhaps their biggest contribution can be found in the names that are to be found everywhere. Spanish names in Colorado are so common that many people do not even know that they are Spanish. There are a couple places in Colorado that have a site of Spanish origin that are unknown by most people. I know of one personally and another through the Internet. Because I worked in mining research for many years I am interested in how minerals were extracted in the past. The Spanish came to Colorado seeking gold and silver. They needed to crush mineral bearing rocks and they did not have electricity to run motors to do the job. The work had to be done by hand or by the harnessed power of animals. On of their ways to harness horse power was to build an arrastre. A large flattish rock was selected near a stream. A hole was drilled into the rock to provide a center pivot point. A pole was placed across the rock with either one or two large boulders attached to it by a chain. The pole was pivoted at the center point with the boulder(s) two or three foot away from the pivot. Further out a mule was harnessed to the pole. As the mule walked a circle around on the rock it would pull the boulder(s) across the surface of the rock. In time a groove would be worn into the rock and the boulder(s) would be worn down to fit the groove. Mineral bearing ore would be placed in the groove where the heavy boulders would crush it to sand and release the gold and silver. Water from the stream would wash the lighter sand away leaving the heavy sands which would contain the gold and silver. It had to be an incredibly labor intensive operation. I have operated similar equipment that used steel wheels instead of boulders and operated at forty to sixty rpm. To me it was very inefficient so it really is hard to imagine the same thing being done at one to three rpm. Perhaps the Spanish ground softer ores than I was crushing so it worked better for them. By the looks of the Spanish arrastre in Buckskin Gulch near Alma it must have been in use a long time.

SPANISH ARRASTRE IN BUCKSIN GULCH NEAR ALMA

This such an interesting area. Take the one road and there is the Spanish arrastre and a bit further up is a large mill building from the twenties that is still in good shape. To many people it is just an old building, but to me it is a monument to the ingenuity and tenacity of the early miner. I am unsure that the man living today would be able to do what the "old timers" were able to do. I am sure that the modern mindset would be totally different from that of eighty to a hundred years ago. Further up the same road is an area of Pinion Pine of great age. Growing at high altitude in harsh conditions has produced trees of great gnarled beauty. And still farther up, the road ends on top of one of Colorado's fifty-two 14,000 foot tall peaks. As it is from all fifty-two peaks the view is spectacular. Some of the peaks have to be climbed with rope, pitons, and technical skills, but some can be hiked on gentle trails, (if any trail at 14,000 foot is gentle) and a few can be driven up in a car. One that can be driven up has probably been heard of by most people, Pikes Peak.

VIEW FROM THE TOP OF THE 14,000 FOOT MOUNT HARVARD

If a different fork in the road is taken Mosquito Pass lies ahead. It is the highest continuous road in the US. Trail Ridge Road a ways to the north is the highest continuous paved road in the US. Mosquito Pass reaches an altitude of 13,185 foot. It would only have to be 815 foot higher to reach the magic height of 14,000. Back in the 1870's it was the shortest route between Fairplay and Leadville, Colorado. A lot of traffic went both ways back then and a lot of people died during the winter crossings. It got its name from a town that was along the way. The people could not decide upon a name for the town until someone found a squashed mosquito in the city record books during a town meeting. Even then no one knew how to spell the word. So the town was called Musquito. Nothing is left today except the pass itself. The world news came to Leadville through the telegraph lines that went from Denver to Fairplay and over the top of Mosquito Pass. If the line was damaged the people of Leadville went to fix the line no matter how bad the storms were that were raging on the pass. In 1889 the first telephone line was run over the pass. The telephone was patented in 1876, so Leadville had all the newest technology. And it all came over Mosquito Pass. Today it is a 4WD road.

At a much lower altitude there is a lot of activity in nature. At this time of the year there is nothing serious that is going on but it is time for practice for the real fights that will be happening in about a month or perhaps less. The Elk have not begun to fight but they are sparring to determine roughly what their status in the herds will be. It is also the time to build up their muscles for the efforts to come soon. This pair tussled for a short time and then were shortly grazing side by side. This time it was just for the fun. Later in the fall we have seen elk a quarter mile away that were putting all their strength into a battle until one of them gave up and ran away as fast as he could. It was amazing to us how loud the sounds of their breathing was at that substantial distance. And of course the sound of antler to antler was even louder. We have had reports that they like to settle some of their disagreements on the local golf course greens. You can bet that the course owners would like them to go elsewhere and not do the damage to the greens. On the other hand the tourist flock to the mountain meadows just hoping that the elk will come out early to do their fighting and put on a good show to photograph. But often a lot of the action happens after it is too dark for people to see.

TUSSLING ELK IN ROCKY MOUNTAIN NATIONAL PARK

We are in a holding pattern here in Colorado. We do not know how long we will be here or how the rest of our time will be spent. We have to accomplish some things before we can move anywhere. In the meantime I will set out some bird seed and make life a bit easier for two or three dozen sparrows, a few turtle doves and some other birds that have discovered my generosity and the pan of seed. In this camp we also have more rabbits than we have seen anywhere. They are fun to have around. They are often just a few feet from the door when we go out and do not run very far, sometimes not at all.

Till later this is Doug of
Peace On The Road

POTR #42 California Thoughts

PEACE ON THE ROAD
California Thoughts
July 21, 2008

By the time I finish writing this and send it out we may be in Denver or at least close. We will have taken a week to drive in short hops from Sacramento. We don't drive far any day and try to not drive on Sunday. As we leave California and head to other places I have to tell you that it has been a mixed bag and not exactly as I had hoped it to be. We have definitely had some firsts. To have a first is not something new when you are traveling as much as we do, but they are not always so noticeably definable. I think that we have had to change our schedule at least five times. To be sure we do not normally have a specific schedule more than a couple weeks ahead and often not sooner than two days. So when suddenly it is necessary to change the two day schedule by a week or more it is noticeable. But on the good side I have had at least one lifetime firsts. I grew up on a farm where there were many Northern Bobwhite Quail. There were many times that I flushed a covey and was so startled that I nearly lost it. I never hunted them but it sure was fun to see them in the wild. When I was in Arizona I was excited by seeing the first Gambrel's quail I had ever seen and then later a covey of perhaps ten or more. But in leaving California I saw the first baby quail of any kind that I had ever seen. As we were leaving a camp one morning there were five adult Gambrel's quail right at the edge of the road and as I approached I saw at least three tiny babies heading away from the road under a camper with the adults. At most they were about a third the size of a sparrow. Had circumstances been different I could have watched them for a long length of time instead of just a few seconds. As you know some of life's special moments last only a few seconds and some last longer.

THE GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE IN 1978

The last winter that we spent in Florida was one in which it was not uncommon to see several columns of smoke at any time. They were burning the sugar cane fields. The smoke would never last very long. As you have heard on the news California has had over two thousand forest fires fires so far this year. We were lucky to have stayed out of the smoke most of the time but it was always close. Usually it was close enough that when we wanted to go see some sight there was the question, "Do we want to go and not see well and take pictures that look like they were taken in fog or stay home?" Often the answer was to stay out of the pollution. When we were in Sacramento we did not fare so well. There was a day that the smoke was thick enough to block out the sun by 4:00. Most days it made for very colorful sunsets. The foreground was nothing special but the sunset was. In spite of the smoke we did go see the Golden Gate Bridge. With a bit of imagination and the ability to ignore the smell of smoke in the air it was possible to believe that the bridge was in the fog. However I chose to send you a picture that I took in 1978, the only other time I have been there. The girl is my daughter.

Serious proposals for the bridge began in 1917, but many factors delayed its start until 1933. In 1937 when the bridge was completed after delays caused by the stock market crash in 1929 it was the longest suspension bridge in the world. Today it is the second longest in the US, shorter only to the Verranzano-Narrows bridge in New York and ninth longest in the world. There was great opposition to the building of the bridge by the Southern Pacific Railroad who operated a ferry across the bay. It was also opposed by the US Department of War because they thought it would interfere with ship traffic. On an average day there are 120,000 vehicles that cross the bridge. Tolls are only collected from the south bound traffic and average $5.00 each. That means the original cost of 35 million could be paid today within four months. But of course the cost of maintainence is a bit higher today.

RIDER OF THE PONY EXPRESS

Sacramento is a special place to me for a couple reasons even though I have never been there before this summer. First of all I am fascinated by steam trains and by the transcontinental railroad. At 12:47 on May 10th, 1869 the first transcontinental railroad was declared complete at Promontory Summit by the driving of the golden spike. In fact it was in Strasburg. Colorado in 1870 that the Denver extension of the Kansas Pacific completed the first coast to coast railroad, but even then it was not a single rail. The first seamless railway was completed in 1872 when a rail bridge was built across the Missouri River eliminating the river ferry. Still Sacramento was the terminus of the Southern Pacific railroad which built eastward. Sacramento was also the western terminus for Pony Express from April 1860 to October 1861. Even though it only operated eighteen months it is so embedded into the romance of American Western history that it appears to have operated for fifty to a hundred years. In 1845 it took six months to get a letter from the east to the west coast. In 1860 the Butterfield Stage line could deliver a letter in twenty-five days from St. Louis provided there were no winter storms. The Pony Express cut that time to ten days even through snow storms. The pony express operated 190 relay stations with 50 riders and 500 horses. The riders could not weigh over 125 pounds and they could carry 20 pounds of mail and 20 pounds of supplies, including a pistols and rifle or second pistol, a bible, a knife, a water sack, and a horn to alert the next station to have a fresh horse in position. Eventually all but one pistol and the water sack was eliminated to cut down on weight. Horses were changed every ten miles and the riders changed every 75 to 100 miles. The eastern terminus of the pony express was St. Joseph, Missouri. Sometime perhaps I can send you a picture of the Barns there.

CANYONS, MESAS AND ROCK FORMATIONS OF EASTERN UTAH

I have gone from Denver to Salt Lake City several times over the years but I had a surprise today when I drove along I-70. I was unaware that so many canyons, mesas, buttes and rock formations were along the highway. I finally realized that I have gone by way of Wyoming or angled north when we reached Green River, Utah and never went straight through on I-70. The colors that are seen are so varied and change with the movement of the sun. Around every curve is a different canyon or different rock formation that is a treat to the eye. Several million years ago this was an ocean bottom where the silt built to great depths which was converted to siltstone and sandstone. The area was uplifted by the mountain building process and erosion by water and wind created an area of great beauty. It is hard to believe that this whole area will be eroded away in a few more million years. I guess the best advice that I can give you is to see it soon or it may disappear.

Till later this is Doug of
Peace On The Road

POTR #41 Adjusted Plans

PEACE ON THE ROAD
Adjusted Plans
June 22, 2008

POTR #40 Stark Contrasts

PEACE ON THE ROAD
Stark Contrasts
May 15, 2008

One of the things that I do while I am traveling around is to try to imagine what life would have been a hundred or two hundred years ago in the particular area where I happen to be. The fact that I am sure that I fail in every respect does not stop my imagination from trying. Every once in a while I get a small insight into the lives of people in the past. Usually that happens unexpectedly.

When we have been in Tombstone there has always been the question of why Wyatt Earp (or anybody for that matter) went there in the first place. The town is located out in a area that barely has enough green to feed anything. In fact the one jack rabbit that we saw was carrying a canteen and a lunch box. It turns out that Earp went there to establish a freight/stage line in the silver boom town, but found that there were already two companies when he arrived. Wyatt and his brothers staked mining claims and worked at various jobs, for three months he was a deputy sheriff for Pima county which includes Tombstone. Wyatt Earp is very famous for events that happened at the OK Corral in Tombstone, AZ. He is also known as a marshal in Dodge City, KS and Wichita, KS. These events in his life occurred over a period of about five years of his life. Most of his career was spent as a saloon keeper and a mining investor or mine operator. In 1906 he and his wife staked claims for gold and copper mines in the community of Drennan, CA. They spent the winters for the next two decades working his claims. When Wyatt Earp died in 1929 the community renamed itself "Earp" to honor him. I still wonder how people managed to eek out a living in that country.

BLOOMING SAGUARO NEAR CASA GRANDE, ARIZONA

The saguaro to me is one of natures very amazing creations. To look at a plant and have a feeling that it is somehow intelligent and has a purpose that is beyond just surviving is a real stretch of the imagination. But when I see a hillside that is populated with hundreds of plants that look like they are marching down the slope like an army it is hard to think of them as simply plants. The saguaro very often begins life in a location where it is sheltered by a "nurse plant" which protects it from the extreme temperature differences when it is small. Once established it grows about an inch per year. At seventy five to a hundred years it starts putting out the characteristic arms. It is only at the ends of those arms that it produces flowers which are pollinated by bees, bats and possibly doves. The flowers look so delicate and yet they are growing on a plant that is anything but delicate to those that might get careless around it.

ARIZONA SUNSET

Every place that we have been has had beautiful sunsets. But somehow seeing a sunset that silhouettes a saguaro is extra special. In a way it seems to define Arizona. It is amazing to me that one area of the desert can be covered so very thickly with barrel cactus, chollo cactus, ocotillo, and many other varieties of cactus and a mile away there seems to be no cactus at all. The contrast between the two area has to be caused by a combination of soil type, precipitation amount and other factors. Something that I did not know is that cactus are native only to North and South America and the West Indies. There is one cactus in Africa that is believed to have originated in the Americas about 10,000 years ago. The prickly pear cactus was taken to Australia in the 19th century to provide natural living fences and it adapted so well that it has made thousands of square miles of farmland unproductive.

We just left Ehrenburg, AZ, about three miles or so from Blythe, CA. The Colorado river was only about a hundred yards to the rear of our motor home. When we went in there the people that checked us in seemed to be so pleased that we would be close to the river and have a beautiful view. I will agree that the view of the river was special. All we had to do was go outside and walk to the back of the motor home. The river was a surprisingly blue color. The water was so clear that the bottom of the river was very easy to see. On the weekend there have been several watercraft that have been using the river. It would be nice to watch the water run by and watch the boats but there is a problem. All the sites are back in, so for a motor home that means that the large windows for looking out are pointed away from the river because our main window is the windshield. If we had a fifth wheel the back of the trailer would be a large window and we could sit and watch the river and it's activity. I have found it humorous that so many place are so proud of their views and then set up the sites so that many of the guests cannot see the view. There is a lot of irrigated land along the Colorado River. The irrigated land is so green and right across the road where there is no irrigation is land that only is growing sage brush and cactus. The contrast between the two is so stark that it is hard to believe. It really shows how the addition of water can transform the landscape. In the trip that we took through the area I believe that I saw more alfalfa growing and in huge bales than I have seen in my total collective life. I never dreamed that Arizona and California produced as much hay as it obviously does.

BLOSSOMS ON ONE OF THE MANY VARIETIES OF PRICKLY PEAR CACTUS

I grew up being familiar with prickly pear cactus having yellow blooms and many short spines. Here red, pink, purple, and yellow blooms can be found with any thing from almost no spines to spines almost like hair in abundance. The desert is a harsh environment where the plants have developed ways to protect themselves and on the other hand the desert animals have learned to utilize those protective devices for themselves. A lot birds seem to nest in the saguaro and in other thorny growth. In looking at some of the nests I can believe that no predator would even consider trying to get past the thorns to make a meal of the eggs or the young birds. Also there is a bird that will catch insects and uses the cactus as a cache for its catch like we would use a pantry.

We left an area where we were surrounded by desert, at 95-98 degrees every day with barely a cloud in the sky. Now we are up in the mountains above Los Angeles where for two days the temp has been 51 degrees, with thick fog during the day and night. This is such a stark contrast to that which we have been experiencing for several weeks. That is part of the reason to travel I guess.

Till later this is Doug of
Peace On The Road

POTR #39 Moving North

PEACE ON THE ROAD
Moving North
April 10, 2008

With the onset of April we have started our move to parts of the country that will be a little less hot. It seems a bit odd to be saying that when the objective for the last four month has been to stay where it was not cool. In Mission, Texas a day that was in the eighties was not uncommon for the last three months. There was even one day that the thermometer on the Jeep registered 1080F. Even when I am wanting to stay away the freezing temperatures and snow that is a bit on the high side. We have not moved very far north so far but we are on the move. Our speed depends somewhat on the weather.

Someone told me that I had gone to the birds. In a lot of ways I would say that is a correct statement. I am more than happy to photograph any animal, big or small, or any pretty flower, or any scene that stimulates my imagination. I have also been known to photograph spiders, caterpillars and other tiny creatures. Here in Rockport there are a lot birds that get their food from the ocean or ponds or other water bodies so mostly I photograph birds. There are a fair number of Roseate Spoonbills at certain times of the year. They are also known to some as Texas Flamingos. Texas does not have any native flamingos. By any name these birds are beautiful whether they are in flight or feeding in the water.

ROSEATE SPOONBILLS DECORATE A TEXAS SALT FLAT NEAR ROCKPORT

During my lifetime I have had to revise my definition of certain words as I learned more or had a new experience. As an example, my parents farm was big until I knew about larger farms. It also had big trees until I saw the California Redwoods. There are other words that I have changed my mind about also. I was struck the other day with the fact that the meaning of "home" has made a bigger change than I realized until that day. I think that home will always be a little town in Kansas called Princeton. That was the place that I spent my youth and went from a baby to a young man. I only spent eighteen years there but it was the only place I knew as home. While I have not lived there for nearly fifty years it will always stay home in my mind. Unless I should delve into the changes that have taken place there. If I did that I might start wondering when Princeton disappeared. Living and working in Colorado for forty two years and having a family there made it my home for the greatest part of my life, and it will stay that for a long time in my mind. When I left Mission, Texas I felt a bit like I was leaving home on vacation. I think perhaps that feeling was enhanced by the fact that some friends of ours were going with us for a few days at our first stop. But when I got into Rockport I felt a bit like I was coming home a from a vacation. I have had the privilege many times of being a tour guide for people that came to Colorado on vacation and wanted to see the sights. The same thing had happened a couple times in Princeton and then here in Rockport I planned to show the high points of the area to friends. To be sure I tell people that home is where I turn off the ignition. My home has a foundation of six rubber tires instead of concrete. One thing that I has observed over the years is that as many people age their world or their homes become smaller. I can say that about me also. My first home that I owned was a trailer house that was smaller than my motorhome. But I share the larger motorhome with two other people and a cat, whereas I had the trailer house all to myself. Well at least until I got married and then wanted a cat. While the square footage that would be my fair share may be smaller than it has ever been thus far in my life, my front and back yard has expanded to include most of the United States. So in a way I have a home in Kansas, Colorado, Texas, New York, and maybe in another state or two, or I will have. I doubt that South Dakota will ever become home except for the official designation on my drivers license and a postal mail box.

A WHITE PELICAN NEAR CORPUS CHRISTI, TEXAS

If there is any bird that is a throwback to prehistoric times it has to be the pelican. Especially the brown pelican. I love to watch them come flying along the dunes of the beach catching the wind and traveling with only the minimum wing movement or gliding across the ocean just a few inches above the waves, But no matter how graceful they seem to be in flight I cannot get away from thinking that a pterodactyl or a least its modern relative is flying towards me. I have never seen any scientific writings that would indicate that they actually may have existed a few million years ago. I have read that the alligator has been unchanged for that long. So why not a bird? The feeding habits of the brown and white pelican are so different for birds that are so similar that it is surprising. The brown will be flying along fifteen or twenty foot above the water and suddenly fold its wings and plunge into the water to catch a fish. Several of the white pelicans will form a circle in the water and work together like a net to surround fish and feed with their beaks below the waterline like scoops. Neither one is adverse to taking advantage of the fish cleaning stations and the free food that is available there. They are a lot of fun to watch, almost as much fun as feeding the seagulls.


PURPLE WINE CUPS SPRING FLOWERS OF TEXAS

While some places are still getting winter snows and other places are having so much rain that floods are happening the spring flowers here in southern Texas are fighting each other for room to display their beauty to the world. It is impossible to look anywhere and not see some kind of bright flower. Some of them are extremely small and some are quite large. One very beautiful flower that seems to like the lawns of the city is the wine cup. It is a cup shape that is about the size of a quarter. It seems that when they grow there are thousands of them. In a way they rather remind me of the dandy lions that try to take over the lawns in Colorado. I don't know if people here try to kill them out like most people do the dandy lions or if they just let them grow and the blooming season is over in a short length of time and them they disappear. I enjoy seeing a yard covered with the purple blooms.

At the current time we do not have any specific plans for the summer months. There are several places that are vying for us to spend time. I think that we will head towards the west. It is going to be necessary to go to South Dakota at the end of summer to renew my drivers license in person. I don't really want to go there but as far as we can tell there is not another reasonable choice

Until Later This is Doug Of
Peace On The Road

POTR #38 Not Enough Time

PEACE ON THE ROAD
Not Enough Time
March 5 , 2008

It has been interesting to note this year that a frequent subject of conversation between the residents here in Bentsen Grove while similar has a rather different flavor than it was last year. During the winter of 2006-2007 I would hear people talking about how much snow there was where their summer home was located. There were many that would talk about several feet of snow being reported to them by their neighbors. This year there has not been so much talk about the depth of snow but there has been more talk about the cold temperatures in the northern states. Not once have I heard anyone saying that they would rather be in the cold temperatures instead of being in Texas. We have had many days in the seventies and eighties and some that were very close to one hundred degrees. I will admit that the real hot days are a bit higher than we really would like to have, but on the other hand it is a whole lot better than temperatures below freezing.

A FLOCK OF WINTER TEXANS

We enjoy going to see the evening gathering of another kind of Winter Texan. There is a certain intersection in Mission that these small green parrots or “Green Parakeets” gather every evening. This is a Mexican variety that is only found in the USA in the extreme south. There are several hundred that use the intersection as a staging area before they select their tree for the nights roost. When they are together there is such a cacophony of chirps, squeals and chatter that it is actually hard on the ears. When we have gone to see them before we had been unsure of where they spent the night. By following the general flight of several groups of the birds we determined that there was a single row of trees where most would spent the night. Even after dark the birds were making so much noise in the trees that ear plugs would have been nice. We speculated that a lot of noise would continue through all the night because of the adjacent lights. We were mostly wrong in that guess. We went to eat a few blocks away from the trees. After we finished eating we drove back to the trees and there was almost no sounds coming from the birds. As we looked into the trees we could see that at least some were watching us. The antics of the parakeets is so much fun to watch. They often hang upside down or hang by one foot and tussle with each other. Another thing that is very interesting is that in many areas, including this intersection, the Great Tailed Grackle gather by the thousands. It is as if there is a signal that is sent out and large flocks of Grackles will fly in to land on the power lines. The lines will get so filled that there is barely room for another bird to land. Then just as the darkness gets to a certain level the lines will quickly become bare as they all leave the open and head for shelter in the trees for the night. It is really quite a pleasure to be in the area and watch what happens.

THE BENTSEN GROVE LINE DANCING GROUP

I have mentioned that Erma and I have been doing line dancing. This is not all the group but it is the most of them. We have danced in front of the residents of the the RV Resort and also we have gone to a local adult day care center and danced for the residents there. Last year Erma started taking the line dancing classes and I stayed home to work on the computer or do other things. One day I went to take some pictures of Erma doing the dances. Just for fun Erma suggested that I make a calendar with pictures of the dancers. I did and it was fun to make. Then the instructor, Roger, asked me if I could burn some songs to a CD so that people in the class could have music to practice with at home. I had never done anything like that but I was willing to try. I was able to do it easily and I made something like thirty copies of the music. Next I was asked if I could take a picture of the class so that they could have a “Class Picture.” Of course I could do that and also make prints for the class members on my printer at home. I enjoy doing new things with the camera and the computer, and these were all new things that were based on skills that I had used in the past, but had not used just that way. This all seemed innocent enough and also it seemed like a nice thing to do for other people. What I did not know was that it was also a hook to get me into the class to learn how to line dance. Almost before I knew it I was trying to learn the steps. Roger even came over to where I was playing ping-pong and gave me individual instruction to help me get caught up. I did not catch up in three weeks to the point that Erma had gotten in a bit over two months but that was not because Roger did not do all he could do for me. This year I have learned a lot and Erma has really gotten good. I have had several different emotions about taking the class. They have alternated between, “What am I doing here? and “This is rather fun.” A lot of it has to do with how well I was able to learn the dance steps and how tired I was. This year I have made more music CDs, another calendar and have printed off a bunch of “class pictures.” Here again I was able to use my camera in a way that I had only played with until now. I set up the camera to take a picture every few seconds until it had taken ten pictures, and then had it take another ten pictures. That is one of the reasons that I am on the front row with Erma and Helen. I had to set the camera and then get into position for the pictures. The first picture in each series was of my back I could not get set before the first picture was taken. Out of the other eighteen pictures I was able to select the very best. Helen does not dance but she enjoys watching the class and I think that the other people think of her as a part of the class. There were several that said she had to be included in the picture and Roger bought the shirt that she is wearing. I think that we will dance a couple more times at the day care center and most likely at least once more at the the park general meeting.

There have been several people that have come down here to Bentsen Grove to spend a month and then have said to us that it was not enough time. Next year they are planning to come back for a longer time. It is funny how this place has the ability to draw people into the activities and new friendships. I have met several people that came for a week and have returned for ten or twenty years, even buying a permanent structure. I never expected to see people buying different homes within a park and moving around like they do. While it works well for them I really cannot see myself ever doing that, all these people have summer homes. I don't have a home that does not have wheels or a steering wheel.

GREEN JAYS IN ANZALDUAS PARK

The way that things have worked out here in Mission we have not gone to the local parks as often as we thought we would or even should. However the few times that we have gone to a park has been rewarding. These Green Jays were two of about eight that had gathered to snatch a free meal from a couple having a picnic. The couple said they were reminded of the scenes from Alfred Hitchcock's, The Birds. This park is just across the river from Mexico. It is a bit strange to stand on the river bank and know that on the other side, a very short distance away, is a different country. There are boat ramps on both sides of the river and fishermen that wade out into the river from both sides. On the Mexican side it appears that there is a large park similar to the US side. One thing I have not seen is any personnel from the border patrol, at least none that I was sure about. But I bet there were some not far away.

Till Later, This Is Doug Of
Peace On The Road