Suzy Says

Dramatic vistas

Dateline: Indian Bread Rocks, coordinates 32.239136 / 109.50086, elevation 4,108

While we were happy to be on the road again, it was hard to leave the Kofa Wildlife refuge. Like the Mojave Preserve we have unfinished business there. We drove to Yuma to get groceries, water and fuel and got drive through at In and Out for the first time in well over a year! Fridge, gas tank and tummies filled, we headed out towards some petroglyphs called the Painted Rocks.

On the road out to the petroglyphs, there was a solar power plant with trough mirrors that super heat molten, liquid salts and them use them to make steam to run a turbine. They do it this way because they can put the molten salts in an insulated container to use when the sun is no longer shining. It is like a battery in a way with the energy stored as heat.

The petroglyphs were simply astounding:

By far the most I have seen in one place, the rocks here are covered in them. The rocks seem to have a fairly thin dark layer on the outside and are much lighter in color underneath this layer. This is why the ancients chose these rocks to put their art and messages on because if you chip or scratch through the dark layer you expose the lighter layer and the contrast makes the design easy to see. You cannot help but wonder what was going through their minds and what they meant the designs to mean. While it was a long time ago, people then were the same as they are now, so what were these intelligent artisans trying to say?

As it got dark and I was setting up the antenna there was a light sprinkle of rain. A funny thing about a light rain in the desert is that you can stay out in it and never get wet! The air is so dry that the wind is like a blow dryer. You can feel the rain evaporating as it hits you. We had dinner and then it began to rain a little more. A half inch or so must have fallen during the night and yet everything was still pretty much dry in the morning, the parched desert drinking it up as fast as it fell.

In the morning we packed up and moved out. We had decided to go check out the Saguaro National Park. It has the most varied and lush vegetation I have ever seen in the desert. Ironwood trees, palo verde, more types of cholla than I knew existed and of course and absolute forest of saguaro. Usually in the desert plants are placed pretty far apart as there just isn’t enough water and nutrients to support more. This is obviously not the case in this very special place as the vegetation is almost as dense as a forest.

Speaking of cholla cactus, holy cow are there a bunch of different types here, some of which we had never met before. There is the stag horn cholla, which does indeed resemble the horns of a stag. There is the chain fruit cholla which is kind of bumpy and apparently has little mini grape like fruits after it flowers. Then we saw the pencil cholla which as the name implies has very thin, pencil like growth. While their outward appearance is very different you can tell they are all cholla and the one thing they all have in common is their viscous stickers!

Going on a tip from a friend we decided to go to Indian Bread Rocks. This is just south of the town of Bowie, AZ. It is the kind of obscure place that only the true desert dogs tend to find. It is BLM land so dispersed camping is fine. When we arrived, we found that there were a few other people here. They are all desert dogs. As we were making dinner (delicious frittata) Rio suddenly cocked her ear and said that she thought she heard a cow! Indeed she had and a small herd of cows began wandering through. They were all around a trailer a little ways down the road so we walked down to check them out and in the process met another very nice couple and had a laugh over the cow invasion. We stayed and chatted for a few minutes about boondocking subjects, like trailer VS vans, 4WD vs AWD and agreed it is all about compromises with pros and cons to each.

This morning when we woke up and started coffee we heard a very soft clattering on the roof. We went outside for a moment and there was snow coming down! Very strange as it was sunny and about 45 degrees out, not very cold at all. Of course the snow was melting and evaporating instantly when it hit the ground. It is peculiar how any kind of moisture just disappears in the desert.

When we were climbing Teutonia Peak, I saw a hawk diving down at incredible speed, without a doubt going in to make some hapless critter dinner. How they don’t slam into the ground I just don’t know, they are incredible acrobatic fliers. We were at a gas station and there were some tropical sounding birds making all sorts of noises and calls, up in the palm trees. And just last night as dusk was giving way to night the small birds in the trees near us got very chatty with each other, twittering and calling and making silly noises. I think it is their way of saying goodnight to each other as they only kept it up for 15 minutes or so.

Today the plan is to head over to the Chiricahua monument because the rock formations there are so crazy and unique. Stay tuned for the next exciting episode!

Jonathan

A YEAR AGO: The sudden and tragic loss of my former brother-in-law Mike, one of the kindest men who ever lived. He was a good man a great father and grandfather. He will always be missed.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Some Saturday errands.

TEN YEARS AGO: A glorious spring day.

FIFTEEN YERAS AGO: A visit to Venice in 1984.

The moon was huge and blazing orange this morning. I wondered what the light was through the dark trees, and it turned out to be my old friend the moon. She was so beautiful that I actually gasped out loud. By the time I got to the ocean, I could barely see a glimpse of her as she slid into the fog bank above the water, so I couldn’t take a picture. Not that I have ever taken a good picture of the moon.

As I drove down the darkling Ridge this morning, an owl swooped low in front of my car, perhaps in search of an early breakfast. I instinctively ducked – as if my lowering my head inside the car would help! – and also braked, and we both emerged from the encounter unscathed. I love owls. If I had a totem animal, I think it would be an owl.

I also saw a group of young deer heading home after being out all night. It’s the baby animal time of year. It’s definitely spring now. The trees are leafed out in that translucent green they only have in spring, the California poppies are unfurling their bright orange blossoms by the side of the road, joined by spiky purple irises. The magnolia blossoms at the library have been replaced by lilacs, my favorites.

Despite the beauty of the season and the hopefulness it typically brings, we are still feeling sad at the loss of Star. Stella has been taking the loss of her companion harder than we expected. Stella is normally such a happy-go-lucky dog that we didn’t expect her sadness, though when you think about the fact that they were always together:

And that this change is as big in Stella’s life as it is in Rob’s and Megan’s, it only makes sense that big, goofy Stella is also grieving. For several days after Star’s death, Stella went back to the place she died and sniffed it. She also sniffed where Star used to sleep and eat. I guess we are all adjusting to the After phase of our lives.

Megan is making an effort to take Stella out to meet other people and dogs. She has always been super friendly, but Star was reserved and suspicious of strangers, so it was best for her to stay home, so that meant that Stella stayed home, too. But now she can walk around the Village and enjoy the attention she invariably gets, as well as the view from the Headlands:

Megan is planning to have Stella meet some friends’ dogs and perhaps take some classes as well. You may remember that she passed her Canine Good Citizenship class on the first try, though she might need a refresher course.

Megan and I enjoyed a night of GirlTV™ (Emily in Paris! Where is Season 2 already?) and GirlTalk™ (Tales from the ER!) last weekend. We are lucky that Rob is so tolerant of both these things.

A YEAR AGO: You can bring a girl to Michelin-starred food, but you can’t make her eat it.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Setting up the grandfather clock and remembering its history.

TEN YEARS AGO: Indoor and outdoor flooding.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Jump in the wayback machine with me! We’re going to Italy, circa 1984.

Desert Views

Jonathan and Rio’s adventures continue. For those of you who don’t know my brother, he is an avid ham radio operator, which comes into play in this installment.

Dateline: Mojave National Preserve, near Teutonia Peak, coordinates 35.315201 / 115.550104, elevation 4,928′.

After we packed up this morning we headed to a little place called Kelso. It is what is left of a train depot. During the steam train days locomotives pulling long trains couldn’t make it up the grade by themselves. So at Kelso they had “helper trains”, extra locomotives that helped the trains get to the top, then disconnected and went back down to Kelso to help the next train. Once powerful diesel locomotives were invented there was no reason for Kelso to exist and so it was mostly abandoned. There was also the remains of the Kelso jail, which at this point is just a cage. It used to have a tin roof and walls to keep the sun off the prisoners which is now gone.

This morning when I was checking into the Recreational Vehicle Service Net…

Wait a minute, maybe I should explain about nets. Radio nets are a meeting on the air of ham radio operators. So this morning, when I checked into the RV service net and was listening to the other stations I heard there was another ham camping just a few miles from us! What are the odds? So, I made contact with him and he and I had a great conversation on the radio. Turns out he has been here many times and had much information about what roads are good, which are bad, interesting places to go, where you can get water and so on.

So, following some of his advice we headed up Cima Valley road. There we found a forest of Joshua trees, just as good as at Joshua Tree National Park but with way less people. And as you know, way less people is my jam. We were looking for an old gold mine that our new ham friend was telling us of. We haven’t found that yet but did see on the map a place called Teutonia Peak. It showed a trail to the top. Challenge accepted! We decided to drive up there and check it out. On the way we were greeted by a very, very sad sight. The amazing Joshua tree forest had been burned over last year. So sad, thousands of acres of burned and probably dead Joshua trees. Bummer.

When we were close to Teutonia Peak we saw a sign for some sort of World War I memorial and so we stopped to check it out. It has an interesting history and perhaps I will tell you about it some time. While we were checking it out we found a nice little camp spot. The area is a small island that didn’t burn and so as I type this I can see beautiful Joshua trees, cholla cactus, creosote bushes, all sorts of green vegetation.

So we decided to camp there and hike to the Teutonia Peak trail head, which wasn’t far away. As we started up the trail we could see the burn up close. Every single plant had been burned. In many cases all that was left was just a sooty spot on the ground. It is hard to believe that the fire was so intense that it burned every single thing. Plants and trees in the desert are pretty far apart and yet the fire managed to get them all. There are a few green tips here and there that hint that some might survive. If they get some rain and it sure doesn’t look there has been much if any this year so far.

We started the climb up Teutonia peak. From the scorched remains we could see that types of plants change as you go up. The Joshua trees become smaller and fewer and the juniper trees get larger and appear more often. The cholla cactus gives way to this flat, roundish cactus that I don’t know the name of. As we climbed the wind got stronger and stronger and as we reached the ridge that leads to the peak I had to tie my hat on or it was going to blow away! And there was no way in that terrain that I would have gotten it back. So, hat tied tightly we made our way along the ridge to the top.

The view from the top was spectacular! As is usually the case in the desert the view went on forever. So many interesting mountains and rock formations to look at. The top itself was a neat little place with a little rock alcove that had a natural seat and would have been a perfect place to hide from a rain storm. You could see some islands that didn’t get burned and it made us realize just how green this part of the desert used to be. I look forward to coming back in a few years to see how it is coming back. We also have much left to explore here.

After getting back to Moby, we made some dinner. The wind continued to blow so we cooked outside but ate inside. It was getting chilly, especially with the wind still blowing. We watched a movie and then went to bed with wind making the antenna sing us a bedtime song.

Until the next chapter,

Jonathan

A YEAR AGO: A night in town.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Remembering Dad.

TEN YEARS AGO: The invisible super moon.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Getting declined all over the place.

Dad and Margaret at the Tate Gallery, London

Today would have been my father’s 90th birthday.

Is it still his birthday when he isn’t here to see it? I would like to think it is. His birthday is always his birthday to me. This year it falls just four days after we lost our beloved Star, making it all the more painful. This year also marks the 20th anniversary of Dad’s sudden and untimely death. I guess it’s just sad all the way around.

Although Dad’s life was too short, it was a wonderful one. His last few years, with his much-loved Margaret, may have been the happiest he ever knew. I believe she was the love of his life. They were so happy together and had so much in common, growing up during WWII, loving travel and adventure, art, wine, good cooking, and family. Margaret was the perfect travel companion, happily hopping on African buses full of people and livestock in the tropical heat, or sitting by a dusty roadside waiting for the bus to get repaired and start up again. It was all good fun to her, and she never complained, all while being perfectly dressed and coiffed at all times. I am so thankful for the love and joy they shared, right until the end.

I’m proud of Dad’s work and how he helped to get DDT banned and get the peregrine falcon off the endangered species list, as well as his work on the effects of oil spills and detergent dispersants on sea birds, and his efforts to clean up the Great Lakes. He was often called on to be an expert witness, and his work lives on, continuing to be cited by other scientists and inspiring young scientists to do new work. When he died, he was still editing the scientific journal “Ecotoxicology”, which he founded, and was set to chair an international OECD meeting later that month. He was still working, still making the world a better place than he found it.

But more than a great scientist, he was a great father. He just wanted all of us to be happy. He never pressured us to follow in his footsteps. He knew all the worst things about me, and loved me anyway. He always gave me great advice, and he was never wrong.

I am lucky to have been known and loved like that. And to have had a father who was my best friend.

Our Shining Star

Star died around 1:00 pm on Saturday, March 13.

She was lying in the sun in the garden when she started coughing up blood. Stella started barking like crazy. She is not a barker or freaker outer, so she knew something was wrong*. Rob ran to get Megan, who was sleeping after her third 12 hour night shift of the week, and by the time they got back to the garden, Star was gone. Megan called me and we had what may have been the shortest conversation we ever had:

Me: Hi, sweetie!

Megan: I think Star just died.

Me: Be right there.

It seemed like a long drive over there. I wished it was 2 minutes, the way it used to be, instead of 20. I blew by the 30 mile an hour signs at 55.

I was glad I stopped by to see her on Friday and had that last visit with her. She and Megan walked me to my car, and I watched them in my side mirror until they were out of sight. Megan told me later that Star watched me drive away. I wonder if she knew it was the last time.

Star was still happy to see me on Friday, though she also seemed tired. I thought it would happen sometime this week, but not so soon. I was planning to visit her again over the weekend.

Star looked peaceful other than the blood. She was lying in the garden, near the rows of onions and garlic, her clean fur shining in the sun. Megan and I put Star on a soft, lavender flannel sheet and moved her to the bench of the picnic table for ease of petting. Stella again barked and ran around when we moved Star.

We spent a few hours petting and kissing Star, burying our noses in her silky coat to smell her familiar smell, or just resting our hands on her soft fur as we reminisced and cried, trying to begin to come to terms with this huge loss.

When the time came, Rob took Star for one last ride in the golf cart, in the front seat, of course. I walked behind them with my head bowed and my heart aching. I felt honored that I had been there for the beginning of Star’s time with us, and to be there at the end.

It was hard to say goodbye, and it broke my heart to see Megan so heartbroken. She couldn’t stop kissing Star’s face and holding her in floods of tears. Rob and I tried to keep it together for Megan. I rubbed her back as she bent over Star, whispering her last words of love and comfort and giving a final kiss to that beloved, beautiful face.

Rob laid Star to rest gently, making sure she was tucked in before we filled in the grave, that final service for a loved one, as the late winter afternoon shone down upon us.

I am grateful for the 11 years we had with Star, and for the love, joy, and beauty she brought to our lives. Rest easy, sweet girl. You are forever loved.

*I later learned that even the most placid dogs have been known to bark at death. A friend told me that she was alerted to her mother’s death by their dogs barking up a storm. Maybe they are warning the pack that something is very, very wrong.

Vanlife

Jonathan and Rio are off on an adventure, camping in their van. They started out in the desert, and I thought you might enjoy hearing about their adventures, which he somehow emails to us via radio. That, and things like getting the Predicta working, are above my pay grade and intellectual capacities. I will just say that I am happy to hear from them on the road and am also enjoying the pictures.

Dateline: Mojave National Preserve, 3/8/21, coordinates 35.168996 / 115.821258

After a too short but lovely visit with the L.A. crew we headed out on the road trip proper. We got off the highway at Baker, CA, and immediately were on a road less traveled. Our objective was to find the cinder cones we had seen on the map. After about 20 miles or so we saw them and began to look for a spot to camp. We found a great little spot and got Moby[their camping van, seen above] parked. Naturally we wanted to go investigate the cinder cones in the distance so off we went. (with the coordinates above you can find the very cinder cone we climbed!)

Cinder cones are what is left from where the molten core of the earth spewed molten lava. They are the simplest type of volcano where there is just a single vent for the lava to follow. The ones here are just a few hundred feet tall. As we started hiking towards the cinder cone we saw that all the rocks here are the volcanic type. When you look at them you can see they were once liquid and that as they dried gas was escaping. They are blob-like and have many little holes from the escaping gases. We will bring you some to see. Holding these rocks you can just imagine the ancient past: The cinder cones spewing forth red hot lava, thick smoke everywhere. Liquid rock raining down, hardening as it falls. Dinosaurs rampaging and stalking around, fiercely roaring. Primitive man, dressed in leopard skin loincloths, armed only with spears, desperately hunting the T-Rex hoping to avoid becoming dinner while getting some for themselves

Oh wait. Man and dinosaurs were never on the earth at the same time. And probably there were no T-Rex around here either. Still, it makes a great image to think about as you contemplate the volcanic rocks. We continued to hike and got to the base of the cinder cone. There is the remains of a road going up the cone, left over from some sort of mining operation in the past. It isn’t easy to climb as the small volcanic rocks make a sort of large sand and are pretty slippery. We worked our way up until we had a nice view of Moby off in the distance. We headed back down, got to Moby and began to settle in for the night. We got the antenna up, the tables and chairs out and made dinner. Which was chicken cacciatore, chicken thighs browned and then simmered in our garden sauce, served over rice. Yum!

This morning, delightfully, we don’t really know where we will end up later. Somewhere within the Mojave preserve, we shall just have to see what we see. Until then,

Jonathan

A YEAR AGO: My traveling companions

FIVE YEARS AGO: A delightful event at Monica’s delightful store.

TEN YEARS AGO: The horror of the Japanese earthquake and tsunami.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: A slight improvement.

Star was feeling under the weather, and then she started gagging and making coughing noises. A concerned Megan took Star to see Dr. Karen, and tests revealed that Star secretly had cancer somewhere – we don’t know where – which has spread into her lungs, which was causing the coughing and gagging.

This was a staggering blow to Megan, who adores Star and assumed she had a few more good years with her beloved companion. Faithful readers may recall the Great Dog Rescue Adventure, eleven years ago next month, when Megan and I spent the day driving to Colusa to pick up Star and bring her home with us. I think it was around 8 hours of driving.

I also think Star knew that Megan was her person, even though Megan didn’t. When we went to get Star, we thought that Megan would foster her until a permanent home could be found. When we stopped to get gas, Megan went inside the gas station, and Star immediately jumped into the front seat, her eyes glued to where Megan had last been seen. They had only known each other for a few hours at this point, but Star had clearly decided that Megan was her mama and that was it. To this day, Star still does the same thing if Megan leaves the car with Star in it.

Star’s original owner jumped off the cliffs into the ocean and Star tried (and failed) to rescue her, despite the fact that the owner was, to say the least, not kind to her. Star was sent to live with the owner’s boyfriend, who kept up the tradition of treating Star very badly indeed, so we were glad to take her away from all that.

She certainly happily hopped into my car that day, and I truly believe that my being there when her bad old life ended and the new fabulous one began has never been forgotten by Star. No one is ever as happy to see me as Star is.

I have been stopping by on my way home to visit with Star while we still have her. She is on Predisone, which seems to be helping. Her breathing sounds a little weird, and she is subdued. She is still happy to see me, her tail wagging excitedly, but she is not as bouncy. I think both she and Stella know what is happening. Maybe they can smell it or something. Star is lying close to Stella, and Stella is bathing her and generally fussing over Star.

But Star is still happy. She is riding in the golf cart:

lounging in the sun with Stella, supervising in the greenhouse as spring approaches:

and providing that all-important quality control when Megan works at home (you can see Stella in the background):

.

We don’t know how long we will have with her, but we will enjoy every moment.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A stormy day.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: A really bad case of the flu.

Seems we’ve all been wondering what day it is. Even those of us who have never stopped working never seem to know what day or time it is. Sometimes, I find myself wondering what time of year it is, too.

I’m not alone in this. Here are some messages from the local message boards:

Today’s Date Is?(subject line; nothing in body of message)

Response 1:

Medjool dates grow in Dateland Arizona. It’s in Yuma county. I drove thru there on the way to New Mexico from San Diego.

Response 2:

Today’s date is Medjool.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medjool

Medjool is a large, sweet cultivated variety of date (Phoenix
dactylifera) from the Tafilalt region of Morocco, also grown in the
United States, Israel, Iran, Saudi Arabia, South Africa, Jordan, Palestine.

The variety is planted both for harvesting and for landscaping. The
Medjool is a distinct landrace, described as producing “large soft
fruit, with orange-yellowish flesh, and a mildly rich and pleasing flavor.”

Israel, with its advanced wastewater recycling technologies, currently
owns more than 60 percent of the global Medjool market share, making it
the largest exporter of Medjool dates in the world.

You’re welcome.

Response 3:

By way of our old and dear departed friend Yogi Berra.

Somebody once asked Yogi what time it was.

He looked back at the fellow and without skipping a beat replied:
“You mean right now?”

Response 4:

Time is….of the essence! So I suppose it’s one of those new perfumes at $38 per ounce?

Response 5:

Right on schedule!

A YEAR AGO: Those naughty kitties.

FIVE YEARS AGO: An update from the local message boards.

TEN YEARS AGO: My dear friend A was finally released from intensive care. I continue to be grateful that she survived.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: A little under the weather.