June 25-26 -- A Power Outage, Mr. Skynyrd, And Some "Good" Backyard Birds

It started off as another day manning the Cave Creek Canyon Visitor Info Center; it will be my last time until I come back from the Alaska trip, which will take about 3 months. We do a tally of the number of people who come into the building, whether or not they're visitors, and yesterday we had 15, including the pest control guy who was checking the buildings for pack mice (he didn't find any at the VIC, or at least none that he mentioned to me). Most of the people who come in say something like "Gee, I never realized how beautiful this place is!" Or even "I never knew this place existed!" I'm part of the reason for comments like those is that we're so far off the "beaten path". The only place that you go to from here is the national monument on the west side, and that route isn't paved, so it's not the first choice to get there. THIS usually has to be your destination, and for many people they simply don't know it's here. Hard to believe when you're surrounded by such spectacular scenery. So it's a revelation to most visitors how beautiful this area on the east side of the Chiricahuas is. 

But, as most of you know by now, there are some...inconveniences...we may encounter here from time to time. After I came back from the VIC, I was at the computer when I heard a click, looked at the digital phone -- and the connection was lost. The ceiling fans that are constantly on stopped, too. Oh-oh, power outage...It's only happened once before since I moved here, and that lasted a few hours. Since I can't use the landline phone, I call my friends Lori and Mark to see if their power was out, too. "Yep, it's out!" Lori said before she even said hello. My mind thought about things I have to do -- and things I should have done prior to this. Open the refrigerator and freezer only when you have to, so things stay cold or frozen as long as possible. DON'T use the water, or only for essential things; as the well pump is electric, so the only water that's left is what's above ground. And the best way to store that water is to put it in a bathtub. Ordinarily, if the power is out for a long period of time, I could stay in the trailer as it's run on batteries that are constantly charged up by the solar panels, but I let my friends Rob and Deb use it. And  heck, the garage door is also electric -- and my truck is in the garage. So I got out the instructions to find out how to manually open it. It wasn't that difficult, but I discovered that top of Tundra's camper shell is too tall for the manually opened garage door; it doesn't lock into place, so when it's rolled up, it keeps sliding down. Well, THAT's not good. I was due over at Mark and Lori's place in about 10 minutes, so I walked over there; it's only about a mile at most. When I arrived, Mark opened the door, and classical music was playing (that's one of the many things we have in common, a love of classical music). The power had gone back on during my walk. Well, at least Mr. Skynyrd didn't have to do an acoustic set because there was no electricity, though out eardrums would have been spared. The concert and time spent there was great -- good food, good beer (called Kilt Lifter, believe it or not), and good friends. And music that took us all back to the 70s, or at least those that were around then. The concert ended fittingly with -- what else? -- "Free Bird". 

Yesterday the 26th was a day devoted mostly to watching the wildlife at Faranuf, and the return of the monsoons. (Yes, life during retirement can be tough.) The deer still seem to be skittish when they're approaching the rubber water dish. Check that; the Coues (White-tailed) deer are hesitant to approach it, but the Mule deer go right up to it and drink away. The Coues look at it, then stretch over to drink as if it has cooties; it appears like they're put off by the smell of rubber.  But thank goodness the mesquite now has pods as the deer eat that and are less inclined to go for the bird seed. 

I had a new visitor to the back yard -- a young Crissal Thrasher. I've heard them sing, but only from a distance, so it was a real treat to see one, especially a juvenile --

I also have 2 Lucy's Warblers; they've been here for about the past 4 days. One is obviously a male, with the rufous red cap --

And I believe this is a young male --

Lucy's are "fairly common" here in summer, and I had one in the back yard last year, though I only got a quick glimpse of it. It's uncommon, so a real treat, to have any warblers here in my back yard.

Mr. Blue Grosbeak continues to look spectacular, and I see him frequently with his missus --

I had an early dinner and spent the rest of the evening out on the front porch, watching the cloud display from the monsoonal flow. It's both complex and dramatic --

The complexity lies in the variety of phenomena you can see at any given moment. For instance, here are sunlit clouds, rays from the setting sun, and a sliver of a rainbow --

And the critter cam looking at the water feature continues to entertain. This is the first time I've seen a javelina there at night, and he made a memorable entrance. Be sure to have the sound on.. 

June 22-24 -- An FOS Tarantula, A Thirsty Coyote, And The Monsoons Have Arrived

The hot days continue. The temperature went over 100 degrees the other day,  and the 10-day forecast is for 90s all across the board. We're supposed to be entering the monsoon season, and we have been getting monsoon-y looking clouds and dark skies in the late afternoon, but so far it's still all "sound and fury, signifying nothing".  Even the "red skies in the morning, sailor take warning" haven't panned out -- though of course we have no sailors to speak of, as we're about 600 miles from the nearest ocean on the US side of the border -- 

The start of the monsoon season, usually around the first of July, means the male Tarantulas are out and about, looking for a female to mate with. The rain is supposed to encourage them to come out of their burrows, but as there hasn't been any to speak of, I guess they're due to come out come rain or shine, as I saw my First Tarantula Of The Season yesterday.  I went into the house and grabbed my camera to get a photo of him --

But when I went back in to get my longer lens for a better-quality photo, I came back -- and he was gone. They move FAST for their size, and I looked around just in case he surprised me, or was on the side porch. I don't mind Tarantulas, but if I know one is around, I'd prefer to know where it is...

The heat and lack of water are bringing the animals around in search of relief. I saw evidence of that the other day when two Gray Foxes came into my back yard during day and drank from the rubber water dish, and when I saw a Pronghorn family during the grocery run to Douglas. So it didn't surprise me when a coyote ambled in to my back yard to quench his thirst --

And the coyote really did amble, but I was inside the house and saw it out the back sliding glass door and knew that if I opened it, he'd take off. So I took the photo, then as I headed to slowly open the door he ambled back into the brush. Most of the wildlife, whether they're deer, fox, bobcat, coyote, or birds, seem to be quite comfortable, and unthreatened, when they're visiting my back yard. And that's how I like it. 

While I haven't been getting any WOW birds, nice ones have been showing up --

Mr. and Mrs. Blue Grosbeak

Pine Siskin; they're usually breeding up in the higher elevations by now, so seeing one here is "uncommon" 

A male Lucy's Warbler

While I love Faranuf and living on the east side of the Chiricahuas, I still get the itch to head out on the open road with Discovery II. After living on the road for nearly 2 years after I retired from Kaiser, I realized I wasn't a full-time RVer, and needed four permanent walls as my home base. But there was one place I always planned on visiting with the trailer -- Alaska. I was going to go last year, but I wasn't mentally ready for it. Now I am, since I have a place to come back to after traveling for about 3 months.  I'll be leaving Faranuf and Portal in about 2 weeks. With that in mind, I bought a new battery for Tundra, and replaced the windshield that had been hit twice by small rocks in past 2 months. But this weekend of the 25th I "lent" Discovery II to my friends Rob and Deb, the owners of the Rodeo Tavern across the way in New Mexico. They haven't had a real vacation in years, so I suggested they borrow the trailer and take off for a few days. It worked out for both of us, as Rob strengthened the awning that's caused me so much grief these past 6 months, and done other little improvements. Alas, he also discovered a propane leak both in the lines running to the propane tanks and the regulator. I'll have to stop on by an RV center in Tucson on the way up to Alaska to get it taken care of. 

Friday the 24th began with a beautiful sunrise, and was cloudy on-and-off all day. It's the beginning of the monsoons here, and the end of the dry conditions that has kept us in its grip for nearly 6 months. It's not the end of the heat, though; it's still going to be in the 90s, along with higher humidity. But it's a treat to see the colorful morning skies again --

Then in the early afternoon a thin curtain of rain came over the mountains. Lightning, thunder, and a small cell moved through our area, and the skies were magnificent; this is looking towards Cave Creek Canyon --

The season's first tarantula, dramatic clouds, rain and a small break in the heat -- the monsoon season is here...

June 18-21 -- Back Home At Faranuf, A Strawberry Moon, And Wildlife Along Hwy 80

This past winter's El Nino never panned out here. As I've mentioned before, we've had very little rain since January. We did have 2 hailstorms when I was gone, and my neighbor Mark who was watching my house had to dump the hailstones out of the back gutters as they were causing it to sag. but all of that precipitation at one time didn't do much to alleviate the drought. What we need is a good SOAKING rain, and the forecast until the end of June calls for temps near 100 on all of those days. The monsoons are supposed to start in July; we'll see. The birds here have been panting and avoiding the heat of the afternoon, and even some of the critters that usually visit the water feature at night are coming in the early morning after  sunrise. So imagine my surprise when 2 Gray Foxes show up at around 7am, luckily when I'm on the back porch with my 500mm lens. While one heads for the shade of the RV canopy, the other one gets some water -- 

Then goes to the shade provided by the canopy and looks pretty darned content --

I'm constantly amazed at how all of the animals that visit my property seem to be relaxed and not jumpy or feeling threatened. To encourage that, I try to move slowly if I'm standing or sitting in the back chair. And though it's taking awhile, even the Mule and White-tailed deer are getting used to the rubber water dish that replaced the water feature in the ground. I notice that some of the deer are still tentative about the dish, looking at it from a distant and seeming to WANT to go to it, and they eventually do, are rooted to the ground and reach way over to drink. In this heat, they probably realize they don't have much choice. 

When I was driving back home on Friday and crossed over to the east side of the Chiricahuas on Interstate 10, I took a photo of Dos Cabezas (Spanish for "Two Heads"), seen as 2 "knobs" on the mountains from some angles, and after viewing it on my MacBook Pro once I got back to Faranuf, I saw there had been 3 Turkey Vultures near them, soaring on the thermals- --

Another landmark that's been named for its fanciful resemblance is Cochise Head. Cochise was one of the most famous of the Chiricahua Apaches, and his Apache name translates as "his nose", which by all accounts for aquiline, even a "Roman nose". So there is a ridge in the Chiricahua National Monument that people say bears a resemblance to his profile. But it of course is horizontal, so I saved you the chore of twisting your neck to see it by doing a vertical perspective --

The resemblance is better appreciated at other angles, but you can see his forehead -- and "noble" nose.

The skies have been cloudless for the most part during this heat wave, but there has been some build during the heat of the afternoon, leading to some memorable sunsets. Here's one from the other evening --

And the 20th was of course the summer solstice -- the longest day of the year. And a full moon coincided with the solstice for the first time in 70 years. The special moon on summer solstice night has been called "honey", probably due to its amber color at moonrise, and a "strawberry moon", not  because of its color, but due to an Algonquin Indian tradition that it means it's time to harvest the strawberries. Heck, I didn't know that, so I was waiting for it to look like a lunar strawberry -- which it, of course, never did. A friend of mine set me straight on the Algonquin angle. So here's the "strawberry", or "honey", moon just as it rises over the Peloncillo Mountains to the east of me --

And as it set this morning, over Cave Creek Canyon -- 

Today, the 21st, was another grocery run to Douglas, 55 miles to the south. I don't mind the long drive because the scenery is spectacular -- at least to me --, there is no traffic, and you can see some pretty neat wildlife. And since there aren't many cars, you can pull over, stop, and take photographs of the animals and birds with nary a worry about someone rear-ending you. (Just remember not to stop in the MIDDLE of the road.) On this particular outing, I noticed seeing more animals than usual, and that may have to do with them looking for water during this long dry period. There was this Pronghorn family off in the distance; here's one of the adults --

And the other adult and 2 kiddies --

This was the first time I'd seen Pronghorn on the east side of the Chiricahuas, though I hear they have been seen further west. And when coming back from Douglas, there was a small herd of wild horses --

And a proud, intense juvenile Red-tail --

And just in case my backyard birds think I've forgotten about them, here's a head shot of Mr. Northern Cardinal, taken with the 500mm "Big Boy" lens -- 

The hot days relentlessly continue here in SE Arizona, with no monsoonal flow forecast for the next 10 days.. 

A Look Back At Faranuf, Part III

Gee, I'm only up to November 2015; at this rate the retrospective is going to be as long as Tolstoy's "War and Peace"... Today, June 20, is the summer solstice, longest day of the year, and also the coincidence of that and the "strawberry moon" for the first time in 70 years. Though the full moon is supposed to be more of an amber color than strawberry...But there are big fires to the north and northeast of us, so the moon may be more of a fiery red here. Anyway, to continue chronologically where I left off -- 

DYC -- Damn Yellow Composites, which are numerous species of composite flowers that are yellow and difficult to tell apart from the field. 

The kidlets of the Coues Deer Family. My, how they've grown in the past 8 months!

My first solar pillar; I've seen 2 more here since then.

The historical military convoy comes to Rodeo, New Mexico.

Portal's Postmistress Joan and her husband Chuck on the porch of the Portal Post Office; the building used to be the Portal Schoolhouse.

Dodie, Peter, and yours truly having conquered Silver Peak -- 4,000 feet in 4 miles. 

October 30 -- The first snow of the season.

"You're all infidels!" Saddam Hussein hangs around the Portal Halloween Party.

Along the McCord Trail -- the outskirts of Portal is below, and the road to Paradise snakes off under Limestone Mountain.

From the top of the McCord Trail -- the San Simon Valley, and New Mexico's Peloncillo Mountains. If you know where to look, you can barely make out Rodeo, "New Mexico's Most Western Town", population 101. 

Well, what did you expect? 

June 17 -- 2500 Miles To CA's Bay Area And Back

Back to the trip after the Faranuf retrospective...If you remember, I travelled to Fairfield, CA, east of the Bay Area, for my nephew's wedding and to visit the Kaiser facility there for immunizations and travel meds for my upcoming Peru trip. The wedding and reception were fun, but the Kaiser visit left me shaking my head (it wouldn't have done me any good to get mad, though that would have been as good of a place as any to get a stroke). They said my Kaiser coverage had been terminated, then they couldn't find my order for travel meds that the nurse had put into the computer a week or so before the visit. A day after the debacle, the nurse called me, saying "Did you get the immunizations done and pick up the meds? I see they're still in the computer." No, I didn't pick them up -- because the doctor who I had the appointment with said she couldn't find them. A case of one hand not knowing what the other is doing... I'd worked for Kaiser down in southern California for 34 years -- or was it all a dream? My life seems so different now -- so I was used to foulups. The thing to do is be patient, as they usually get resolved, which was the case this time. After profuse apologies, I ended up getting everything I needed. It's just that it took a wild ride to get them. So ok, after all that I needed a break. Near Suisun City, just south of Fairfield, there's a huge area that's the largest brackish water marsh on the west coast of the US. It's a land of agriculture and nature -- and all within a few miles of a heavily urban area. Just a few miles from Suisun City, you're transported to a land where you can see a cattle drive -- albeit with ATVs instead of horses -- 

That's Suisun City in the distance, with ranch land and marshes running along Grizzly Island Road, which winds through the area which is formed by the confluence of the San Joaquin and Sacramento Rivers -- 

It's land, bays, and sloughs and is part of the San Franciso Bay tidal estuary, and subject to tidal ebb and flood. You're transported from the hubbub of city life to a rural, natural area -- 

After the wedding and Kaiser visit, I started the journey back home. Highway 12 goes through a land of rolling agricultural fields dotted with wind turbines, which makes for interesting scenery --

Cattle are dwarfed by turbines receding into the distance --

I'd decided to take a winding route through Yosemite then down the Owens Valley. The day called for thunderstorms over the Sierra Nevada. Thunder, lightning, periods of heavy rain made for a dramatic change from all the hot weather back home in Portal -- and the part of the drive through the southeast California desert, where Needles, along the California/Arizona border, was 120 degrees. Yosemite was cloudy and cool, with watery cascades all over the place, pouring down the granite walls. Here's Tenaya Lake -- 

And I had to check out Yosemite Valley. It was raining and misty, and most of the landmarks were hard to see, but it was still impressive --

The main reason for crossing the Sierra -- and it's not Sierras plural,  just Sierra, singular, as it's considered to be one giant fault block -- was, well, to get to the other side, of course. And that means Owens Valley, and the eastern Sierra. The road through the Yosemite, Hwy 120 or the Tioga Pass Road, ends up at the tiny town of Lee Vining, gateway to Mono Lake. Nearly 2 million waterbirds, use Mono Lake to rest and eat for at least part of the year. And the second largest nesting population of California Gulls -- only Utah's Great Salt Lake has more -- is here. I didn't have time to do some birdwatching, so I got up early the next morning for the sunrise. The skies were clear after yesterday's storm, so I concentrated on the tufa towers in the lake. I was also lucky enough to get mist rising from the lake's surface --

Here's a view looking north, with the bunches of grass being lit by the rising sun -- 

There are 2 ruined cabins south of Mono Lake, heading down the 395. They're quite picturesque with their snow-covered Sierra backdrop, passing by them I always wonder who lived there, and why -- 

My next stop is always Convict Lake. It's a true shrine of nature, surrounded as it is by tall mountain peaks. It's particularly a favorite place of mine in the fall, when the aspen are a blaze of yellow,  red and orange. And the colorful folds of the rock are unique --

From the Sherwin Pass at 7000 feet, you head down into Owens Valley, known as "The Deepest Valley" as, yes, it's the deepest valley in North America, with up to a 10,000-foot elevation difference from the valley floor to Mt. Whitney, the highest point in the contiguous United States at 14,505 feet. I've always loved it for its drama and wide-open expanses. It's been a few years, but I've backpacked up the 10,000 foot-plus climbs of Shepherd, Sawmill, and Taboose Passes. It's hard to beat the magnificent sweep of the wall of mountains; this is the view as you're going down the Sherwin Grade to Bishop --

Whenever I'm in the Owens Valley, I make it a point to visit some friends; I call them The Aberdeen Donkeys. I buy carrots at the Safeway in Bishop and visit them at their home on the outskirts of the tiny town of Aberdeen. They're gentle inquisitive, and pretty polite for being donkeys. Some ladies saw me with them and drove out to where I was; I asked them to take my photo -- 

They look quite at home in the high-desert landscape --

This little gal is my favorite --

The Aberdeen Donkeys -- check them out if you're ever in the area. And don't forget to bring those carrots...

The landscape in the Owens Valley is one of agricultural in a classic mountain backdrop -- 

And down along the road to Onion Valley, to the west of the town of Independence, the vistas are as far as the eye can reach; classic Basin and Range scenery -- 

Another place I always try to visit is Cartago, population 95 (so Portal is still smaller, at 60) just north of Olancha. My friends Carol and Ralph live there, along with 3 dogs, 2 cats, 2 goats, and 2 horses . They were both born and raised in the Owens Valley. Once they retired from jobs in the hustle of bustle of southern California, they decided to move back, and never regretted it. Now that I too am living the rural life, I totally agree with their decision. 

Carol told me about a unique work of art just off the 395 as you go south out of the valley. It's obviously a Joshua Tree -- but its trunk and branches are made of horseshoes. It was created by a local artist, and is just one example of the whimsical works of art you'll see along the highway.

I drove about 600 miles that day, from Cartago to Tucson, Arizona. The difference between the two couldn't be more stark, from a place of 95 to a land of seemingly millions; this is the view of Tucson from the Catalina Mountains to the north --

So it was with a sense of relief that I arrived back home, 12 days and 2500 miles later....