Thursday, March 30, 2006
Sunday, March 26, 2006
March 26th - Pilot RV Stanfield OR
N 45 45.888 W 119 12.463
It’s been a long time since I wrote anything on the computer - even my log from which this message and the Golden Falcon blog get updated. This is surely a function of my hectic lifestyle combined with almost no free days to sit down and tap away on the computer. This message is coming from the Pilot RV Park in Stanfield Oregon, my penultimate (The Omak Walmart being the last) stop before crossing the border.
At the time of writing the last e-mail, I was still in Arizona near Bouse. On March 13th, I pulled up stakes and headed for Moab, via Prescott National Forest, Flagstaff and Monument Valley. On the way, I stopped at the Bouse County Park to dump 6 weeks of black tank effluent (sewage) – this to lighten the load and improve my fuel consumption statistics for the mostly uphill route. My thought was to pass along #60, #71 and then #89, through Prescott to join up with I-40 which leads to Flagstaff, then get back on 89 for the northward trek. The Prescott road from Kirkland Junction was one of the twistiest ones that I have driven, highly scenic and , if one is not in a hurry, then highly recommended (not, however, if one is over 40’ in length). Prescott is an attractive small city at about 6500’ – there was snow all over the place from the storm of the last weekend but the road itself was fine. One day earlier and I might have had to contend with over a foot. Because of cool temps (29° and dropping through Flagstaff), I figured that I might as well keep on moving until getting somewhere a little lower and, hence, a little warmer. Monument Valley, where I ended up at the Mitten View Campground (N36 58.865 W110 06.881), is at 5600’ but temps levelled out a little below freezing and all was well. I stayed two nights and took the 17 mile scenic tour of Monument Valley in the truck on my free day. This place is incredible with buttes and mesas rising from the desert floor in huge red sandstone formations. The cliffs are sheer and rise up to 1000’. Mitten View is on the Navajo Tribal Park property and is run by the Indian band. The Visitor Center and end of the road are right next door (another $5.00 charge) with gift shop and restaurant (closed). They sell locally made Navajo rugs in the shop and have them displayed on the walls. The price range for these went up to $12000.00, though there were some bargains, none bigger than a queen sized blanket, for $8000.00 – $9000.00. Navajo blankets, an excellent purchase for campers, were $45.00. I was tempted but don’t really need a blanket.
With cool nights, I though that I would ration battery power by using the generator, since the furnace might have had to operate (at minimum heat) just to keep the water lines thawed. Monument Valley is a very impressive place and will likely be a regular stop on future journeys.
I got to Moab, part way up eastern Utah, on March 15th and settled into Ken’s Lake, a BLM campground near a waterfall coming off the red cliffs and located some 8 miles south of town. On Saturday, my friend Darch Oborne from Merritt, BC, arrived with his friend Howard Kelly. The plan was for them to camp in tents, use the trailer as a base of operations (a term chiefly involving food, beer and rum components). The campers survived two nights of hard ground, cool temps and general hardship before making an executive decision to move into a camping cabin at Portal RV, one of the commercial parks in Moab. To be sociable, I packed up the trailer and joined them. This was probably a good move, since Howard is the next best thing to a non-biker and seeks his entertainment on the Internet playing poker – this, in addition to truck-shuttling the two of us to our various bike ride departure points. I have been to Moab before and was well aware that most of the rides were at the upper limits of my competence and general state of fitness. There are no easy trails in Moab. Everything involves a climb of a thousand vertical feet or so with trails down ranging from slickrock with ledges to cliffside singletracks with every imaginable hazard, including, but not limited to, disappearance over the edge with a landing anywhere from 500 to 1000 feet below, a manoeuvre for which even the most expensive helmet fails to prevent instant death. For those who have been to Moab, the run names might be of interest. We did Porcupine Rim, Amasa Back - with a return along the “insanely” treacherous Jackson’s Trail, Gold Bar Rim, a trip of 27miles in all - steep climbs followed by the equally notorious, vertigo-inducing”, Portal Trail. We also rode Flat Pass, which isn’t flat at all, but happened to be near Ken’s Lake and was therefore convenient. To Moabians, these are all “epic” rides. Since I walked most of the steep stuff, my epic was really just a question of survival. Midweek, I decided to take a “day off”, since I was getting worn out. This was a good opportunity to take Howard for an “easy” ride. On the map, I had spotted a short, “green” category trail called Round Mountain. The map made no mention of the fact that it was for jeeps and ATVs but definitely not for bikes, since most of it was surfaced with loose cobblestones and involved quite steep climbs into and out of several deep gullies. Even though Howard pitched off his bike about five times and ended up covered in blood, I’m sure that this ride will go down in his books as being “memorable”, if not “epic”. Luckily, my trailer is equipped with vast quantities of Hydrogen Peroxide and bandages of every description, so we managed to put Howard (I was going to say Humpty) together again without too much mess. Darch had met one of our campground hosts who offered to act as guide. On the one trip that I joined, we still wouldn’t be back in camp today if not for the local knowledge. Anyway, that’s Moab; a good time was had by all.
We left Moab yesterday, March 25th, with Darch and Howard opting for a two day push back to Merritt, me choosing the more sedate route, planning to take about five days, of which this is the second. Yesterday afternoon, I was just pulling in to Twin Falls, Idaho, for fuel and then a night in the parking lot at a Flying J Truck Stop, when, all of a sudden, an opaque red cloud of dust blew in, obliterated almost all visibility, covered everything, including the entrance to the service station with a layer of dust and threatened to blow over the canopy of the station – under which I was hiding. This dust soon turned to rain and we had a heavy downpour for a while with high winds that lasted throughout the night. I was thankful that the timing was such that I was reasonably well protected at the Flying J rather than out on the highway. My radio station interrupted whatever it was broadcasting to give a few beeps and then an emergency message saying that winds of 70 mph (over 110 kph) were expected and that all semis and RVs should get off the road. I’m still upright, as is the trailer, though the nerve-calming rum and coke that I served myself, once I got set up, managed to slop over the table as the trailer rocked and rolled in the wind.
Unless I get diverted, I should make it home by the 28th after which the annual tussle with my water pump will likely occupy much of the following week – more on that later.
N 45 45.888 W 119 12.463
It’s been a long time since I wrote anything on the computer - even my log from which this message and the Golden Falcon blog get updated. This is surely a function of my hectic lifestyle combined with almost no free days to sit down and tap away on the computer. This message is coming from the Pilot RV Park in Stanfield Oregon, my penultimate (The Omak Walmart being the last) stop before crossing the border.
At the time of writing the last e-mail, I was still in Arizona near Bouse. On March 13th, I pulled up stakes and headed for Moab, via Prescott National Forest, Flagstaff and Monument Valley. On the way, I stopped at the Bouse County Park to dump 6 weeks of black tank effluent (sewage) – this to lighten the load and improve my fuel consumption statistics for the mostly uphill route. My thought was to pass along #60, #71 and then #89, through Prescott to join up with I-40 which leads to Flagstaff, then get back on 89 for the northward trek. The Prescott road from Kirkland Junction was one of the twistiest ones that I have driven, highly scenic and , if one is not in a hurry, then highly recommended (not, however, if one is over 40’ in length). Prescott is an attractive small city at about 6500’ – there was snow all over the place from the storm of the last weekend but the road itself was fine. One day earlier and I might have had to contend with over a foot. Because of cool temps (29° and dropping through Flagstaff), I figured that I might as well keep on moving until getting somewhere a little lower and, hence, a little warmer. Monument Valley, where I ended up at the Mitten View Campground (N36 58.865 W110 06.881), is at 5600’ but temps levelled out a little below freezing and all was well. I stayed two nights and took the 17 mile scenic tour of Monument Valley in the truck on my free day. This place is incredible with buttes and mesas rising from the desert floor in huge red sandstone formations. The cliffs are sheer and rise up to 1000’. Mitten View is on the Navajo Tribal Park property and is run by the Indian band. The Visitor Center and end of the road are right next door (another $5.00 charge) with gift shop and restaurant (closed). They sell locally made Navajo rugs in the shop and have them displayed on the walls. The price range for these went up to $12000.00, though there were some bargains, none bigger than a queen sized blanket, for $8000.00 – $9000.00. Navajo blankets, an excellent purchase for campers, were $45.00. I was tempted but don’t really need a blanket.
With cool nights, I though that I would ration battery power by using the generator, since the furnace might have had to operate (at minimum heat) just to keep the water lines thawed. Monument Valley is a very impressive place and will likely be a regular stop on future journeys.
I got to Moab, part way up eastern Utah, on March 15th and settled into Ken’s Lake, a BLM campground near a waterfall coming off the red cliffs and located some 8 miles south of town. On Saturday, my friend Darch Oborne from Merritt, BC, arrived with his friend Howard Kelly. The plan was for them to camp in tents, use the trailer as a base of operations (a term chiefly involving food, beer and rum components). The campers survived two nights of hard ground, cool temps and general hardship before making an executive decision to move into a camping cabin at Portal RV, one of the commercial parks in Moab. To be sociable, I packed up the trailer and joined them. This was probably a good move, since Howard is the next best thing to a non-biker and seeks his entertainment on the Internet playing poker – this, in addition to truck-shuttling the two of us to our various bike ride departure points. I have been to Moab before and was well aware that most of the rides were at the upper limits of my competence and general state of fitness. There are no easy trails in Moab. Everything involves a climb of a thousand vertical feet or so with trails down ranging from slickrock with ledges to cliffside singletracks with every imaginable hazard, including, but not limited to, disappearance over the edge with a landing anywhere from 500 to 1000 feet below, a manoeuvre for which even the most expensive helmet fails to prevent instant death. For those who have been to Moab, the run names might be of interest. We did Porcupine Rim, Amasa Back - with a return along the “insanely” treacherous Jackson’s Trail, Gold Bar Rim, a trip of 27miles in all - steep climbs followed by the equally notorious, vertigo-inducing”, Portal Trail. We also rode Flat Pass, which isn’t flat at all, but happened to be near Ken’s Lake and was therefore convenient. To Moabians, these are all “epic” rides. Since I walked most of the steep stuff, my epic was really just a question of survival. Midweek, I decided to take a “day off”, since I was getting worn out. This was a good opportunity to take Howard for an “easy” ride. On the map, I had spotted a short, “green” category trail called Round Mountain. The map made no mention of the fact that it was for jeeps and ATVs but definitely not for bikes, since most of it was surfaced with loose cobblestones and involved quite steep climbs into and out of several deep gullies. Even though Howard pitched off his bike about five times and ended up covered in blood, I’m sure that this ride will go down in his books as being “memorable”, if not “epic”. Luckily, my trailer is equipped with vast quantities of Hydrogen Peroxide and bandages of every description, so we managed to put Howard (I was going to say Humpty) together again without too much mess. Darch had met one of our campground hosts who offered to act as guide. On the one trip that I joined, we still wouldn’t be back in camp today if not for the local knowledge. Anyway, that’s Moab; a good time was had by all.
We left Moab yesterday, March 25th, with Darch and Howard opting for a two day push back to Merritt, me choosing the more sedate route, planning to take about five days, of which this is the second. Yesterday afternoon, I was just pulling in to Twin Falls, Idaho, for fuel and then a night in the parking lot at a Flying J Truck Stop, when, all of a sudden, an opaque red cloud of dust blew in, obliterated almost all visibility, covered everything, including the entrance to the service station with a layer of dust and threatened to blow over the canopy of the station – under which I was hiding. This dust soon turned to rain and we had a heavy downpour for a while with high winds that lasted throughout the night. I was thankful that the timing was such that I was reasonably well protected at the Flying J rather than out on the highway. My radio station interrupted whatever it was broadcasting to give a few beeps and then an emergency message saying that winds of 70 mph (over 110 kph) were expected and that all semis and RVs should get off the road. I’m still upright, as is the trailer, though the nerve-calming rum and coke that I served myself, once I got set up, managed to slop over the table as the trailer rocked and rolled in the wind.
Unless I get diverted, I should make it home by the 28th after which the annual tussle with my water pump will likely occupy much of the following week – more on that later.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
From Plomosa Road Camp 2 March 8th, 06
March 8th - still at Plomosa Road Camp 2
Hello All:
Dave and Lori Watkins, my friends from Saskatchewan (Lake Louise alumni 78’-79’) have come and gone in their motorhome (with VW camper toad). They discovered me with little difficulty using the GPS coordinates that I had provided – this despite the fact that Dave’s GPS reads every location off to the west by about 50’ from that given by my GPS. We enjoyed a three day visit during which a couple of bike rides, combined with geocaching (found G09, 10 & 13), filled in our time and gave all present plenty of exercise. One day, we did almost 15 miles, found three GO-caches and visited the Southern Cross Mine shaft. Their motor-home (1991 Holiday Rambler) has plenty of optional features, including an ice maker, bar fridge, built-in blender and various other components, all of which Dave keeps operating on his inverter and three 12V batteries. Something does not quite compute for me in terms of amps in and amps out but, it seems to work. He can always fire up his big generator if the batteries need some charging. They left from here for Lake Havasu to see the Western Pyrotechnics display of fireworks, one of the largest in the US. I decided not to go for the two hour drive but it might have been interesting.
I got the truck serviced in Parker on the 17th. Dave had mentioned that I should have the service people check the nitrates in my anti-freeze. Apparently, a lack of them can cause the motor to cavitate, thus damaging the cylinder walls. I have never heard of this before and the mechanic at Parker was unsure as well. He said that they check the specific gravity, so maybe that does the same thing?
The weather has been staying mostly clear, though there was one night with a bit of spattering recently – not enough to convince the flowers to make a showing, but….the thought was there.
A few days ago, I went in search of the GO-cache (G06) at an area known as Four Peaks, off to the NW. I found the exact co-ordinates at a Game Water enclosure set up by the wildlife people but could not locate the Cache. Since then, I have made a return trip to the site and did find the Cache – inside the fenced enclosure which had, I thought, been erected to keep people like me out. Feeling guilty about being co-opted into this illicit activity, I decided that a letter of protest to the GeoCache Website might be in order. On the way home, I passed by a monument to the Bouse Fishermen (not sure what that is all about since there isn’t a drop of water for miles around), an intaglio on a rock pedestal in a fenced area in the middle of the desert. I also climbed a small hill to discover G0 14. In all, this loop was just under 20 miles – a good day’s work. In addition, I made a loop (15 miles) to the Jewel Mine, on the side of the next valley east from the Southern Cross Mine. This is another unprotected shaft that seems to drop down a long way, judging from the rock I tossed. On another day, I climbed back to the Twin Arch Mountain (hill) for a return attempt at discovering the G0-Cache (G08) up near the top (my initial failure in the sport). This, I have now accomplished, so the overall success rate is improving.
I have been going up to the town of Parker for Internet access, groceries and other shopping purposes, including getting new brake pads for the bike. In anticipation of my visit to Moab in a couple of weeks, I had better get a grip on things, particularly the back wheel, if I want to get down some of those trails in one piece. Parker, on the Colorado River is, actually, a couple of miles further to drive to than Quartzsite but more convenient for shopping and wireless Internet access at the library there.
Darch Oborne, my friend from Merritt, has now confirmed that he and another friend, Howard Kelly, will meet me in Moab on the 18th or 19th. They are bringing tents and will camp with me at Ken’s Lake, about 7 miles south of town (N38° 29.107’ W109° 25.750’).
I have been pondering my best route north from here and think that the road through Prescott and the Prescott National Forest might be interesting. On the map it looks extremely tortuous and has elevations over 6000’, though I suspect there will be no snow. Rather than going through Sedona and on to Flagstaff (over 7000’), my option might be to go north up # 89 through the Forest to I 40, then over to Flagstaff via Williams.
My nearest neighbour here at PlmRd2, whom I had not met even though they are only 100 yds away and have been here as long as I have, came over the other day and told me about the miracle Asthma cure for him and arthritis cure for his wife that they had discovered down in Mexicali, in Mexico across the border from Calexico. He said that a doctor there, who also practices at the Mayo clinic, was able to provide medications not available in the U.S. and that the symptoms of both their ailments simply disappeared. Maybe that’s what I should consider if the hip program in BC doesn’t proceed apace.
The holding tanks have now been operating for 5 weeks since the last dump trip, so I’m hoping they will hold out until I actually make the move north in about a week. This standard of waste management is achieved only by tossing the dish water out in the bushes and visiting neighbouring cacti for all but the most pressing of washroom engagements. I could just let the grey water go in a crisis (allowed on BLM lands) but prefer the challenge of pushing my system to its limits.
Time of departure from here is a little uncertain, since I will be into cooler climes and higher elevations as soon as I leave. I am contemplating a stopover on the way somewhere near Monument Valley, on Navajo Indian land in both southern Utah and Northern Arizona. This is an area of huge monolithic rock formations rising a thousand plus feet from the desert floor. I might also return to the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park for a day or two to retake some of the five rolls of film that didn’t turn out two years ago when I first visited the area. Anyway – lots to think about, so I had better head for the library to send this message.
Incidentally, I have included a photo of the Twin Arch hill, just so that you will get an idea of the types of places that people hide their Geo-caches. G08 was right up top between the two arches.
From the news, an item struck my eye as it had to do with the Chinese aerial skiers. Apparently they don’t know about or, for reasons known only to themselves, don’t wear, mouth guards. Often, when landing, the neck gets snapped hard into the snow of the jump outrun and tongues, presumably wagging ones, have been detached. According to USA Today, this occurred in Turin a few weeks ago. Should be no complaints from that particular competitor – at least, not verbal ones!
Keep in touch
JW
Hello All:
Dave and Lori Watkins, my friends from Saskatchewan (Lake Louise alumni 78’-79’) have come and gone in their motorhome (with VW camper toad). They discovered me with little difficulty using the GPS coordinates that I had provided – this despite the fact that Dave’s GPS reads every location off to the west by about 50’ from that given by my GPS. We enjoyed a three day visit during which a couple of bike rides, combined with geocaching (found G09, 10 & 13), filled in our time and gave all present plenty of exercise. One day, we did almost 15 miles, found three GO-caches and visited the Southern Cross Mine shaft. Their motor-home (1991 Holiday Rambler) has plenty of optional features, including an ice maker, bar fridge, built-in blender and various other components, all of which Dave keeps operating on his inverter and three 12V batteries. Something does not quite compute for me in terms of amps in and amps out but, it seems to work. He can always fire up his big generator if the batteries need some charging. They left from here for Lake Havasu to see the Western Pyrotechnics display of fireworks, one of the largest in the US. I decided not to go for the two hour drive but it might have been interesting.
I got the truck serviced in Parker on the 17th. Dave had mentioned that I should have the service people check the nitrates in my anti-freeze. Apparently, a lack of them can cause the motor to cavitate, thus damaging the cylinder walls. I have never heard of this before and the mechanic at Parker was unsure as well. He said that they check the specific gravity, so maybe that does the same thing?
The weather has been staying mostly clear, though there was one night with a bit of spattering recently – not enough to convince the flowers to make a showing, but….the thought was there.
A few days ago, I went in search of the GO-cache (G06) at an area known as Four Peaks, off to the NW. I found the exact co-ordinates at a Game Water enclosure set up by the wildlife people but could not locate the Cache. Since then, I have made a return trip to the site and did find the Cache – inside the fenced enclosure which had, I thought, been erected to keep people like me out. Feeling guilty about being co-opted into this illicit activity, I decided that a letter of protest to the GeoCache Website might be in order. On the way home, I passed by a monument to the Bouse Fishermen (not sure what that is all about since there isn’t a drop of water for miles around), an intaglio on a rock pedestal in a fenced area in the middle of the desert. I also climbed a small hill to discover G0 14. In all, this loop was just under 20 miles – a good day’s work. In addition, I made a loop (15 miles) to the Jewel Mine, on the side of the next valley east from the Southern Cross Mine. This is another unprotected shaft that seems to drop down a long way, judging from the rock I tossed. On another day, I climbed back to the Twin Arch Mountain (hill) for a return attempt at discovering the G0-Cache (G08) up near the top (my initial failure in the sport). This, I have now accomplished, so the overall success rate is improving.
I have been going up to the town of Parker for Internet access, groceries and other shopping purposes, including getting new brake pads for the bike. In anticipation of my visit to Moab in a couple of weeks, I had better get a grip on things, particularly the back wheel, if I want to get down some of those trails in one piece. Parker, on the Colorado River is, actually, a couple of miles further to drive to than Quartzsite but more convenient for shopping and wireless Internet access at the library there.
Darch Oborne, my friend from Merritt, has now confirmed that he and another friend, Howard Kelly, will meet me in Moab on the 18th or 19th. They are bringing tents and will camp with me at Ken’s Lake, about 7 miles south of town (N38° 29.107’ W109° 25.750’).
I have been pondering my best route north from here and think that the road through Prescott and the Prescott National Forest might be interesting. On the map it looks extremely tortuous and has elevations over 6000’, though I suspect there will be no snow. Rather than going through Sedona and on to Flagstaff (over 7000’), my option might be to go north up # 89 through the Forest to I 40, then over to Flagstaff via Williams.
My nearest neighbour here at PlmRd2, whom I had not met even though they are only 100 yds away and have been here as long as I have, came over the other day and told me about the miracle Asthma cure for him and arthritis cure for his wife that they had discovered down in Mexicali, in Mexico across the border from Calexico. He said that a doctor there, who also practices at the Mayo clinic, was able to provide medications not available in the U.S. and that the symptoms of both their ailments simply disappeared. Maybe that’s what I should consider if the hip program in BC doesn’t proceed apace.
The holding tanks have now been operating for 5 weeks since the last dump trip, so I’m hoping they will hold out until I actually make the move north in about a week. This standard of waste management is achieved only by tossing the dish water out in the bushes and visiting neighbouring cacti for all but the most pressing of washroom engagements. I could just let the grey water go in a crisis (allowed on BLM lands) but prefer the challenge of pushing my system to its limits.
Time of departure from here is a little uncertain, since I will be into cooler climes and higher elevations as soon as I leave. I am contemplating a stopover on the way somewhere near Monument Valley, on Navajo Indian land in both southern Utah and Northern Arizona. This is an area of huge monolithic rock formations rising a thousand plus feet from the desert floor. I might also return to the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park for a day or two to retake some of the five rolls of film that didn’t turn out two years ago when I first visited the area. Anyway – lots to think about, so I had better head for the library to send this message.
Incidentally, I have included a photo of the Twin Arch hill, just so that you will get an idea of the types of places that people hide their Geo-caches. G08 was right up top between the two arches.
From the news, an item struck my eye as it had to do with the Chinese aerial skiers. Apparently they don’t know about or, for reasons known only to themselves, don’t wear, mouth guards. Often, when landing, the neck gets snapped hard into the snow of the jump outrun and tongues, presumably wagging ones, have been detached. According to USA Today, this occurred in Turin a few weeks ago. Should be no complaints from that particular competitor – at least, not verbal ones!
Keep in touch
JW
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
From Plomosa Road Camp 2 Feb 14th 2006
Feb 14th, 2006
Greetings from:
Plomosa Road Camp 2 (Plm Rd 2) N33 49.633 W114 03.145
Entrance from Highway (Plm Rd 2 Ent) N33 49.486 W114 03.490
On Jan 31st, I moved NE up Plomosa Road a few miles to this new campsite area and rejoined Ted Webber and Connie) who are camped about 150 metres away. For those trying to track me down, or locate me on Google-Earth, this camp is east off Plomosa Road (AKA the Bouse Quartzsite Highway) at a point half way between the 11 and 12 mile markers. Cell phone service here seems to switch between an analog signal and a digital one, both fairly strong. I don’t know what’s up with that but it works, so that’s all that matters. Since arriving, I have been to Bouse to visit the new library and check e-mail there (no wireless yet discovered in Bouse); also the Bouse Community Park for water and dumping ($7.00), been to Parker to the library there (good wireless signal), checked out the Arch Creek Camp (N34 10.504 W114 22.629), north of Highway 62, on the California side of the river (OK but a little exposed on a high ridge, so not that attractive) and watched the Parker 450 Desert Road Race as the circuit came within about two miles of Bouse A pall of dust hung over much of South-West Arizona following this exercise; it was noisy but reasonably exciting as high powered cars and trucks bounced their way along the track. On the way home from the race, I dropped in to see the Bouse Community art show where, surprisingly, some fairly well-known (according to the lady in the library) artists were displaying their work.
To the best of my knowledge, Bouse is known for little (or, perhaps, nothing) other than the fact that General George Patton had a tank division training camp in the area sometime prior to, and during, WW II. Interestingly enough, Patton’s presence may have cleared up one small mystery that has been concerning me. On the maps that I download into the GPS are shown some parallel dotted lines resembling a septic field but marked as trails. I have ridden this area and found few passable trails but rather, evidence of heavy machinery clearing patches of desert. It turns out that George’s tanks practiced boulder clearing here as an exercise – presumably helpful once they arrived in the ETO and had to clear rubble from the streets in bombed-out towns.
On one bike trip, I was 3.5 miles from camp when a loud bang alerted me to the fact that the rear tire on the bike had blown out its sidewall. Since I carry a spare tube but not a tire, I had to push the casualty back to the trailer, yellow anti-puncture slime squishing all the way. Luckily, enough daylight remained to see the trail. I’m not exactly sure how best to carry a spare tire with me on the bike but may have to consider this in the future. I have since replaced the tire with a new one from Herb’s Hardware In Quartzsite.
A couple of trips to the market in Q and the hip is rebelling. Walking around the exhibits in this giant flea market for hours is far harder on it than riding the bike. On my second foray into town, I picked up a shade screen to go on the front of the main awning. This will cool things down during hot weather but is too shady for now. With all the traffic and pedestrians, driving and parking in Q is very uncomfortable. Line-ups at the sewer and water stations (i.e The Pit Stop) have been enormous. At the wash (dry river bed) on the west side of the RV Show area, people, attempting to park as closely as possible to the action (mostly ex-Lake Louise skiers, I would imagine), were getting stuck in the loose sand and gravel, so I eased the truck along and managed to stay on top. With RV and Craft shows now over, the desert around Q has thinned out a little. There are plenty of people still around to see the gem and rock shows, plus various other exhibitions that keep the place busy until mid-March but the zoo atmosphere of late January has moderated.
A couple of days ago, new tire shining brightly, I set off on an expedition to the area near Mt Ibex, at 2750’ the highest peak in the area. Near its base, there are quite a few trails leading off to various mines, and, for that matter, to dead ends. At one point near the Southern Cross Mine, I met some men who were rappelling down into the nearly-vertical shaft (approx. 12’ diameter and 80° pitch). They told me that this particular pit went down about 300 – 400 feet. They had run out of rope and were planning their next move. Part of the afternoon had, apparently, been spent in clearing a crawl hole through a pile of debris that was obstructing the shaft at the 40’ level down from the surface. After making the gap, down they went, at least until the rope ran out, after which Prusiks (rope climbing knots, or in this case, mechanical devices made by Petzl) were used to climb back up. Falling objects (rocks, timbers etc) from 250 feet or more was of huge concern to these guys but did not deter them from enjoying their fun.
On my way back to camp, I decided to take a faint trail not recognized by the GPS, since it appeared to lead me in the right direction. With my customary navigational aptitude, the trail disappeared after I was far enough along not to want to retrace my steps and I ended up with a significant cross-country trek (always a mistake in this terrain) to get back to my original trail. Riding across one small draw, I ran into a large stone with the front tire and catapulted off the bike into a pile of rocks. The helmet saved my noggin and nothing else seemed too badly damaged, so I carried on, thankful that I had dodged another bullet. A couple of days later, as I was about to go for a short ride, I had to fix three punctures in my front tire, evidently just another message from the desert that travel anywhere off the beaten path can be perilous.
I have been spending some time lately, attempting to figure out the electrical loads in the trailer – this with a view to calculating the amperage draw of each individual appliance, adding them up and comparing them to the amount of input that I get from the solar panels. As a test subject, I was using my portable radio and somehow managed to blow something, with the result that it no longer works on the 12 volt system but does still operate on AC. I can find no fuse for the DC, so may have fried a diode or some equally critical component. I can use the inverter to power AC but that seems a wasteful way, meaning the use of more power than necessary with which to listen to Radio Free Quartzsite. I am going to seek advice from the solar shop in Q and see if there is an economical method of hooking up a meter to do the job. One recently noted and interesting phenomenon is that my meter reads the main trailer inverter as outputting 76 volts, the small inverter in the truck gives 98 volts. Ted Webber’s motorhome and inverter reads 109 volts – all with the same voltmeter, so something is awry. I am aware that the modified sine wave current produced by inverters can misrepresent actual voltages (because of the wave shape) so am not prepared to panic – yet! This is another reason to get some advice from the solar/battery guy. Since writing the above, I have made my trip to Q and, after hunting around, bought a small inverter (150 watts) at Discount Solar- this for use with the radio while I am restricted to AC power. It makes the radio hum on weak signals, which means that my favourite oldies station in Q is unavailable from the present location. Otherwise, it seems to work OK and uses only a fraction of an amp in power (alone), more with the radio on. I preferred the system with direct 12 V connection (better signal and less power usage) and hope, someday, to get that resolved. The kid at the local Radio Shack sounded knowledgeable as he speculated that I probably blew a diode ( I think that my radio contains about a billion) – almost impossible to track down with a meter, so I may be stuck with the situation as is or until I get another radio.
Dave and Lori Watkins, former Lake Louisers who now farm in southern Saskatchewan, are coming by on the 15th with their motorhome en route back home. I have given them the coordinates both for the camp site and entry off Plomosa Road, so they should have no trouble getting here. Ted Webber and Connie are still across the wash and their friend, Cline, who I met at Plomosa Road Camp 1, arrived from where he had been boondocking on Ogilvy Road west of Yuma. He has since departed for greener pastures. He said that they had suffered high winds down there whereas, here, it has been relatively calm. Ted Webber may move over to the Pegleg BLM camp area at Borrego Springs in about a week. It is in the wrong direction for me and certainly out of my path if I decide to return home via Moab next month but, I’ll think on it before making up my mind. Another option for returning home would be to go back up the Oregon Coast, a trip that I did several years ago. If that were the case, then Borrego would make a good staging point.
The following may only appeal to those of you who have GPS’s but, since I know that there are many of you out there who do navigate with help from above, I’ll just include a little section on my latest thoughts about transposing information from the GPS to the computer and vice versa. For a while after getting my GPS, I was saving and storing all the bits of information (Waypoints, Routes and Tracks) in a haphazard manner in the computer. Recognizing that this level of disorganization would soon exceed my ability to make sense of it, I decided to delete most of the individual files and have now concentrated all information in three Mapsets (more to come as I travel further afield). When the GPS downloads, it does so into an “untitled” file. From there, I copy Waypoints and tracks to the relevant mapset. All Waypoints also get copied to the master Waypoint file in Garmin Western North America Maps, so that I have one list of all Waypoints and can look up anything if required. One of the problems is that all Waypoints have to have different names, since the file will only accept one of each name. In addition, Waypoint names have to be short enough to fit into the GPS. If the program thinks a name is too long, it simply assigns a number, regardless of what name I might have typed in. I can see how, with time, I am going to lose track of the various Waypoint names and will have to streamline the filing methodology somehow. To add a new element to the GPS saga, I am going to go Geocaching – that is, searching for objects that people have hidden in various places and have then listed on the Internet. The plan is to find such a “cache” by going to the position co-ordinates that have been issued, enter one’s name in the log, exchange some article put in the cache by a previous searcher with something else and limp home.
Yesterday, we (Ted, Connie and I) went Geocaching. They had downloaded some sites off the Internet (which they access through their cell phone) and had all the positions marked. The two nearest positions to our camp were across the road and about .6 of a mile away. We attacked G07 first. It was up at the top of a climb of maybe 250 vertical feet and rated 4-2 (don’t know what the numbers stand for, except that, in some way, they relate to the degree of difficulty of the “trail” and, perhaps, the amount of ingenuity used in hiding the cache). The 4-2 rating gave me a strenuous climb up rock and scree to a ridge where I found the cache, a cookie tin hidden under some rocks. Inside, were small, miscellaneous items and a logbook with pencil for recording one’s “find”. In theory, one leaves an item in the tin and takes an item out – this to be traded at the next Geocache. The second Geocache (G08) was up at the top of an even bigger hill (rated 4-4) and I never did find it. At the location indicated by my GPS, I found a can of Bud wedged into a crack in the rock but nothing else. Either vandals got to it first or I had the wrong site. One of the problems with searching for GPS coordinates is that, without an accurate elevation listing, the bottom of a vertical cliff will read much the same position as the top. In all, there are about a dozen Geocaches within biking/walking distance of where I am camped, so I can see myself adding a hunt component to the bike rides from now on.
On Friday, the Little Cactus Restaurant, also known as the Wagonwheel Café, in Bouse, offered a menu special of all the fish one could eat for $6.95. Only one serving of chips and slaw was included in the deal so it was necessary to ration the latter items or beg leftovers from someone else’s plate. Despite being a one-horse town (though the highway is quite busy), the place was filling up by 5.00 in the afternoon. Where all the people came from I don’t know but they must have crawled out from under rocks all over the desert.
The skies are still clear and temps, most days, are in the mid-70s. Night time lows get down into the 40s so, it’s a very pleasant climate at this time of the year. There hasn’t been a drop of moisture since I arrived in early December and, if it remains dry, I expect that the desert flower show will fail to materialize as it did last year when we experienced several storms with plenty of rain showers.
The Olympics are now on TV but the focus in papers here seems more concentrated on speculation as to whether Wayne Gretzky will coach the Canadian hockey team, since wife Janet has become embroiled in the sports gambling scandal – with mafia overtones, yet! If nothing else, Canada gets a little extra recognition. Since Gretzky coaches the Phoenix Coyote team, Arizonans (the few that pay any attention to hockey) are at least familiar with the Great One. It was with some pride that I watched my old friend, Alberto Tomba, carry the Olympic torch in Turin. To think that, by tossing him off the ski hill years ago, we at Lake Louise may have played some role in his personal development, is highly gratifying. Evidently, he still has icon status in Italy, though there was no mention on TV as to whether he had received early parole to attend the ceremonies – just joking, of course.
JW
Greetings from:
Plomosa Road Camp 2 (Plm Rd 2) N33 49.633 W114 03.145
Entrance from Highway (Plm Rd 2 Ent) N33 49.486 W114 03.490
On Jan 31st, I moved NE up Plomosa Road a few miles to this new campsite area and rejoined Ted Webber and Connie) who are camped about 150 metres away. For those trying to track me down, or locate me on Google-Earth, this camp is east off Plomosa Road (AKA the Bouse Quartzsite Highway) at a point half way between the 11 and 12 mile markers. Cell phone service here seems to switch between an analog signal and a digital one, both fairly strong. I don’t know what’s up with that but it works, so that’s all that matters. Since arriving, I have been to Bouse to visit the new library and check e-mail there (no wireless yet discovered in Bouse); also the Bouse Community Park for water and dumping ($7.00), been to Parker to the library there (good wireless signal), checked out the Arch Creek Camp (N34 10.504 W114 22.629), north of Highway 62, on the California side of the river (OK but a little exposed on a high ridge, so not that attractive) and watched the Parker 450 Desert Road Race as the circuit came within about two miles of Bouse A pall of dust hung over much of South-West Arizona following this exercise; it was noisy but reasonably exciting as high powered cars and trucks bounced their way along the track. On the way home from the race, I dropped in to see the Bouse Community art show where, surprisingly, some fairly well-known (according to the lady in the library) artists were displaying their work.
To the best of my knowledge, Bouse is known for little (or, perhaps, nothing) other than the fact that General George Patton had a tank division training camp in the area sometime prior to, and during, WW II. Interestingly enough, Patton’s presence may have cleared up one small mystery that has been concerning me. On the maps that I download into the GPS are shown some parallel dotted lines resembling a septic field but marked as trails. I have ridden this area and found few passable trails but rather, evidence of heavy machinery clearing patches of desert. It turns out that George’s tanks practiced boulder clearing here as an exercise – presumably helpful once they arrived in the ETO and had to clear rubble from the streets in bombed-out towns.
On one bike trip, I was 3.5 miles from camp when a loud bang alerted me to the fact that the rear tire on the bike had blown out its sidewall. Since I carry a spare tube but not a tire, I had to push the casualty back to the trailer, yellow anti-puncture slime squishing all the way. Luckily, enough daylight remained to see the trail. I’m not exactly sure how best to carry a spare tire with me on the bike but may have to consider this in the future. I have since replaced the tire with a new one from Herb’s Hardware In Quartzsite.
A couple of trips to the market in Q and the hip is rebelling. Walking around the exhibits in this giant flea market for hours is far harder on it than riding the bike. On my second foray into town, I picked up a shade screen to go on the front of the main awning. This will cool things down during hot weather but is too shady for now. With all the traffic and pedestrians, driving and parking in Q is very uncomfortable. Line-ups at the sewer and water stations (i.e The Pit Stop) have been enormous. At the wash (dry river bed) on the west side of the RV Show area, people, attempting to park as closely as possible to the action (mostly ex-Lake Louise skiers, I would imagine), were getting stuck in the loose sand and gravel, so I eased the truck along and managed to stay on top. With RV and Craft shows now over, the desert around Q has thinned out a little. There are plenty of people still around to see the gem and rock shows, plus various other exhibitions that keep the place busy until mid-March but the zoo atmosphere of late January has moderated.
A couple of days ago, new tire shining brightly, I set off on an expedition to the area near Mt Ibex, at 2750’ the highest peak in the area. Near its base, there are quite a few trails leading off to various mines, and, for that matter, to dead ends. At one point near the Southern Cross Mine, I met some men who were rappelling down into the nearly-vertical shaft (approx. 12’ diameter and 80° pitch). They told me that this particular pit went down about 300 – 400 feet. They had run out of rope and were planning their next move. Part of the afternoon had, apparently, been spent in clearing a crawl hole through a pile of debris that was obstructing the shaft at the 40’ level down from the surface. After making the gap, down they went, at least until the rope ran out, after which Prusiks (rope climbing knots, or in this case, mechanical devices made by Petzl) were used to climb back up. Falling objects (rocks, timbers etc) from 250 feet or more was of huge concern to these guys but did not deter them from enjoying their fun.
On my way back to camp, I decided to take a faint trail not recognized by the GPS, since it appeared to lead me in the right direction. With my customary navigational aptitude, the trail disappeared after I was far enough along not to want to retrace my steps and I ended up with a significant cross-country trek (always a mistake in this terrain) to get back to my original trail. Riding across one small draw, I ran into a large stone with the front tire and catapulted off the bike into a pile of rocks. The helmet saved my noggin and nothing else seemed too badly damaged, so I carried on, thankful that I had dodged another bullet. A couple of days later, as I was about to go for a short ride, I had to fix three punctures in my front tire, evidently just another message from the desert that travel anywhere off the beaten path can be perilous.
I have been spending some time lately, attempting to figure out the electrical loads in the trailer – this with a view to calculating the amperage draw of each individual appliance, adding them up and comparing them to the amount of input that I get from the solar panels. As a test subject, I was using my portable radio and somehow managed to blow something, with the result that it no longer works on the 12 volt system but does still operate on AC. I can find no fuse for the DC, so may have fried a diode or some equally critical component. I can use the inverter to power AC but that seems a wasteful way, meaning the use of more power than necessary with which to listen to Radio Free Quartzsite. I am going to seek advice from the solar shop in Q and see if there is an economical method of hooking up a meter to do the job. One recently noted and interesting phenomenon is that my meter reads the main trailer inverter as outputting 76 volts, the small inverter in the truck gives 98 volts. Ted Webber’s motorhome and inverter reads 109 volts – all with the same voltmeter, so something is awry. I am aware that the modified sine wave current produced by inverters can misrepresent actual voltages (because of the wave shape) so am not prepared to panic – yet! This is another reason to get some advice from the solar/battery guy. Since writing the above, I have made my trip to Q and, after hunting around, bought a small inverter (150 watts) at Discount Solar- this for use with the radio while I am restricted to AC power. It makes the radio hum on weak signals, which means that my favourite oldies station in Q is unavailable from the present location. Otherwise, it seems to work OK and uses only a fraction of an amp in power (alone), more with the radio on. I preferred the system with direct 12 V connection (better signal and less power usage) and hope, someday, to get that resolved. The kid at the local Radio Shack sounded knowledgeable as he speculated that I probably blew a diode ( I think that my radio contains about a billion) – almost impossible to track down with a meter, so I may be stuck with the situation as is or until I get another radio.
Dave and Lori Watkins, former Lake Louisers who now farm in southern Saskatchewan, are coming by on the 15th with their motorhome en route back home. I have given them the coordinates both for the camp site and entry off Plomosa Road, so they should have no trouble getting here. Ted Webber and Connie are still across the wash and their friend, Cline, who I met at Plomosa Road Camp 1, arrived from where he had been boondocking on Ogilvy Road west of Yuma. He has since departed for greener pastures. He said that they had suffered high winds down there whereas, here, it has been relatively calm. Ted Webber may move over to the Pegleg BLM camp area at Borrego Springs in about a week. It is in the wrong direction for me and certainly out of my path if I decide to return home via Moab next month but, I’ll think on it before making up my mind. Another option for returning home would be to go back up the Oregon Coast, a trip that I did several years ago. If that were the case, then Borrego would make a good staging point.
The following may only appeal to those of you who have GPS’s but, since I know that there are many of you out there who do navigate with help from above, I’ll just include a little section on my latest thoughts about transposing information from the GPS to the computer and vice versa. For a while after getting my GPS, I was saving and storing all the bits of information (Waypoints, Routes and Tracks) in a haphazard manner in the computer. Recognizing that this level of disorganization would soon exceed my ability to make sense of it, I decided to delete most of the individual files and have now concentrated all information in three Mapsets (more to come as I travel further afield). When the GPS downloads, it does so into an “untitled” file. From there, I copy Waypoints and tracks to the relevant mapset. All Waypoints also get copied to the master Waypoint file in Garmin Western North America Maps, so that I have one list of all Waypoints and can look up anything if required. One of the problems is that all Waypoints have to have different names, since the file will only accept one of each name. In addition, Waypoint names have to be short enough to fit into the GPS. If the program thinks a name is too long, it simply assigns a number, regardless of what name I might have typed in. I can see how, with time, I am going to lose track of the various Waypoint names and will have to streamline the filing methodology somehow. To add a new element to the GPS saga, I am going to go Geocaching – that is, searching for objects that people have hidden in various places and have then listed on the Internet. The plan is to find such a “cache” by going to the position co-ordinates that have been issued, enter one’s name in the log, exchange some article put in the cache by a previous searcher with something else and limp home.
Yesterday, we (Ted, Connie and I) went Geocaching. They had downloaded some sites off the Internet (which they access through their cell phone) and had all the positions marked. The two nearest positions to our camp were across the road and about .6 of a mile away. We attacked G07 first. It was up at the top of a climb of maybe 250 vertical feet and rated 4-2 (don’t know what the numbers stand for, except that, in some way, they relate to the degree of difficulty of the “trail” and, perhaps, the amount of ingenuity used in hiding the cache). The 4-2 rating gave me a strenuous climb up rock and scree to a ridge where I found the cache, a cookie tin hidden under some rocks. Inside, were small, miscellaneous items and a logbook with pencil for recording one’s “find”. In theory, one leaves an item in the tin and takes an item out – this to be traded at the next Geocache. The second Geocache (G08) was up at the top of an even bigger hill (rated 4-4) and I never did find it. At the location indicated by my GPS, I found a can of Bud wedged into a crack in the rock but nothing else. Either vandals got to it first or I had the wrong site. One of the problems with searching for GPS coordinates is that, without an accurate elevation listing, the bottom of a vertical cliff will read much the same position as the top. In all, there are about a dozen Geocaches within biking/walking distance of where I am camped, so I can see myself adding a hunt component to the bike rides from now on.
On Friday, the Little Cactus Restaurant, also known as the Wagonwheel Café, in Bouse, offered a menu special of all the fish one could eat for $6.95. Only one serving of chips and slaw was included in the deal so it was necessary to ration the latter items or beg leftovers from someone else’s plate. Despite being a one-horse town (though the highway is quite busy), the place was filling up by 5.00 in the afternoon. Where all the people came from I don’t know but they must have crawled out from under rocks all over the desert.
The skies are still clear and temps, most days, are in the mid-70s. Night time lows get down into the 40s so, it’s a very pleasant climate at this time of the year. There hasn’t been a drop of moisture since I arrived in early December and, if it remains dry, I expect that the desert flower show will fail to materialize as it did last year when we experienced several storms with plenty of rain showers.
The Olympics are now on TV but the focus in papers here seems more concentrated on speculation as to whether Wayne Gretzky will coach the Canadian hockey team, since wife Janet has become embroiled in the sports gambling scandal – with mafia overtones, yet! If nothing else, Canada gets a little extra recognition. Since Gretzky coaches the Phoenix Coyote team, Arizonans (the few that pay any attention to hockey) are at least familiar with the Great One. It was with some pride that I watched my old friend, Alberto Tomba, carry the Olympic torch in Turin. To think that, by tossing him off the ski hill years ago, we at Lake Louise may have played some role in his personal development, is highly gratifying. Evidently, he still has icon status in Italy, though there was no mention on TV as to whether he had received early parole to attend the ceremonies – just joking, of course.
JW
January 26th 2006
From Plomosa Road – Quartzsite
N 33° 46.023’ W 114° 10.339’
From the remote, calm, and pristine desert setting of Mica Mine Road, in the hills west of Ajo, to the sardine-like proximity of a half million or so RVers visiting Quartzsite for the annual RV show comes as quite a culture shock. Anyway, that’s where I am, having eluded smugglers, fended off “illegales” and played scrabble with locals back at my last location on Mica Mine Road. Actually, I saw no smugglers or illegales during my stay there but did play scrabble.
One or two of you have noted (with some relish) what you considered might be a discrepancy in my method of describing GPS positions. Sorry to disappoint the gloaters but, as there is more than one way to skin a cat, so too are there several options for writing GPS positions. To clarify:
One could write down the degrees, minutes and seconds (to the closest tenth of a second)
i.e 32°19’ 49.7”
I think that this equates to accuracy within one thirty six-thousandth of a degree (approx. 10 feet)
One could write down the degrees and percentage of degrees to the nearest hundred-thousandth of a degree (most accurate to within 3.7 feet)
i.e. 32.33050°
Or one could do what I do and that is to write the degrees, followed by minutes to the nearest thousandth (3 decimals).
i.e. 32°19.835’
This method gives good accuracy to within a little over 6 feet and is equivalent to one sixty-thousandth of a degree. Since the GPS itself is accurate only within 15 feet or so, any closer really doesn’t matter.
Thanks go out to Neil McKendrick for pointing out that there appeared to be a discrepancy between the system that I was using and the one utilized by Google Earth. This latter, one can look up on the Internet, input co-ordinates and come up with a picture of where I am. I’m not sure if the Golden Falcon itself can be spotted but Neil advises that he can see his house in Calgary. In any case, the lay of the land is out there for anyone with a computer and Internet access to view.
On Jan 6th, I went to Ajo and visited the Museum, since my new friends (man with shotgun, lady with oranges) were on volunteer duty. They (Gayle and Don Weyers from Wisconsin and now Ajo) were about to have a tuna sandwich lunch but lacked a can opener. Prepared, as always, I hauled out one of my several Swiss-army knives and got to work. For this, I received a complimentary lunch with my free museum visit so a good deal was had by all. The Weyers threatened to come out and camp in my area some night, scrabble board in hand, a plan that has since materialized. I played a couple of losing games (who would have known that “Aa” was a word for lava?) in the sun one morning in front of their tent, not too far from my campsite and then went off on the bike to inspect a seemingly bottomless hole in the ground (an old mine site that Don had told me about).
For some time, the bicycle had been showing signs of age, abuse, or a combination of the two. When I put strain on the chain while in middle gear of the front sprocket, the chain would roll off with a clatter leaving the opposite knee to whack the handlebars with a thud. Other than being an excellent test for the reflexes to see if I could anticipate the separation in time to stop pedalling, this scenario courted almost certain disaster since, with only one foot remaining on its pedal, I tended to topple off to the other side. A close examination of the components in question revealed that said sprocket was severely worn and needed replacement.
I finished my stay at Mica Mine on Jan 17th and headed for Quartzsite, via Yuma to visit Mr. B’s bike shop. A day or two previously, I had run into the Percys, now back from Canada, at the Internet Deli in Ajo. They told me about Mr B’s having a Foothill’s Road store, not far from the east end of town. By the time Mr. B finished, the bike was running smoothly again with new front sprocket and new (used) rear cassette, along with a new chain. Unfortunately, the knee (in line behind the hip) isn’t up for replacement yet, so will have to heal itself.
In Yuma, or rather, outside Yuma, I checked into various campsites that had been suggested by Gerry Percy. Following his instructions to Fortuna Pond, I managed to locate the pond itself but all sites along the edge were full of fishermen, on the hunt for elusive crappie and other species that are stocked by the AZ Fish and Wildlife Department. Someone I met told me that all fish die in the summer because it is so hot (average daily temps in July and August reach 105° - 110°). The first of Gerry’s sites that I had marked on the map was in the middle of a broccoli field (GPS error, no doubt) – a healthy environment, I am sure, but one in which the farmer might have been a little upset to have my truck and trailer stuck up to the axles in his irrigation ditches. Yuma is the US hub for winter vegetable growing and crops of lettuce, broccoli and other greenery are everywhere. The farms employ masses of Mexican labourers, some of whom may have walked by my trailer in the middle of the night. In the end, I managed to find my way to Yuma Lakes (aka Redonda Lake) and settled in the moondust of the 14 day BLM there – N 32° 44.564’ W 114° 28.850’. Moondust is a category of dust that is very light and slowly billows upwards when anything disturbs it. It is so named from the pictures of Neil Armstrong jumping on the moon’s surface many moons ago. Unlike the moon, rain changes the billowing moondust to wallowing mud, so camper beware – this could be a real trailer trap. No rain on my horizons, however (not a cloud to date for most of my stay in the south this winter), so I encamped in the dust for a couple of days. Yuma Lake is not a very attractive spot unless one obtains a place on the upper deck, overlooking the lake itself. There are only a few spaces there, so chances are low that one would be available. For two days, however, it was a place to stay within range of the city, so I didn’t really care. With bicycle purring, I moved north to Plomosa Road (BLM signpost 815), found Ted Webber and Connie, along with a billion (slight exaggeration) other people, including their friend Cline who hosts at an RV camp area in Eastern Utah during the summer months and spends winters in Arizona. I have been for a couple of bike rides in both directions from the camp, mounted the new bike computer that I bought from Mr. B (the old one succumbed to a malaise consisting of multiple fractures and an uprooted electrical connection), to check it out against the GPS – the GPS reads less mileage (today’s trip 7.04 v:s 7.20 miles) than on the computer. I have checked and double checked the tire size and computer setting for that size but have no answer for this anomaly. It may be something to do with the tire doing some extra spinning without forward motion, though that sounds slightly incredible, since it is a front tire - will have to work on this one.
Temps have lowered considerably since leaving the Ajo area. Nights are close to freezing again with daytime highs in the 60s – pleasant for bike riding and, for energy conservation, staying under bedcovers in the mornings until the sun hits my skylight and begins to heat the trailer interior. Many motor home groups are out here in the desert. ½ million dollar buses camping for free may seem a bit odd but there is room for these groups to congregate and enjoy activities which might not be possible in a regular RV park setting. Our nearest collective is the Alpine Coach Association, a gathering of about a hundred coaches. They hold seminars and conduct group activities of various kinds. Yesterday (Jan 22nd), I went in to Q to take a look at the big RV show tent and displays. The numbers of people and lack of parking are good reasons to seek out remote areas as I do and avoid better known boondocking haunts like Quartzsite. In any event, the show itself was interesting with lots of good stuff on display. I managed to resist the impulse to buy anything other than a hot dog that took ½ hour to manufacture. The only memory to remind me of the day in town is a sore hip from all the walking The Internet Café is still operating on Main Street (actually, there are now two), so I was able to check e-mails from the parking lot across the street. There are quite a few Internet dishes on motor homes out at Plomosa Road but, to this point, I have been unable to connect to one of them. With a little driving around, I’m sure that I could find someone with an open signal.
My new neighbours, Ted and Connie, moved off today to another location further along Plomosa Road on the Bouse side of the pass. I shall join them in a few days, once the allure of Quartzsite has worn thin. The new site ought to be at approximately (within 6’) N33 49.634 W114 03.368.
Efforts to vote in our Canadian election proved fruitless. I had been told that there was a way to download forms from the Internet, get them verified at a consulate and send them in. All this seemed very time consuming so, for the first time, I didn’t vote. As it happens, the mayor of Salmon Arm got voted in as a Conservative MP. I have met him and think that I would have voted for him anyway – my conscience is now clear.
On the general interest front, there are two items that have caught my eye. Both are from USA Today.
Zhao Ziyang was a Chinese reformer who died in the 1980s. The other day, some people were arrested and jailed for observing the anniversary of his death. It struck me that having the Olympics in Beijing opens the door to opportunities for scandal, possibly in excess of those that plagued Salt Lake City, with involvement from the French judge, our Canadian Pairs skaters, Salé and Pelletier along with the corrupt management of the International Skating Federation. In China, it would be simple for the Chinese to savour gold while foreign athletes languish in jail – or is that too harsh?
American “dry foot laws” were put to test last week when several Cubans landed on an abandoned bridge piling somewhere in the Florida Keys. They were returned to Cuba after officials determined that the piling did not constitute dry land under US policy. Cubans who reach “land” are allowed to stay and apply for refugee status; those caught off-shore get returned to Cuba. Maybe, installation of a whole lot of pilings off the coast of BC would alleviate our Chinese refugee problems?
JW
From Plomosa Road – Quartzsite
N 33° 46.023’ W 114° 10.339’
From the remote, calm, and pristine desert setting of Mica Mine Road, in the hills west of Ajo, to the sardine-like proximity of a half million or so RVers visiting Quartzsite for the annual RV show comes as quite a culture shock. Anyway, that’s where I am, having eluded smugglers, fended off “illegales” and played scrabble with locals back at my last location on Mica Mine Road. Actually, I saw no smugglers or illegales during my stay there but did play scrabble.
One or two of you have noted (with some relish) what you considered might be a discrepancy in my method of describing GPS positions. Sorry to disappoint the gloaters but, as there is more than one way to skin a cat, so too are there several options for writing GPS positions. To clarify:
One could write down the degrees, minutes and seconds (to the closest tenth of a second)
i.e 32°19’ 49.7”
I think that this equates to accuracy within one thirty six-thousandth of a degree (approx. 10 feet)
One could write down the degrees and percentage of degrees to the nearest hundred-thousandth of a degree (most accurate to within 3.7 feet)
i.e. 32.33050°
Or one could do what I do and that is to write the degrees, followed by minutes to the nearest thousandth (3 decimals).
i.e. 32°19.835’
This method gives good accuracy to within a little over 6 feet and is equivalent to one sixty-thousandth of a degree. Since the GPS itself is accurate only within 15 feet or so, any closer really doesn’t matter.
Thanks go out to Neil McKendrick for pointing out that there appeared to be a discrepancy between the system that I was using and the one utilized by Google Earth. This latter, one can look up on the Internet, input co-ordinates and come up with a picture of where I am. I’m not sure if the Golden Falcon itself can be spotted but Neil advises that he can see his house in Calgary. In any case, the lay of the land is out there for anyone with a computer and Internet access to view.
On Jan 6th, I went to Ajo and visited the Museum, since my new friends (man with shotgun, lady with oranges) were on volunteer duty. They (Gayle and Don Weyers from Wisconsin and now Ajo) were about to have a tuna sandwich lunch but lacked a can opener. Prepared, as always, I hauled out one of my several Swiss-army knives and got to work. For this, I received a complimentary lunch with my free museum visit so a good deal was had by all. The Weyers threatened to come out and camp in my area some night, scrabble board in hand, a plan that has since materialized. I played a couple of losing games (who would have known that “Aa” was a word for lava?) in the sun one morning in front of their tent, not too far from my campsite and then went off on the bike to inspect a seemingly bottomless hole in the ground (an old mine site that Don had told me about).
For some time, the bicycle had been showing signs of age, abuse, or a combination of the two. When I put strain on the chain while in middle gear of the front sprocket, the chain would roll off with a clatter leaving the opposite knee to whack the handlebars with a thud. Other than being an excellent test for the reflexes to see if I could anticipate the separation in time to stop pedalling, this scenario courted almost certain disaster since, with only one foot remaining on its pedal, I tended to topple off to the other side. A close examination of the components in question revealed that said sprocket was severely worn and needed replacement.
I finished my stay at Mica Mine on Jan 17th and headed for Quartzsite, via Yuma to visit Mr. B’s bike shop. A day or two previously, I had run into the Percys, now back from Canada, at the Internet Deli in Ajo. They told me about Mr B’s having a Foothill’s Road store, not far from the east end of town. By the time Mr. B finished, the bike was running smoothly again with new front sprocket and new (used) rear cassette, along with a new chain. Unfortunately, the knee (in line behind the hip) isn’t up for replacement yet, so will have to heal itself.
In Yuma, or rather, outside Yuma, I checked into various campsites that had been suggested by Gerry Percy. Following his instructions to Fortuna Pond, I managed to locate the pond itself but all sites along the edge were full of fishermen, on the hunt for elusive crappie and other species that are stocked by the AZ Fish and Wildlife Department. Someone I met told me that all fish die in the summer because it is so hot (average daily temps in July and August reach 105° - 110°). The first of Gerry’s sites that I had marked on the map was in the middle of a broccoli field (GPS error, no doubt) – a healthy environment, I am sure, but one in which the farmer might have been a little upset to have my truck and trailer stuck up to the axles in his irrigation ditches. Yuma is the US hub for winter vegetable growing and crops of lettuce, broccoli and other greenery are everywhere. The farms employ masses of Mexican labourers, some of whom may have walked by my trailer in the middle of the night. In the end, I managed to find my way to Yuma Lakes (aka Redonda Lake) and settled in the moondust of the 14 day BLM there – N 32° 44.564’ W 114° 28.850’. Moondust is a category of dust that is very light and slowly billows upwards when anything disturbs it. It is so named from the pictures of Neil Armstrong jumping on the moon’s surface many moons ago. Unlike the moon, rain changes the billowing moondust to wallowing mud, so camper beware – this could be a real trailer trap. No rain on my horizons, however (not a cloud to date for most of my stay in the south this winter), so I encamped in the dust for a couple of days. Yuma Lake is not a very attractive spot unless one obtains a place on the upper deck, overlooking the lake itself. There are only a few spaces there, so chances are low that one would be available. For two days, however, it was a place to stay within range of the city, so I didn’t really care. With bicycle purring, I moved north to Plomosa Road (BLM signpost 815), found Ted Webber and Connie, along with a billion (slight exaggeration) other people, including their friend Cline who hosts at an RV camp area in Eastern Utah during the summer months and spends winters in Arizona. I have been for a couple of bike rides in both directions from the camp, mounted the new bike computer that I bought from Mr. B (the old one succumbed to a malaise consisting of multiple fractures and an uprooted electrical connection), to check it out against the GPS – the GPS reads less mileage (today’s trip 7.04 v:s 7.20 miles) than on the computer. I have checked and double checked the tire size and computer setting for that size but have no answer for this anomaly. It may be something to do with the tire doing some extra spinning without forward motion, though that sounds slightly incredible, since it is a front tire - will have to work on this one.
Temps have lowered considerably since leaving the Ajo area. Nights are close to freezing again with daytime highs in the 60s – pleasant for bike riding and, for energy conservation, staying under bedcovers in the mornings until the sun hits my skylight and begins to heat the trailer interior. Many motor home groups are out here in the desert. ½ million dollar buses camping for free may seem a bit odd but there is room for these groups to congregate and enjoy activities which might not be possible in a regular RV park setting. Our nearest collective is the Alpine Coach Association, a gathering of about a hundred coaches. They hold seminars and conduct group activities of various kinds. Yesterday (Jan 22nd), I went in to Q to take a look at the big RV show tent and displays. The numbers of people and lack of parking are good reasons to seek out remote areas as I do and avoid better known boondocking haunts like Quartzsite. In any event, the show itself was interesting with lots of good stuff on display. I managed to resist the impulse to buy anything other than a hot dog that took ½ hour to manufacture. The only memory to remind me of the day in town is a sore hip from all the walking The Internet Café is still operating on Main Street (actually, there are now two), so I was able to check e-mails from the parking lot across the street. There are quite a few Internet dishes on motor homes out at Plomosa Road but, to this point, I have been unable to connect to one of them. With a little driving around, I’m sure that I could find someone with an open signal.
My new neighbours, Ted and Connie, moved off today to another location further along Plomosa Road on the Bouse side of the pass. I shall join them in a few days, once the allure of Quartzsite has worn thin. The new site ought to be at approximately (within 6’) N33 49.634 W114 03.368.
Efforts to vote in our Canadian election proved fruitless. I had been told that there was a way to download forms from the Internet, get them verified at a consulate and send them in. All this seemed very time consuming so, for the first time, I didn’t vote. As it happens, the mayor of Salmon Arm got voted in as a Conservative MP. I have met him and think that I would have voted for him anyway – my conscience is now clear.
On the general interest front, there are two items that have caught my eye. Both are from USA Today.
Zhao Ziyang was a Chinese reformer who died in the 1980s. The other day, some people were arrested and jailed for observing the anniversary of his death. It struck me that having the Olympics in Beijing opens the door to opportunities for scandal, possibly in excess of those that plagued Salt Lake City, with involvement from the French judge, our Canadian Pairs skaters, Salé and Pelletier along with the corrupt management of the International Skating Federation. In China, it would be simple for the Chinese to savour gold while foreign athletes languish in jail – or is that too harsh?
American “dry foot laws” were put to test last week when several Cubans landed on an abandoned bridge piling somewhere in the Florida Keys. They were returned to Cuba after officials determined that the piling did not constitute dry land under US policy. Cubans who reach “land” are allowed to stay and apply for refugee status; those caught off-shore get returned to Cuba. Maybe, installation of a whole lot of pilings off the coast of BC would alleviate our Chinese refugee problems?
JW
Friday, January 06, 2006
From Mica Mine Road Camp Jan 6th 2006
Jan 6th 2005
From Mica Mine Road Camp 3 32 19.835/112 54.013
Turnoff 32 19.711/ 112 54.063
Hello All:
It seems a long time since I last wrote from Craggy Wash but, with so much to do and so little time, things just get delayed. After spending the entire winter budget on new brakes, trailer batteries and my GPS up in Lake Havasu, I travelled south-east to Why and one of my regular campsites at Gunsight Wash. Because I know that some of you out there in group e-mail land may try to find a few of the places that I visit, and also because I need to do something useful with my new toy, I shall be writing down the positions of all campsites as they crop up in conversation from now on, as well as entry points off the nearest roads where possible. Therefore, the co-ordinates of Gunsight Wash would be written as:
Gunsight Camp site -------------- (N32 14.423’ W112 45.510’)
Turnoff from Highway 85 -------- (N32 14.345’ W112 45.018’)
I travelled down from Havasu on the 21st in good weather – sunny skies and mild temps, which, at one point near Gila Bend, hit 80°. My friends, the Percys were in residence at their usual spot in Gunsight, having arrived several days earlier.
Propane up in Gila Bend at the Shell was a shocker - $19 for a fill-up – am glad temps require no heating at the moment.
I thought that I had slipped back in time the other day when, as I was driving down from Havasu. I heard those immortal words – “hello, skiers and snowboarders”, on the radio. Apparently, the areas around Flagstaff had some snow and were up and running with new advertising on the local radio station. It seems a little strange to be talking about skiing down here where temps are close to 80° every day now as we experience a mini-heat wave.
I was at Gunsight for two weeks and camped adjacent (within sand wedge range) to the Percys. We enjoyed a few bike rides, had the daily happy hour campfire and turkey with all the “fixins” on Christmas Day. They have returned to Canada for 10 days, having stored their trailer (hopefully) within range of the Phoenix Airport. They should be back in the south before long, so maybe we’ll meet up again. The sunsets at Gunsight have been spectacular this year. It is hard to put down the camera as the light changes every few minutes each evening. I have put a few pics in the computer and I’m sure that there will be more to come.
On Jan 4th, my allotted two week period at Gunsight was up so I moved to a new spot. Mica Mine Road, aka Cemetary Road, is in the hills west of Ajo and travels from the Ajo scenic Loop to a closed gate into the Cabeza Prieta Wilderness a few miles past my camp area. I left Gunsight, dumped and watered at the Golden Hassan Casino – host lady absent, so will have to return to pay the $10.00 fee - then got propane at Flores Brothers in Why and headed for the my new spot. This is as scenic an area as anywhere that I have camped – very quiet and seemingly remote despite being only a few miles as the crow flies from Ajo. The “road” is a bull low, washed out, slow creeping goat track in spots, so I was a little concerned as to whether I could manage it safely with the trailer in tow. On a previous visit with the bicycle, however, I had seen a fifth-wheel camped at the site where I am presently ensconced. It was at least as big as mine, so I knew that the mission was possible. At first, I was tempted to take one of the sites closer to the main Ajo Loop but decided, in the end, that the day was long; I had little else to do and would not sleep well unless I tried to make it into this particular site. In the end, I succeeded with little difficulty, having avoided the hurling of plates and cups from their cupboard shelves, an occurrence that frequently marks my passage over rough terrain. Over the years, I have pretty well replaced anything breakable with plastic or Corningware – they both bounce better and seem to be better adapted for survival.
Since arrival, I have done a biking circumnavigation of Ajo Mountain as well as another loop nearer to camp. There are trails everywhere, so I shall have my hands full covering them all while I am in residence. The first morning in camp, Dale, the Ranger, came by on patrol. Unlike Wardens in our National Parks, he welcomed me and gave me some good information about the surrounding desert trails. Given that I am camped on a known route for drug smugglers and Mexican “Illegales”, it’s nice to know that someone (with a badge) knows that I am here and has my interests at heart.
On my bike ride yesterday, I encountered a man with a shotgun – out looking for Gambel’s Quail. It turns out that I had met this same man and his wife, in the same spot, last year while on a bike ride. They volunteer at the Ajo Mine Museum and organize scrabble tournaments in town. As it happens, I popped into the museum today, had lunch with my new acquaintances (the Weyers, from Ajo) got invited to a tuna sandwich lunch which was partially opened by my swiss army knife and arranged to meet for scrabble out in the hills next week.
My next port-of-call from here (in a couple of weeks) will probably be Quartzsite, for the RV Show which starts on Jan 21st. Most likely, I will stay up on Plomosa Road there, a little out of town and away from the hordes of people. Despite the masses, this is always an enjoyable time at Q. - walking around gawking at all the latest RV related things that I can’t afford, but about which I enjoy dreaming. Ted Webber, my neighbour from Craggy Wash, should also be there and can give me an advanced lesson on GPS navigation (if I can find him, I will have overcome a major hurdle). Since buying the GPS, I seem to have developed my elementary skills to a reasonable point (mainly riding the bike down steep, rocky trails with my eye on the GPS instead of the trail) but now need more help on mastering the more sophisticated functions that relate to its interface with the computer.
Temperatures are still up in record setting-range. We should top 80° for a high today, though I thought that I could recall high 80s once a few years ago – perhaps that was later in the month. With the bike riding that I have been doing (average 4 to 5 days a week), one would think that I could get back to my formerly svelte figure of 40 years ago. It seems that this is not to be and now I know why. In USA Today, I just read an article about how drinkers of Diet Coke think that they are going to lose weight but don’t because whatever is in the diet part of coke makes us hungrier. It was for the former reason that I made the switch to Diet Coke as my rum additive a few years ago. I can only conclude that the rum is an issue or perhaps the 16 oz glasses that I use (big but unbreakable) have something to do with it! Age, of course, would not be a factor. Keep the e-mails coming – I have heard from quite a few of you but there are still holdouts.
JW
From Mica Mine Road Camp 3 32 19.835/112 54.013
Turnoff 32 19.711/ 112 54.063
Hello All:
It seems a long time since I last wrote from Craggy Wash but, with so much to do and so little time, things just get delayed. After spending the entire winter budget on new brakes, trailer batteries and my GPS up in Lake Havasu, I travelled south-east to Why and one of my regular campsites at Gunsight Wash. Because I know that some of you out there in group e-mail land may try to find a few of the places that I visit, and also because I need to do something useful with my new toy, I shall be writing down the positions of all campsites as they crop up in conversation from now on, as well as entry points off the nearest roads where possible. Therefore, the co-ordinates of Gunsight Wash would be written as:
Gunsight Camp site -------------- (N32 14.423’ W112 45.510’)
Turnoff from Highway 85 -------- (N32 14.345’ W112 45.018’)
I travelled down from Havasu on the 21st in good weather – sunny skies and mild temps, which, at one point near Gila Bend, hit 80°. My friends, the Percys were in residence at their usual spot in Gunsight, having arrived several days earlier.
Propane up in Gila Bend at the Shell was a shocker - $19 for a fill-up – am glad temps require no heating at the moment.
I thought that I had slipped back in time the other day when, as I was driving down from Havasu. I heard those immortal words – “hello, skiers and snowboarders”, on the radio. Apparently, the areas around Flagstaff had some snow and were up and running with new advertising on the local radio station. It seems a little strange to be talking about skiing down here where temps are close to 80° every day now as we experience a mini-heat wave.
I was at Gunsight for two weeks and camped adjacent (within sand wedge range) to the Percys. We enjoyed a few bike rides, had the daily happy hour campfire and turkey with all the “fixins” on Christmas Day. They have returned to Canada for 10 days, having stored their trailer (hopefully) within range of the Phoenix Airport. They should be back in the south before long, so maybe we’ll meet up again. The sunsets at Gunsight have been spectacular this year. It is hard to put down the camera as the light changes every few minutes each evening. I have put a few pics in the computer and I’m sure that there will be more to come.
On Jan 4th, my allotted two week period at Gunsight was up so I moved to a new spot. Mica Mine Road, aka Cemetary Road, is in the hills west of Ajo and travels from the Ajo scenic Loop to a closed gate into the Cabeza Prieta Wilderness a few miles past my camp area. I left Gunsight, dumped and watered at the Golden Hassan Casino – host lady absent, so will have to return to pay the $10.00 fee - then got propane at Flores Brothers in Why and headed for the my new spot. This is as scenic an area as anywhere that I have camped – very quiet and seemingly remote despite being only a few miles as the crow flies from Ajo. The “road” is a bull low, washed out, slow creeping goat track in spots, so I was a little concerned as to whether I could manage it safely with the trailer in tow. On a previous visit with the bicycle, however, I had seen a fifth-wheel camped at the site where I am presently ensconced. It was at least as big as mine, so I knew that the mission was possible. At first, I was tempted to take one of the sites closer to the main Ajo Loop but decided, in the end, that the day was long; I had little else to do and would not sleep well unless I tried to make it into this particular site. In the end, I succeeded with little difficulty, having avoided the hurling of plates and cups from their cupboard shelves, an occurrence that frequently marks my passage over rough terrain. Over the years, I have pretty well replaced anything breakable with plastic or Corningware – they both bounce better and seem to be better adapted for survival.
Since arrival, I have done a biking circumnavigation of Ajo Mountain as well as another loop nearer to camp. There are trails everywhere, so I shall have my hands full covering them all while I am in residence. The first morning in camp, Dale, the Ranger, came by on patrol. Unlike Wardens in our National Parks, he welcomed me and gave me some good information about the surrounding desert trails. Given that I am camped on a known route for drug smugglers and Mexican “Illegales”, it’s nice to know that someone (with a badge) knows that I am here and has my interests at heart.
On my bike ride yesterday, I encountered a man with a shotgun – out looking for Gambel’s Quail. It turns out that I had met this same man and his wife, in the same spot, last year while on a bike ride. They volunteer at the Ajo Mine Museum and organize scrabble tournaments in town. As it happens, I popped into the museum today, had lunch with my new acquaintances (the Weyers, from Ajo) got invited to a tuna sandwich lunch which was partially opened by my swiss army knife and arranged to meet for scrabble out in the hills next week.
My next port-of-call from here (in a couple of weeks) will probably be Quartzsite, for the RV Show which starts on Jan 21st. Most likely, I will stay up on Plomosa Road there, a little out of town and away from the hordes of people. Despite the masses, this is always an enjoyable time at Q. - walking around gawking at all the latest RV related things that I can’t afford, but about which I enjoy dreaming. Ted Webber, my neighbour from Craggy Wash, should also be there and can give me an advanced lesson on GPS navigation (if I can find him, I will have overcome a major hurdle). Since buying the GPS, I seem to have developed my elementary skills to a reasonable point (mainly riding the bike down steep, rocky trails with my eye on the GPS instead of the trail) but now need more help on mastering the more sophisticated functions that relate to its interface with the computer.
Temperatures are still up in record setting-range. We should top 80° for a high today, though I thought that I could recall high 80s once a few years ago – perhaps that was later in the month. With the bike riding that I have been doing (average 4 to 5 days a week), one would think that I could get back to my formerly svelte figure of 40 years ago. It seems that this is not to be and now I know why. In USA Today, I just read an article about how drinkers of Diet Coke think that they are going to lose weight but don’t because whatever is in the diet part of coke makes us hungrier. It was for the former reason that I made the switch to Diet Coke as my rum additive a few years ago. I can only conclude that the rum is an issue or perhaps the 16 oz glasses that I use (big but unbreakable) have something to do with it! Age, of course, would not be a factor. Keep the e-mails coming – I have heard from quite a few of you but there are still holdouts.
JW
Saturday, December 17, 2005
From Craggy Wash December 17th 2005
Greetings from Craggy Wash, near Lake Havasu City, AZ
I’ll just pick up the prose where my last effort left off at the Pilot Station RV in Stanfield, OR.
From Stanfield I moved south-east along I 84 to Pendleton and then began the climb up to the Blue Mountain Summit, AKA Cabbage-Meacham. As usual, the highway was bare at the bottom and skies clear, so I figured that the omens were good for a relatively stress free crossing. Actually, I had checked the Internet highway cam earlier to see what the pass looked like. Up top, lay 14” of snow at the side of the road whereas the actual paved surface appeared plowed but icy. When I got to the summit, this was, indeed, the case. The road was slick but slow speeds and a self-imposed prohibition on braking or acceleration got me down the east side in one piece. The problem is that the semis don’t seem to want to slow down, so they come by with a great blast of wind and snow. Some people drive even more slowly than I do and there is always a big risk coming up behind them. On icy surfaces, this can be problematic because one doesn’t want to use the brakes. The key is to accept the fact that it will take a while to get back to bare pavement and plod along with the flow. The road had been closed earlier for a couple of hours due to a major accident the night before but was clear by the time I came over (about 10 a.m.). I left Stanfield at 9 a.m. and arrived in Jackpot NV at about 4 p.m. This stage could have been a little faster but for the scenic shortcut that I took through some farm roads west of Twin Falls. This was in order to take a look at the Thousand Springs, a cliff with several waterfalls descending from the escarpment above the Snake River. Somewhere, I took a wrong turn, saw no signage, or waterfalls, but did, eventually, end up back on the country lane leading to the Jackpot highway. Temps were fairly chilly en-route (down to -14° C) at one point, so I was a little concerned about the water in the trailer and turned the furnace on to keep the tanks heated. This seemed to work, since I had running water when I got to Jackpot. I had thought that it was going to be really cold and opted to camp in Cactus Pete’s Casino RV Park, so I could plug in to “shore power”. The thinking here is that, If I have to run my furnace on “low” all night, simply to protect the water lines, then being hooked to power is an advantage – plus, I can use my small electric heater as a backup. We all know what happens to the efficiency of batteries in a car at really cool temperatures. Well - the same thing applies to my batteries in the trailer. They run at less than 50% efficiency when cold and the furnace fan requires plenty of juice. As it happens, Jackpot, even though at an elevation of nearly 5000’, wasn’t all that cold (slightly under freezing), so I probably could have survived without the extra boost. As always, Cactus Pete’s had an excellent buffet, so I fuelled up there rather than reheating frozen pork stew that the border guards had allowed me to keep. I wandered around the casino for a little while before returning to my TV in the trailer. Lots of people were playing “hold-em” poker in the”poker pit”. A woman came up and said that they had a spot at one of the tables if I wanted to play but, having observed the rate at which some players were throwing their chips in the pot and not really understanding the stakes, I declined.
From Jackpot, it is about 6½ hours to Lake Pahranagat, the Wildlife Sanctuary 4 miles south of Alamo, 90 miles north of Las Vegas. I was assisted by a huge tail wind most of the length of Nevada, which helped with fuel consumption. On the radio, it was announced that Colorado was to experience hurricane force winds up to 195 kms per hour (one of the few metric measurements that I have heard in the US), so I may have benefited from some of the overflow. I stopped at Pahranagat last year and am still impressed that the Fish and Wildlife people created such a nice camping/picnicking area with no fees for staying overnight.
Dec 10th Craggy Wash
I made it to Craggy Wash on schedule, Dec 8th – arrived about 2.00 pm after roughly 3 - 3.5 hours from Pahranagat with one stop at Searchlight, NV for fuel. The pumps at “Terribles” Service Center were acting up; with the result that there was a requirement to submit a zip code before the pump would operate. I tried all the buttons that I could press, attempting to crack the code with a fictitious zip but finally had to go in and speak with the attendant. She got me to run my credit card for a pre-approved maximum purchase amount, after which I returned to the pump, filled up with fuel and got another receipt for the actual amount. I thought that this was very strange and more than a little labour-intensive. At Craggy Wash, north of the Lake Havasu Airport, I pulled in to my usual spot on the edge of a little wash, and was greeted by Lyn and Linda Michaud (with dog Zulu), who had arrived earlier from Buckskin Mountain State Park – also Pam and Terry Ellott, folks from Surrey who I met last year in Why, and who had, unwittingly, parked adjacent to the Michauds.
I have discovered that I may have at least one low battery, since the monitor dropped down into the orange range when I fired up the inverter and TV on the first night.
Yesterday, the Michauds and I went for a hike to see if we could get down to the Colorado at Topock Gorge. First, we exited I 40 at Needles Mountain Road and went south on a gravel track as far as possible. This was in Lyn’s fairly new truck and it is possible that we went a little further than Linda considered ideal as the trail got a bit rough. It took us just over an hour after parking to hike down a wash to the river where we ate sandwiches on a nice sandy beach. The return trip was longer (uphill with hip pills wearing off). The Michauds have changed their plans a bit and will return home before Christmas. We discussed going to Maricopa Mountain Wilderness for a few days but opted to stay here, since Maricopa would be a day’s drive in the wrong direction for them. With the flea market on Sunday and shopping, e-mailing, etc. to do, I’m sure that we can waste a little more time at Havasu.
There are quite a few tent people here, some of whom looking slightly dishevelled. The ones nearest to me make lots of noise with one particular man who shouts haphazardly at persons unknown. It may just be that he and his elderly dog have developed a conversational
understanding over time but the words don’t make much sense to me. Old cars containing equally eccentric looking individuals visit at odd times of the day, so, anyone less open-minded than me might be disposed to think that funny business was afoot (word has it that drugs are available in Craggy Wash). At least he goes to bed early and doesn’t drown out the sound of my TV.Dec 15th Lake Havasu (N34°35.648’ W114°21.611’)
The Michauds made their escape several days ago and, yesterday, the Ellotts left for Quartzsite to get new batteries. Now I have new neighbours - two large fifth wheel trailers from Salmon Arm and one motorhome containing, Ted Webber and girl friend Bonnie, who hail from Idaho (I think, though Ted has licence plates of convenience for tax reasons). Ted is highly conversant about all things to do with GPS systems, battery management and water conservation, so has been advising me on matters pertaining to same. His water saving skills are to the point that, while in pre-shower mode and awaiting the arrival of hot water to the showerhead, he collects any surplus cold water in his kettle for future coffee making, I tried this and gained almost two litres – a bonus!
While Lyn was still here, we made a visit to the Walmart down the road and purchased my Christmas present to me – a GPS – Garmin - eTrex Legend C. From now on, every campsite will have its coordinates listed, so those navigating on their maps, or following along, will be able to pinpoint my location. I have been reading instructions and practicing my course-plotting technique by walking up, down and in a random manner, around Craggy Wash. The neighbours might think that I have joined the muddle-headed ranks of the nearby tent people, some of whom are prone to holding discussions with themselves. In reality, though, I am making slow progress and hope to find my way to the highway in a day or two. Still to come are detailed backcountry maps (on CD) for installation in the computer. Walmart did not have these, so I shall hunt them down elsewhere.
Even though my 1 weak battery has shown signs of revitalization, The electrolyte readings are still low, meaning that it is doomed. Prevailing wisdom in these matters dictates that one should replace all the batteries. It is likely only a matter of time before one or more of the others begin to fail - when one has a bank of four, all hooked together, one rotten apple…….. I checked out several battery places in town, to discover that most battery people also recommend changing all four (of course they would!). Prices may be better down in Quartzsite, so I shall probably go there to spec things out.
Daytimes are very pleasant here with highs in the upper 60s. Nighttime lows drop into the low 40s. I shall use Fahrenheit scales throughout the winter messages – without translation into Celsius any more. Older readers will remember and younger ones will have the mental benefit of making conversions. This may be the last e-mail before the 25th (sighs of relief), so - Merry Christmas!
Am still having difficulty posting pictures. Will, no doubt, work this out sometime during the winter. For the time being, bloggers will have to settle for text only
JW
Leaving the not so sunny Shuswap
Leaving the not-so-sunny Shuswap seems to get a little more difficult every year. Mainly, this is a question related to carrying loads of “stuff” up from the cabin to the trailer. Maybe age and a general lack of interest in becoming a Sherpa are factors. In any case, my new wheelbarrow (half price at Canadian Tire), came in handy and all the usual things – fridge defrosting, water pipes out of the lake (done in mid-November), putting my ratty looking Lake Louise flag back in its drawer to eliminate that attraction for winter vandals and a host of other things, all got done (read that sentence quickly and it sounds better). The trailer axles, which were being inspected for possible misalignment, checked out perfectly at Salmon Arm Frame, so, if I wear out a tire every 3 or 4 years, that’s the price of doing business.
The week prior to leaving was fairly cool by Shuswap standards, temps dropping to -7 or 8 at night, barely recovering to freezing in the daytime. Naturally, we had some snow just before I pulled out and I had to install chains on the trailer just to get down the steep hill on Sunnybrae Road. In fact, the Maintenance crews had plowed and sanded before I got there, so the chains were superfluous but, I got some practice for when I really need them
The Walmart in Omak is a traditional first night stop. This is about 5½ hours and an easy first day. Other than allowing me to stock up on a few items taken by the border guards - this year 6 chicken eggs, apparently because of the duck in the Fraser Valley who caught Avian flue somewhere in its travels, plus other supplies, Walmarts encourage campers to use their parking lots – and it’s free! Evidently, inflation has come to Omak. Franzia wine (available in BC for Cdn $25.95 for a 3 litre box) is sold in the U.S. in 5 litre boxes and has gone up from US $7.99 last year to $10.47 this year, or, $2.09 per litre for those who are counting. Multiply by 1.175 to equate with Canadian dollars and we come up with Cdn $2.46 per litre. At these rates, I’ll have to slow down consumption. Maybe, the fact that my particular model of Franzia is designated as a “chillable red” makes it pricey – who knows? Bitterly cold in Omak last night (Saturday) with temps down to -12° C. This keeps the furnace working overtime but the trailer is still quite comfortable. Tonight’s stop in Stanfield, OR is one of my few commercial parks of the winter trip. The main reason for this is to flush through the antifreeze in my lines and fill up with a half load of water – also to have a shower, enjoy complimentary wi-fi access and watch Desperate Housewives on cable TV. For those who live without water once their lakes freeze, this (the shower) is quite a luxury.
I took a stroll around the Park this evening, just in case there were any spare DHs in need of cryptic crossword guidance but the bait was rejected - like most of my fishing expeditions. Because it was so cold up in Omak, I assumed that my fridge was having a moment of rebellion when it declined to start in propane mode. The interior of the trailer would have been well below freezing, as were most of the veggies in the fridge crisper. No harm was done if crunchy, then limp, green onions were on the menu but …. fridges can’t have minds of their own and the mystery had to be solved. Tonight, I poked around with a long screwdriver and got rid of the rusted metal flaking that fell down the interior of the fridge stack and covered the orifice, after which it worked as the manual says it should. Actually, this is the third time that I have had to do this in the last year or two.
From here, the plan for tomorrow is to conquer the dreaded Blue Mountain Summit, where snow and ice often create treacherous road conditions. Once over the pass and safely down the other side, I hope to make it to Jackpot, Nevada, where Cactus Pete’s Casino offers one of the better buffets on my route. The next day should get me to Lake Pahranagat Wildlife Sanctuary, about 90 miles north of Las Vegas, after which I hope to meet up with the MIchauds (Lyn and Linda) at Craggy Wash, near Lake Havasu City on or about Dec 8th.
This e-mail is a little short on pictures, since one Walmart looks much like another and it is now dark here at the Stanfield Pilot Station RV Park. Therefore, my driveway with some snow will have to do.
JW
The week prior to leaving was fairly cool by Shuswap standards, temps dropping to -7 or 8 at night, barely recovering to freezing in the daytime. Naturally, we had some snow just before I pulled out and I had to install chains on the trailer just to get down the steep hill on Sunnybrae Road. In fact, the Maintenance crews had plowed and sanded before I got there, so the chains were superfluous but, I got some practice for when I really need them
The Walmart in Omak is a traditional first night stop. This is about 5½ hours and an easy first day. Other than allowing me to stock up on a few items taken by the border guards - this year 6 chicken eggs, apparently because of the duck in the Fraser Valley who caught Avian flue somewhere in its travels, plus other supplies, Walmarts encourage campers to use their parking lots – and it’s free! Evidently, inflation has come to Omak. Franzia wine (available in BC for Cdn $25.95 for a 3 litre box) is sold in the U.S. in 5 litre boxes and has gone up from US $7.99 last year to $10.47 this year, or, $2.09 per litre for those who are counting. Multiply by 1.175 to equate with Canadian dollars and we come up with Cdn $2.46 per litre. At these rates, I’ll have to slow down consumption. Maybe, the fact that my particular model of Franzia is designated as a “chillable red” makes it pricey – who knows? Bitterly cold in Omak last night (Saturday) with temps down to -12° C. This keeps the furnace working overtime but the trailer is still quite comfortable. Tonight’s stop in Stanfield, OR is one of my few commercial parks of the winter trip. The main reason for this is to flush through the antifreeze in my lines and fill up with a half load of water – also to have a shower, enjoy complimentary wi-fi access and watch Desperate Housewives on cable TV. For those who live without water once their lakes freeze, this (the shower) is quite a luxury.
I took a stroll around the Park this evening, just in case there were any spare DHs in need of cryptic crossword guidance but the bait was rejected - like most of my fishing expeditions. Because it was so cold up in Omak, I assumed that my fridge was having a moment of rebellion when it declined to start in propane mode. The interior of the trailer would have been well below freezing, as were most of the veggies in the fridge crisper. No harm was done if crunchy, then limp, green onions were on the menu but …. fridges can’t have minds of their own and the mystery had to be solved. Tonight, I poked around with a long screwdriver and got rid of the rusted metal flaking that fell down the interior of the fridge stack and covered the orifice, after which it worked as the manual says it should. Actually, this is the third time that I have had to do this in the last year or two.
From here, the plan for tomorrow is to conquer the dreaded Blue Mountain Summit, where snow and ice often create treacherous road conditions. Once over the pass and safely down the other side, I hope to make it to Jackpot, Nevada, where Cactus Pete’s Casino offers one of the better buffets on my route. The next day should get me to Lake Pahranagat Wildlife Sanctuary, about 90 miles north of Las Vegas, after which I hope to meet up with the MIchauds (Lyn and Linda) at Craggy Wash, near Lake Havasu City on or about Dec 8th.
This e-mail is a little short on pictures, since one Walmart looks much like another and it is now dark here at the Stanfield Pilot Station RV Park. Therefore, my driveway with some snow will have to do.
JW
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Summer in BC
Good thing that the blog travelogue hasn’t officially started yet, since technical concerns still seem to be at the forefront. The last entry included a photo of Aunt Barbara, with a caption of “lady at piano” immediately underneath. When I submitted the blog to be published, the caption was correctly placed beneath the picture. Once published, however, the text moved down and the caption ended up several rows away from the picture. There must be a way to co-ordinate this a little better, so will keep working on it. My quick answer as readers of this entry will note, is to post captionless photos in random order. In this way, no manner of organization will be expected
Summer at the Shuswap (actually, the entire 8 month period of time that I spend living at the cabin) ranges from active (the warm months when guests come to visit) to sedentary (the cool months when daytime fog hangs over the lake at most times other than those when it is actually raining, and no one comes. This blog/e-mail won’t bother with too much detail of who came and what happened. Rather, I am going to insert a few photos of various activities/guests and leave it at that. The pictures were intended to be in chronological order from Spring to the present and are not limited to the Shuswap. However, I have experienced some difficulties in posting pictures at all so randomness may be the keyword for this effort.
My Spring usually starts out with a May visit to Vancouver Island for the purpose of visiting mother Kay and various friends.
Kinsol Trestle
This trip was interesting in that neither of the participants, DonnaMae Wilson or myself, had set wheels on this trail before. DonnaMae’s cycling friend, Jeannette Klein (of Trails BC -Vancouver Island Division fame) had given us instructions to the south end of the now abandoned Kinsol Trestle, part of the rail freight system that had, at one time, serviced the Kinsol (short for King Solomon) Mine way back when and had fallen into disrepair when the world price for whatever mineral they were mining fell to a point where extraction became non-profitable and the railway ceased to operate. Given that the trestle itself was impassable, we were directed to a bypass that Trails BC was considering for access to the north end of the trestle and eventual connection to the Cowichan Lake trail system. At 10 kms, this didn’t seem too big a detour until we discovered ourselves climbing up a 7% grade logging road, then descending a fairly steep and narrow single track back to the Koksilah river level (roughly 700’ vertical). Eventually, we reached the north end of the trestle after having several discussions regarding the accuracy of Jeannette’s instructions. Returning to the truck by the same route would have taken us perilously close to the end of the day, so we opted to ford the river, risk the displeasure of someone’s guard dog on marked private property and save time on the way back. As it was, the day was darkening by the time we reached our starting point.
Aurora Explorer
The high point of my Spring visit to the Island was a trip aboard the Aurora Explorer. This landing craft-style freighter leaves from Port McNeil, north of Campbell River, and delivers heavy equipment and general construction goods to various remote logging camps and other settlements up mainland inlets as well as around some of the islands in the neighbourhood of Desolation Sound. In addition to a deckload of excavators, forklifts, skidders, water and logging trucks, the boat carried a human cargo of 12 passengers.
First class food and some spectacular scenery up Bute, Jarvis and Princess Louisa Inlets, more than made up for the fact that the weather remained cloudy and rainy throughout our voyage.
My mother had booked the trip six months before and had originally intended to travel with one of her friends from England. As it happens, the friend had other commitments, whereas I evinced mild expressions of interest, and left for Arizona on the understanding that she would search for more compatible cruising companions over the course of the winter, keeping me as a last resort to be used if needed. It is, without a doubt, a small measure of the esteem in which I am held that no other candidates surfaced and I got the nod. For those interested in looking up the website, I think that the address is marinelink.com, though a Google search for Aurora Explorer would arrive at the same place.
One of the downsides of going on the cruise was that I had to miss the annual Around Saltspring Island sailing race with friends Lyn and DonnaMae Wilson on their boat “Louise”. Apparently, they enjoyed the best winds in several years and finished in record time. That they were not actually in the money was a reflection of the absent ballast factor. My contribution in other years had been, primarily, to weigh down the windward rail, thus trimming the boat and adding a fraction of advantage to our cause. In lieu of sailing, we all got together for a few bike rides, one of which was via the Galloping Goose Trail from Sidney down to Spinnakers Pub on the inner harbour in Victoria – this in company with Jeannette and George Klein along with the Wilsons
Christie Memorial
In early April, Louky W. returned from South Africa to join some of the neighbours, one or two of Christie’s friends, Barbara Asquin and me for a little ceremony at the memorial corral up the hill from my cabin. We planted Christie’s ashes under the “towering” ponderosa sapling that I planted the previous year and had a glass of champagne in her memory. I was given the job of drilling holes in the granite rock that Tony W. and I had placed the previous year and attaching the plaque. I was worried about having the correct drill bit, glue and a drywall (?) plug to do the job properly, so studied correct procedure on the Internet. In the end, everything went according to plan; the plaque got mounted and Christie’s ashes joined those of a few deceased farm folks, plus one or two favourite pets who make up the residents of the memorial corral. I am pleased to report that the memorial ponderosa grew a foot or more over the course of the summer and looks as if it may, indeed, “tower” someday.
Ponoka Stampede
The annual end of June trip to Ponoka, with trailer in tow, went off, I was going to say – without a hitch, but of course, with the trailer, there is always a hitch.
Don Cameron and Kerri, collectively known as Team Medi-Dart, were great hosts, as always; the barnyard was chock full of relatives, dogs, a flock of 59 buzzards there to mark the 60th birthday of Kerri’s dad, as well as assorted guests. We attended Stampede events a few times, golfed twice and sat under the awning of the party trailer (mine) swilling beer and listening to Abba (the only CD in my collection of 10 CDs that gets universal approval). I even had the great thrill of going through Edmonton once to visit the Blackwood golf course – thanks to Gail H for the passes. Don and Kerri, accompanied by Razor the retriever, returned the visit by coming to the Shuswap later on in the summer, there to soak up sun and go for a few bike rides to the ice cream store as well as one over the top of the mountain and back down the front side (35 kms; 2800’ vertical - shuttle trucks needed for this one).
Shuswap guests
Plenty of other guests came to the Shuswap this year. Included were Reg Newcom and his trusty companion, Makk – so named because the previous dog, AKA Mac, passed away and Reg put the two “K”s in to avoid confusion. I was pleased to take on the task of being the swimming instructor for Makk, who, despite being a Chesapeake retriever, had never seen swimmable water. Off the dock he went in chase of a stick – perhaps the only dog that I have ever seen to do a regular human dive (head down, paws outstretched). When he resurfaced, gasping and choking. I thought for a moment that I might have to perform a dramatic sea rescue but his vertical attitude in the water changed to horizontal after a minute and he ended up paddling like a pro.
Jim Lebourdais was by and camped on board his “ship” at the dock. I had to spring into high gear to get the dock repaired in time – it was partially destroyed in one of the several Spring storms that we experienced this year. One of my ongoing projects – actually a project that has been static for a few years, got done while Jim was visiting. The fir tree in the middle of the deck now has space to breathe after we cut out the surrounding boards that had been threatening to choke it for the last several years.
My cousin David Asquin and family came out a couple of days. Finally, the boat, bobbing happily on its buoy all summer to that point, got a short workout as people skied, swam and sank in their respective fashions.
Tony Worrall came for 10 days in September. The water was still quite swimmable, though he brought some Toronto cloud with him that lingered throughout the week. Regardless, a good time was had by all. Mother Kay and her sister, Tommy, from England, came for a few days and enjoyed sunny hot weather. As Tommy suffers from a degree of visual impairment, preparations for them had to be made in advance. Rock pathways and steps were coated with fluorescent paint for heightened visibility, quantities of gin and pernod were imported from Salmon Arm for heightened perspective and resident spiders were pressurewashed from the outhouse. All would have gone well, had it not been for my friend Darch from Merritt, who dropped in with a couple of bottles of wine that he proceeded to pour into the ladies, to the point where a tipsy hike back to the guest cabin was enjoyed by all. There were plenty of other visitations, including friends from Lake Louise and area (Dawn, José, Dan and Joe with Dan’s brother Steve), Neil Mckendrick, Brian Honeywell and the CSPS golf team (how I can play so poorly and win money at the same time is still a mystery) spent a weekend, Doug and Sue Macdonald en route to, or on the way back from, their place on SaltSpring Island, dropped in and new acquaintances, the Richards from Sidney, BC arrived with dog Kenya in tow. A frequent visitor this summer has been Onyx, a young German Shepherd, so named because of his jet black colour. He is a recent arrival at Bastion Ranch, which surrounds me, and pops by quite regularly to check up on me and see what lady dog guests are on the loose (not to mention the leftover roll of “Rollover” that I inherited earlier in the summer). Other than that, MaryAnn H., now a Whistler resident, came out to show me her new, mufflerless, diesel truck and Lyn and Linda Michaud, whom I hope to meet in Arizona shortly, made their first appearance ever at the cabin. I’m sure that there were more arrivals but, memory being what it is, I have temporarily forgotten.
Projects
My projects this summer were fairly mundane. Dock repairs, following Spring storms took most of my talent and energy. Firewood cutting was ongoing throughout most of the summer, the deck, as mentioned, got cut around the tree, plus I replaced some deck planks. In addition I obtained a Lee Valley concrete mixer with which Don Cameron and I built some stone steps into the lake (or out of the lake, depending which way one is climbing) from the cliff immediately below the cabin. On most efforts, I had help from willing guests, though on some projects the guests did all the work - to all of you, thanks and please come back any time.
As this blog segment is being written, I am back on Vancouver Island for the Fall visit, though will be returning to Shuswap on Monday next. I need to get the frame shop in Salmon Arm to straighten one of my trailer axles after which I should be on the road south, hopefully on or about December 3rd.
The plan is to meet up with the Michauds when I arrive in Arizona, maybe travel to new and exciting destinations, then get to Gunsight Wash, near Why before Christmas. There is a good chance that the Perecys (of Sunnybrae Road) will be there and we can enjoy one or two campfires together.
This blog will end up being identical to the pre-departure group e-mail that I plan to send – the reason being that I am a little uncertain as to whether the blog is going to get through to its blogsite, presumably by passing through the blogosphere on the way.
One observation about the making of the blogsite comes to mind and maybe there is someone out there who can point me in the right direction. The text written here is in Word. I have downloaded the Blogger toolbar from Blogger.com and am attempting to write as if this were simply a Word document. The process of inserting pictures (as opposed to “attaching” pictures), however, is when the problems arise. Try as I might, the pics keep getting out of order – as if they had minds of their own. In any case, I have attempted to include a few pictures, though not all that I wanted (some simply disappeared), and one might note that they seem to be randomly placed. I think that I need to get to the next level of my blogging education and would welcome any input that anyone might offer – don’t hesitate to comment - that’s what the “comment” button is for! For those reading this as an e-mail, the blogsite can be found at travelswiththegoldenfalcon.blogspot.com – start at the bottom and work your way up to read in a chronological fashion. Oh and it’s time for he annual reminder – those who wish to receive the group e-mails simply have to respond with even a sentence to let me know that you are still alive and interested. Those who wish to “unsubscribe” can just let it ride by doing nothing.
JW
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
November 15th 2005
November 15th 2005
It is a little difficult to figure just where to start writing a blog. The first couple of submissions were testers, to determine how the blog actually operates, set formats (this one is Rounders) and play with other blogworthy settings. For the moment, I am reasonably satisfied with the product, even though the first glitch has already reared its ugly head.
1 Lady at piano/cat on table
Barbara, my aunt in Salmon Arm and one of the few Mac users that I know, receives the blog text in
dark green print on a black background, thus rendering the script unreadable.
My computer shows a dark text on light background, so I have to presume that the Mac is at fault. If anyone else suffers from this affliction, or any other, for that matter, then let me know. There is a “comment” button somewhere near this blog and we should try all the features. I have
submitted a stern reprimand to the blogspot people and await their feedback. In the meantime, Barbara will have to settle for the piano while the cat keeps an eye on the Mac.
Another discovery is that the order of blog updates goes from most recent to most ancient, meaning that someone wishing to read the entire blog from start to finish will have to hit the page down button until arriving at the beginning, then work their way back up the page to get to the end.
One of the selling features of “blogging” was that I would be able to display photos in a more efficient manner than by sending them attached to e-mails. This remains to be seen, since the speed of my connection (this is from home at 53.2 kbps) still has to get the pics to the blogsite somehow. I think that the advantage comes to the reader who will be reading in an HTML format, something that may take less memory than whatever arrives as an attachment in an e-mail. The last little bit of technology that might be of interest is that I downloaded a program that enables me to “create” my masterpieces in Word and then transfer them to the blogsite with the push of a button. I plan to do this right now before proceeding with the summer activity section.
The last item of interest is that captions for pictures may show up in the correct alignment i.e. immediately below said picture at the time of the intitial insertion but get moved as much as a couple of lines away in the published version. Presumably things get resized, text moves around and the caption gets misplaced. Advise on this from anyone would be useful.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Nov 1st 05 - update
Nov. 1st - a few days later.
Am still trying to find my way around the blogging site. For this exercise, am attempting to submit a second blog, so locating the correct page in which to enter my user name and password is an issue. Am not sure if times and dates are automatically entered or if I should date all input separately.
This year's southern journey will be the start of a seventh winter for the Falcon. It is my intention to seek out some new (to me) areas for boondocking, take a look at the Chiricahuas, camp in a few of the regular spots, return home via Moab (plan interrupted last year by the threat of a severe snowstorm in mid-March), make a decision on what satellite TV service to underwrite, now that ExpressVu has diminished the number of channels available in southern climes, explore on the bicycle and sit around a lot.
That should take care of this submission - we'll see how it turns out on the actual page.
Am still trying to find my way around the blogging site. For this exercise, am attempting to submit a second blog, so locating the correct page in which to enter my user name and password is an issue. Am not sure if times and dates are automatically entered or if I should date all input separately.
This year's southern journey will be the start of a seventh winter for the Falcon. It is my intention to seek out some new (to me) areas for boondocking, take a look at the Chiricahuas, camp in a few of the regular spots, return home via Moab (plan interrupted last year by the threat of a severe snowstorm in mid-March), make a decision on what satellite TV service to underwrite, now that ExpressVu has diminished the number of channels available in southern climes, explore on the bicycle and sit around a lot.
That should take care of this submission - we'll see how it turns out on the actual page.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
initial post
TWIMC:
have just undertaken to add blogging to my repertoire. As an alternative to e-mail, blogging may or may not provide one with the ability to post multiple photos and lengthy text excerpts without massive download times on a slow moving dial-up computer. To this point, missives from the golden falcon have been delivered by e-mail, so this is another option. I enclose a pic of the Golden Falcon, dated last March, to see if the attachment methodology works. There may be some formats or etiquette involved with blogging - that being the case, constructive advice would be welcomed.
To most, the picture will make it evident that I am an RVer - more specifically, a boondocker; defined, more or less, as one who camps (in my case, mostly south-west AZ) without the benefit of commercial amenities. For the moment, that should take care of my introductory blog. I shall learn more about the art of blogging and post more as time allows.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
