Foreign exchange

So, last Sunday we packed up our troubles in our old kit bags and smiled our way east and north towards the tundra. Actually, it was pretty smooth sailing until we hit Montana, when it got kind of grim. Sort of blizzardy, actually. So, after a couple of hours on the interstate with eejits who didn't notice it was foggy and snowing and they couldn't see more than 10 feet in front of them, we headed in to Glendive for our last night on the road.

In the morning... well, at least it had stopped snowing. Resolutely, we headed out. Very picturesque and I would have liked to have stopped for some photos. You know, the eerie, things-appearing-out-of-nowhere-because-it's-foggy kind. However, there's no interrupting Mr T when he's on a mission to get somewhere. And to be honest, I was kind of on the same mission.

We hit the border around 11. What ensued at the crossing boggles the imagination.


Border guy: Hey, how are you guys today? (guaranteed to put my back up, since I'm not a guy)


Dave: We're good, thanks (hands him our passports).

Border guy: Soooooooo...... how long you been away?

Dave: Oh, just about 5 weeks.
Border guy: Oh, yeah? Soooooo...... (and he goes into the whole schtick about how much did we buy, did we have any repairs or alterations to the car, were we carrying any drugs or illegal immigrants..... well, maybe not those last two)

Dave: Answers the questions, gives him our truckload of receipts (hey, we have a grandchild now, ok?) and the itemized list of what we bought, where, how much, etc. etc. To his credit, he didn't offer the heart of our firstborn, tho' Border guy looked like he might demand it at some point.

Border guy: Sooooooo..... what kind of work do you do?

Dave: Uh, we're both retired.

Border guy: Sooooooo..... what kind of work did you do, when you were working? I mean, were you some kind of investor or something?

Dave: Well, I had my own business. I was a financial planner.

Border guy (grinning from ear to ear): Yeah, I know you. I recognized your name. You had that old car, didn't you? The station wagon. It had your business name on the side, didn't it?

Dave (smiling now too): Yeah, that's right. I've still got it and...

Border guy: You've still got it? Wow! That's amazing.... blah blah blah

Dave: Yeah, it gets out every summer for a few miles, but that's about it..... blah blah blah

And then ensued an actual conversation, albeit one in which I had limited interest and no part. It was a total aberration from any of our collective experience with crossing the border and thus can only be filed under the heading "Foreign exchange".

And then we just had to convert back to kilometres and litres. That was the easy part.

The neverending journey

Sunday, fresh from our fabulous hike at Cochise Stronghold, we packed up everything and headed out of Dodge. It was a reasonable day as driving days go, only about 5 hours, including a looooong lunch break in Silver City, New Mexico.

SC is one of those places that time forgot, full of aging hippies (we felt quite at home) and historical artifacts.

Such as the one time home of Billy the Kid.

Mr. T is 5' 10" or so, guess Billy was a shorty. Talk about the Small Man Syndrome.

And just up the street.....

In 1887 (or somewhere in that era), there was a serious rainfall in the area with major flooding. This is the last house standing (as it were) after the floodwaters receded. Now a trendy B&B for aging hippies.

From SC, we moved on to Truth or Consequences, known locally (and on many highway signs, for obvious reasons) as T or C. The town is home to many hot springs hotels which you might expect to attract a sizeable clientele (baby boomers moving into the age of aches and pains and all that), but for some reason is still a pretty hurting place. Or maybe it's just because it's January and daily highs are only in the 15-20C range.

Dropping into the local coffee shop, The Black Cat, for the first decent cup of coffee we'd had in a month, we got talking with the server, a woman from..... Humboldt, Saskatchewan. Her brother from Saskatoon had arrived the previous day for a short visit. Small world, non?

Onwards and upwards to Elephant Butte State Park. After a (mostly pretty homely) nature walk in the desert, we headed to the lake to check out the boats. Elephant Butte Lake has been created by damming the Rio Grande. Or maybe that's damning the Rio Grande. At 36,000 acres, EB Lake basically guarantees the Rio Grande is virtually non-existent on the downstream side. The lake is a major recreation area. Think boats. Big ones. Lots of them. The woman in the Visitor centre told us that last July 4th there were 140,000 people in the park, most of them in large boats dragging things. And people.

Since we had some time in hand, we decided to do our lookie-loo thing and drive around the residential areas. What's really amazing about a lot of American towns is the wide variation in the types of houses you see in any given area. For example, you might have a really nice place, like this one (well, other than the power pole):

And right next door, you have......

A whole row of units like this....

It's all in the eye of the beholder, I guess.

We're in love

Our last day in Arizona, Saturday, we headed back to Cochise Stronghold to actually do some hiking (as opposed to driving into the campground, looking around and racing off to our next adventure.)

Between our first and second visits, the skies had opened and the river was running. As in, there was actual water in the streambed. We and the arthritic dog headed up the path, lunch in hand (well actually, in backpack), hiking poles swinging, whistling a happy tune.

About 10 minutes into it, we entered the magic kingdom. Photos don't quite do it justice, but .....

We agreed it was one of the best hikes we've done in recent memory. More simply, I am in love.....

Onwards and upwards

Yesterday, deciding to take the advice of our hosts, we headed to Sabino Canyon, a recreation area on the northeast edge of Tucson in the Catalina Mountains. The weather was promising (and it did deliver) to be warm and sunny.

You can only get to the top of Sabino Canyon by bicycle, tram or Shank's mare. We opted for the easy way up, figuring that hiking down would be a piece o' cake. And it was. Sort of.

This is the view from tram stop #9, the last one on the uphill trip. After that, you walk. Or take the tram down.

There is a half-mile trail up from here which we opted to hike thinking there would be even more awesome views from up there. And there were.....

It also got sunnier and hotter as we climbed. No sweat. Well, actually, quite a lot of it, but not a problem. When we got to the end of the half-mile one of us (and I'm not naming names) said, Hey, why not just go all the way back down on the trail? Off we went, feeling smug. After all, we're looking at downhill all the way, right?

Wrong.

After we'd imbibed all our water and eaten all our sandwiches and the load didn't feel any lighter and we were starting to get tired, one of us (no names) said, Maybe we should go back and take that shortcut we noticed.

Back? That means.... up. Dang. I hate when that happens.

But by then there were some shadows and thus better photo opps. Note that I'm not claiming better photos, just better opps.

All part of the adventure, right?

Some things you just don't expect

When I think of Arizona, agriculture isn't what springs to mind first. Actually, it doesn't spring to mind at all.

So it came as quite a surprise to find that Arizona, or at least southern Arizona, is a hotbed of food and wine production. Right next door to where we're staying, in fact, is a pecan orchard. In fact, they're everywhere. Even the Holy Trinity Monastery down the road has one. It supplements their income from the trailer park they own.

Wintering pecans

We also went past a pistachio orchard on our travels, tho' we didn't stop for photos.

Somewhere along the way, we picked up a brochure (actually a small tome) on Arizona's wine industry. Say what? Disbelieving, we ignored it until we arrived at a day when, having nothing planned, we thought, Why not? and headed for the closest wine tour to our temporary residence

The Sonoita/Elgin area is located in the mountains south and a bit west of Tucson. In the 1970s, Gordon Dutt, Ph.D., a soil scientist from the University of Arizona was intrigued with the similarity between the soil of the area and that of Burgundy, France. He and a partner developed an experimental winery that later developed into the Sonoita Vineyards and that encouraged other vineyards in the area. Presently, growers in the area produce Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Pinot Noir, Mission, and Syrah grapes.

This vineyard, Kief Joshua, has approximately 25 acres in vines. And counting.

So, what about the wine? You might well ask. I was prepared for plonk. Or turpentine. And was pleasantly surprised to find that several of the ones I tried (Mr. T opted out on the grounds he was driving. Probably a good thing) were quite acceptable, even tasty.

The wineries on this tour offer tastings for $3 to $5 and you take the glass with you when you leave. They discount the tasting fee if you bring a glass from another winery. Most of them are only open weekends, tho' there were 3 open on Monday when we went. Good thing -- tho' we only came away with 3 bottles of wine, we spent much, much more on trash and trinkets!

The adventure continues

Last Sunday, we headed to Tucson to visit the Arizona State Museum, which is located on the University of Arizona campus. Our thinking went like this: (1) We avoid crowds whenever possible, (2) The UA has about 37,000 students on any given day and (3) Sunday might be a day there wouldn't be that many people around and thus a good bet for a state museum visit.

Our first inkling of the utter falsehood of our reasoning came when we arrived at the campus parkade to find it open and apparently unstaffed. As in you don't have to pay for parking on Sundays. Bonus, we thought, and never dreaming what the real message was we headed into the sunshine towards the Tourist Information Centre to obtain a campus map.

Inkling #2: TIC looked dark and unwelcoming as we approached. Also, there was a padlocked gate in the entrance. Its hours, posted boldly on the front door: 9-5, Monday to Friday. What TIC is only open business hours?

Inkling #3: The State Museum looked dark and unwelcoming as we approached. No padlocked gate, but posted hours were on the order of 9-5, Monday to Saturday.

Oh. Maybe Tucson isn't open 24/7 as we had supposed. In fact, most of the shops and restaurants we walked by were closed too. Clearly, Plan B was in order. So, we walked around the campus, took some pictures, soaked up the unseasonable warmth and did manage to find an open art gallery to browse.

Strolling along the main drag

There are orange trees scattered around the campus and oranges scattered on the ground around each of them. We couldn't figure out why they weren't being gathered and eaten. Until we gathered one and (started to) eat it. Urk! More sour than lemons, if you can imagine that.

Old Main, one of the original buildings. Note the mutant cactus in the middle of the photo.

And finally, the ubiquitous neutral zone sign. They're everywhere and, sadly, we hardly notice them any more.

Oh, and the art gallery was ok.

The adventure continues............

Using the W word

I wasn't going to talk about the weather at all while we were here. I mean, it's kind of rude to be telling people who have to put on 4 or 5 layers just to go out that we only needed one. And sometimes a short-sleeved one at that.

But lately, things have gotten downright weird here. Weird enough that I feel we've bonded on the weather front. Pun intended.

After 10 days, or maybe it was 2 weeks, of predicted rain not actually happening, we had pretty much lapsed into an "I'm from Missouri" state of mind. And then we got it. In spades. Tucson pretty much closed down. People, not believing the "Do not cross" lines, drove their 4-wheel drive vehicles into little dips and couldn't get out. Schools closed for the day. Snow piled up -- and I mean piled up -- up to 25 or 30 inches at the higher elevations.

Because Tucson was indisposed and outdoors wasn't really an option, we headed to Douglas, a very small border town on the other side of The Fence from Agua Prieta, a much larger city. Douglas is pretty historic as those things go and, according to the gen has many historic buildings. Well, there was one, the Gadsden Hotel. The lobby has (a) staircase posts which are gilded with real gold and (b) a huge staircase made of a single piece of marble. If you look closely, you can see the chip mark from when Pancho Villa apparently rode his horse up the stairs (as an act of defiance, I presume).

The hotel had a few other working artifacts from earlier times:

An elevator requiring a human operator. Gasp!

Telephone booths. With operating phones. Well, okay, they're coin-operated so obviously not the originals. But the booths are.

We never did go across to the Mexican side. But I couldn't resist taking the only photos of The Fence I'm likely to get:

Drawing the line

The other day we headed for Saguaro National Park and Old Tucson Studios, both being on our list of things to do before we leave the area. The day was brilliantly sunny, a good omen from the photographer's perspective. The trip, other than being surrounded on three sides by maniacs going at warp speed, was uneventful. We took the appointed exit off the I-10 and headed west through what appeared to be a Hispanic neighbourhood.

Leaving the city was like crossing a line. On one side, the regular slightly mountainous terrain, full of barrel cactus, ocotillo and of course the ubiquitous prickly pear; on the other, well, there was a forest. Of saguaro cactuses. Like this:

These are not puny things. I enlisted the aid of the closest cactus-hugger to put it into perspective::

When the beast dies, it gets pretty woody and people do make things out of its carcass. Like fence posts and furniture.




While we were in the area, we dropped in to the Old Tucson Studios, known locally as Arizona's Hollywood, where many, many movies were filmed. Like Judge Roy Bean and about a gazillion John Wayne movies. The gift shop is .... um, well, it's tacky. No other word for it. But the sets themselves are like small museums, complete with period artifacts.



C'mon. 'Fess up now. You recognize at least one of those sets from a movie you count amongst your favourites.

Happy birthday to me

Yesterday was my birthday and, because I really, really, really wanted to go there, we had fully intended to visit Biosphere 2. However, it being a long weekend here, we opted instead for a driving tour of Cochise Stronghold and the Chiricahua National Monument where the crowds wouldn't likely be.

We had learned about Cochise in the Chiricahua Regional Museum & Research Center in Willcox while we were killing time between seminars at the birding festival on the weekend. This small, volunteer-run organization, located in a former building supply store, doesn't look like much from the outside, but is chock-a-block with information -- history, anthropology, archaeology, geology, biology ... well, pretty much everything, really.

We were definitely hooked and curious to see an area which is so different from what's around us at our little house, yet physically not very far away.

Chez nous

Chez Cochise

Cochise was an incredibly effective guerrilla fighter of the Chiricahua Apache group. (There are 6 other Apache groups from this area, including the Navajo). Apparently, he was never captured, or at least managed to escape whenever he was temporarily detained. When he died, his followers took his body, along with his favourite horse and his favorite dog, into these mountains where they deposited all three in a canyon. The exact location is still unknown.

Also when he died, the US government repatriated to its own holdings the 1.3 million acres of reservation land they had given him. Maybe that's where the term "Indian giver" came from.

Batty for bats

On Saturday, I lured Mr. T to a presentation titled The Other Wings over Willcox: Bats!

Now I have been crazy about bats ever since we moved to the ranch and realized there was no municipal program for mosquito control. Mr. T, not so much. He's inclined to (a) stay inside when the mozzies are out, (b) put up with them or (c) go somewhere they aren't.

However, there being only one car and two of us and Willcox being too far away for me to walk to the event, he agreed to sit in on the session.

While the presenter, Dr. Ronnie Sidner, did bring along 2 of her pet bats and we did get to touch one of them, photos were verboten given the likelihood of flash and the tendency of bats to lose their bearings in the presence of bright light.

We did learn a lot about them, tho'. For instance, did you know that no bat in North America weights more than 2 ounces? Or that each bat female has only one pup per year? Or that there are at least 3 distinct types of bats in NA (based on how much of their tail looks like an actual tail)? Fascinating, non?

Ronnie had two bats with her. Both were in semi-hibernation, as any normal bat should be at this time of year when there are no insects or flowers to speak of, but because she has had both of them for a number of years she was able to coax them to "perform" for us. Harry (or Hairy, we're not sure) is a big brown bat (no, really, that's its actual common name). Big? Well, he weighed about 1-1/2 ounces. Hairy? Definitely. And very soft, even softer than Uilleam's ear hair if you can imagine that.

The other one, Half Pint, was a Mexican Freetail Bat (obviously got across the border before The Fence was built) and weighed around 1/2 ounce, most of it in its ears which were even bigger than Prince Charles'.

Mr. T was suitably impressed. There may be bat boxes in our future.

People 1, Wildlife 0

Recently, we learned that we're actually not in Arizona at all but in an area known as the Sky Island Region. It's comprised of southeastern Arizona, southwestern New Mexico and northwestern Mexico. Keep the crossing of a political boundary in mind because it's important. The area represents the meeting of 4 major ecosystems (Rockies, Sierra Madres, Sonoran and Chihuahuan Deserts) and it's a transitional region, flora- and fauna-wise. For instance, there are ocelots and jaguars here, but also cougars and pumas. Very interesting, as Arte Johnson once said. (I can almost hear the under-40's saying, Who the hell is Arte Johnson?)

They call them Sky Islands because they're small islands of mountains surrounded by a sea of desert. So far, I've been unable to really capture that photographically, but here are a couple of my attempts to date:

Well, you can sort of see what it's like, tho' it's kind of like looking at the Grand Canyon -- pretty much mind-boggling.

The other day, we listened to a biologist from Sky Island Alliance, Sergio Ávila, talk about his research, tracking big cats and trying to figure out how they operate in this transitional zone. He uses hidden cameras, triggered by motion, so gets some really interesting photos indeed. Like house cats, transborder house cats. And javelinas, coatimundis and, of course, ocelots and jaguars. Interestingly, he said it's a lot easier working on the Mexican side of the border because the land is privately owned. On the US side, the land is "protected" so he has to deal with several levels of government and a slew of agencies to get permission to, say, set up a camera in a new spot.

So, getting back to the political boundary..... According to Sergio, there is a major issue pending for area wildlife which is the existence of what people here call The Fence. Another mind-boggling concept, The Fence is being constructed (by the US) all the way from California to Texas to keep out Mexicans, also known as illegals. Border Patrol is a big operation here and so is The Fence. 10 or 12 feet high, it is also dug in 8 or 10 feet so nobody can dig underneath it.

Ah. Does this fence serve its purpose? Not really. People just go somewhere else, where (so far) there is no Fence. Animals, on the other hand, don't have the same sophisticated problem-solving skills as highly motivated humans. So, unable to reach, for example, a traditional feeding or breeding ground, they languish south (or north) of The Fence. You can imagine what consequences might result.

On the bright side, The Fence isn't finished yet so there's always hope people will reconsider other options for dealing with the perceived problem. And there is a fair number of people who don't agree with the approach. They don't get a lot of press coverage but are apparently working hard to make that happen.

Brain cramps

Safeway clerk: And do you have a Club Card, ma'am?

Me: Uh.... well, I do, but not with me.

Safeway clerk: No problem. I can look it up by phone number. (places hands in readiness over keyboard)

(I give her the phone number.)

Safeway clerk (after entering it): Sorry, it doesn't have that number.

Me: Oh. Um. Well, I guess I haven't changed it to the new number yet. (thinking, Sheesh, we've only been there 4 years, what's the rush?)

Safeway clerk: I could try the old number. Do you know that one?

Me: (Is she being sarcastic or what?) Uhhhhhhh..... oh, yeah, it's 306-555-0102.

Safeway clerk (enters numbers): Well, it worked.

Me: Great!

Safeway clerk (does final total): That'll be $48.71. And you saved $17.38 today, Mrs. Rink.

Me: (Mrs Rink???? Oh, yeah. Guess that wasn't it.)

Birds on the brain, but not bird-brained

I'll get off this bird kick after the weekend when we'll be hanging out with real birders at the Wings over Willcox bird festival. We're planning to take in several workshops and, if I can finesse Mr. T into it, we'll also spend some time building birdhouses. Last time we did something like this was at the Wings over somewhere else bird festival 2 years ago in St. George, Utah. At that one, I enthused so long and loudly about the birdhouse-building workshop that he agreed to come along. I distinctly recall him saying something along the lines of "Yeah, it'll be fun." And it was. We and about 50 small people hammered away at Home Depot birdhouse kits for, oh, about an hour until one of us couldn't take the embarrassment any more and we left. This year, I'm sure it will be different....

Meanwhile, we've had no small success in actually capturing our birding adventures on film, to wit:

One of a thanksgiving of wild turkeys we happened to spot in Ramsey Canyon, a wildlife area south and a bit west of Sierra Vista. I'm pretty sure this one's name is Tom. Or perhaps Tomás, given the proximity to Mexico. There were almost as many turkeys in this group as Border Patrol officers in the park.

Moving on to Montezuma Canyon National

Monument, we made the acquaintance of a greed of Mexican jays. They're almost indistinguishable from our gray jays (well, except for being blue and speaking Spanish) and have the same nickname, Camp Robber. This one's name was.... you guessed it, Jay. Or maybe it was Rob.

And at long last we encountered not one, but two, roadrunners when I actually had a camera in my hand. Very clever camouflage, non? And they're not just a pretty face either. Apparently, they are somewhat attracted to humans for their use as "beaters". You know, as in safari. They (according to my source, who shall remain nameless) follow along when people trundle into the desert because our clomping feet tend to send little snakes and lizards running for cover. At which point, the crafty roadrunner puts on his or her bib and prepares for dinner. Just like in the cartoons.

And finally, this is the view coming down from Montezuma Canyon. If you look closely, you can see a bit of a tail light of the ubiquitous white Border Patrol vehicle on the left.

Arizona is for the birds

We stopped in to the local Benedictine monastery on our way to Bisbee the other day. Mostly because it looked like an interesting place and the sign said Visitors welcome. Also (and I know there are some who will appreciate the concept) there was a sign saying Thrift Shop.

The shop, alas, was not open, though I did pick up half a dozen books at the sale table in the reading room.

There were a couple of interesting walks around the place. We were lured in by the sight of ...... peacocks. And peahens. Just what you'd expect to find in the middle of the desert.

And we've been on a bird jag ever since. Yesterday, we spent the afternoon at the Whitewater Draw Nature Conservation area, winter home to 40,000 sandhill cranes. And a few other birds. We caught them in a between-meal moment, just hanging out and chatting with each other. You'd think 40,000 cranes chatting would be loud and obnoxious, but actually it was kind of.... well, soothing. Like water running in the background.

We also saw one of the thousands of hawks that winter here. I'm sure I recognized this one -- he hung over our hill a lot last summer.

There are, as we'd been led to expect, a gazillion kinds of birds in the southwest. So far, we've seen three roadrunners at relatively close range, but not when either of us had a camera to hand. There's a Gila woodpecker that hangs out around Birdsong Ranch where we're staying which I've been unable to capture either. However, I had better luck with a couple of others.

Phoebe

George

There are others, but they'll have to wait. It's 5:45, there's hardly any light and it's hovering around 7 degrees. I know. It's colder in Canada and I'll quit whining now.

Batch processing is alive and well...

... and living south of Benson, Arizona.

When I started working in the computer business some 30 years ago, batch processing was the gold standard. Actually, it was the only standard. Nothing happened in real time, at least on computers.

Technology evolved. Batch went the way of the dodo. Or so I had assumed. As it turns out, internet access in this, somewhat remote part of the continent, is on the dodgy side. Actually, there is no access in our space. I have to set up the laptop on the patio of the main house. Doing that depends on (a) being in the vicinity when both weather and sun are favourable and (b) having something to blog about (Mr. T is on the job scouting out interesting things to see and do even as we speak).

All of which is a lead-up to telling you I'll do my best to show up on a regular basis. But when there are gaps of several days or even a week, you'll know I'm just putting together a batch and you'll get several posts in one fell swoop.

Like today.

Interesting stuff with no unifying theme

I'd call this Random Tuesday Thoughts, but that's already taken. So, Interesting stuff with no unifying theme it is....

Mobile homes are a biggie in this part of the world. Something about affordability, I suspect. Most of them are butt ugly, but we noticed one on a lot in T or C that we thought we might not even mind living in, should it come to that....

Well, it would look better, as in more congruent with the general architecture of the southwest, if it weren't sitting on cindercrete blocks in a parking lot.

Len, one of the owners of the casita we're in says, Every plant in Arizona either has thorns or is working on it. No kidding....

Landscaping presents a different challenge here than in Saskatchewan. People who care about the street appeal of their property (trust me, that's not everyone) opt for plants like these...

I don't get the pyramidal cedars, but they're everywhere....

Boot Hill. Experience of a lifetime. For some, not so much.....

There are a lot of characters in Tombstone including, it seems, Inspector Clouseau...