Sunday, April 1, 2012
Hello, April!
Decided yesterday that we wanted to take the guided canyon hike to the painted shelves and caves. Tony wanted the 3:00 PM tour, I wanted the 10:00 AM slot. As it turned out the morning was overcast and cooler, so we headed for the ranger station to begin the journey. A very knowledgeable guide by the name of Dave Gaskins took our group of six down the steep, uneven trail to the bottom of the canyon, stopping along the way to comment on various aspects of natural interest around us.
The Rangers view this as a “semi-rigorous” hike, I would disagree and say it’s tough. The heat adds a real tension to hiking – 95 degrees is hot when you’re moving down and up these wild stairs. Believe me, I’m thankful for those stairs as they gave us an opportunity to see what Dave, and some anthropologists, call world class cave painting. Our group was a varying degrees of fitness – a 30ish stick of a bicyclist who just finished her Peace Corps tour in Honduras, got a job as an internist in Seattle and decided to BIKE there from Virginia, to her mother who was quite overweight. We all decided early on to help each other and we stuck to that promise to the end. Great team work.
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| Seminole Canyon Ranger Station |
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| Seminole Canyon Shaman |
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| Cat Feet at 95 degrees |
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| Prickly Pear Bloom at Seminole Canyon |
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| Seminole Canyon SP View |
Seminole Canyon itself is muy beautiful, with high walls and pockets of water caught in smooth rock divits. When it rains hard, this canyon becomes a torrent that is unexpected. Lizards ran all over the rocks ahead of us, stopping to do lizard push ups. More stores to the first stop, Fate Bell, named after Lafayette Bell. The paintings speak for themselves as our pictures show. We were all just astounded that they’re still there after 10,000, and that no one knows what they stand for or why they are there. By the end of the tour, our group learned to embrace the concept that we can’t know everything, just enjoy what’s in front of you.
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| Seminole Canyon |
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| Seminold Canyon Bottom Water |
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| Seminole Canyon Fate Bell Ceiling |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Pictographs |
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| Seminole Canyon Hummingbird Nest |
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| Seminole Canyon Shelf |
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| Seminole Canyon at the Bottom |
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| Seminole Canyon Fate Bell Site |
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| Seminole Canyon at the Bottom |
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| Seminole Canyon Water Holes |
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| Dave G our tour guide |
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| Seminole Canyon Ocotillo |
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| Seminole Canyon |
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As we traveled to the next stop, the conversation about religion, spirituality, being human, living off the land, war – all continued on non-stop. It was beautiful and we all had opinions, some which may have changed during this time in the Canyon. I felt dizzy and peaceful and would have loved to stop to meditate in these beautiful shelves. There were spirits and ghosts all around me, all friendly and welcoming. Dave shared stories of people he knows in the area, from Shaman to his Presbyterian congregation to anthropologists and archeologists, peyote dealers and native American holy men. He accepts it all. In his studies he has found that the original five groups of people who seem to have started our population, all have very similar spiritual beliefs.
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| Fate Bell Pictures |
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| Fate Bell Shaman Pictograph |
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| Fate Bell Grinding Holes |
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| Our Group at Seminole Canyon |
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| Seminole Canyon Shell Fossil at Fate Bell |
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| Fate Bell Shelf |
After our hike I thought I’d take a nap, but got busy watching the show – a group of 42 bikers and support staff coming into camp near us after their 80 mile trek. Can’t imagine riding in this heat, but the group is mostly middle aged to old and they all made it. They started in San Diego and are biking for 52 days to St. Augustine, FL. The Chef’s truck was next to us so TC introduced himself to get all the above information. We gave them use of our picnic table and shelter, for which we got a free dinner!
TC spent the day reading in the shade while I made a delicious chicken salad for lunch. We were out of bread so I also made two loaves of wheat which turned out perfectly delicious. As the day wore on I then spent hours uploading, then trying to identify all the pictures I’ve take – especially those of birds. It was back and forth from picture to Audubon book, painstakingly trying to match with what I had seen. I was so pleased to note that I have really captured some great shots of birds I’ve never seen before! It’s as thrilling as collecting shells.
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| Hooded Oriole at Seminole Canyon |
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| Mockingbird |
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| Mockingbird | | |
One of our new neighbors came over and he too is a birder. We were able to compare pictures and try to identify birds we weren’t sure about. Of course he’s got a camera with a foot long lens, while we’re still using our trusty Kodak. The pics our camera takes are fantastic.
After dinner we all kind of ended up outside talking with the laundry lady for the bikers, the bird guy, our hiking couple (who have unplugged and are traveling the states in their camper), plus whoever wandered by at sunset. The sky to the SW had been dark and ominous for some time, and we all watched the massive lightning show for hours. Roku lumbered out from his hot day of sleep and took up his post at his favorite hunting bush. He actually took a liking to one of our hiking buds and flopped on the pavement for her while she loved him up. Again, pictures tell a thousand words, so I’ll shut up. Enjoy.
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| Seminole Cat |
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| Seminole Clouds |
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| Seminole Clouds |
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| Seminole Clouds |
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| Seminole Clouds |
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| Seminole Sunset |
April 2, 2012
Another splendid day, awoken by the biker chef and staff, pitting ants against each other. Men. Roku joins me for a snuggle then hits his box for a long days sleep. Soon Tony is up and we…..hang for a few hours.
Destination today is Pandale. A Ranger here suggests this ghost town, or minimized town, as a good place to go swimming. Sounds great with this crazy 90+ degree weather. We head out, miss the road and end up in Langtry. Anybody seen “The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean”? Well it all happened in Langtry, and they have preserved his home and his saloon. We really had no intention of going, but, once again, are so glad we did. The cactus garden alone is achingly beautiful in its own prickly, knobby way. The state has done a beautiful job of laying out the paved paths and plants, and preserving Bean’s remarkable kingdom.
We get new directions from our friends at the Bean estate and travel the opposite direction about 15 miles. We see RR (Ranch Road) 1024 and swing left. Left is also where we leave any semblance of civilization.
This country is dry and tough. There are two major rivers: the Pecos and the Rio Grande. Water isn’t found easily, although the bushes and cacti are green, for the most part. Grass is nonexistent unless coaxed by hydration, of which there isn’t any readily available. The juxtaposition to this non-water issue is that when it does rain here, it hits that hardpan and floods the lower reaches. By lower reaches I mean roads and canyons. We know kids here don’t have snow days, but we’re pretty sure they have flood days.
This land is ranched, not farmed. There are goats, sheep and cattle. We saw all three on the 53 mile drive to Pandale, even a big old black steer in the road who looked at us then continued to chew. The goats were the best because the little ones scamper off, tails swishing in circles, when they hear a car. Big laughs.
There are intermittent ranches along RR 1024, some with a raunchy slogan in wrought iron or wood above – “Empty Pockets Ranch” is one I remember; some with just their names. A few for sale. Intermittent means five, ten or more miles between. There is a lot of land out here, it all looks the same, and we cannot fathom why anyone would ranch in the heat and dust.
We drive and drive and drive, the road going up and down like a roller coaster. That part is pleasant, as I like rolley roads. But man, it goes on and on for 53 miles, then another five on rutted dirt road. The rutted dirt road part is killing TC, as he emotionally feels every hit his darling Sebring takes. He says, twice, “Well…..”, as if he’s getting ready to suggest turning around. I ignore him as we have come to far to turn around. The dirt road gives up more ranches and houses, just sitting in the nowhere. Many have “No Trespassing, Hunting, Fishing” signs on their closed gates. All have gates. They are surrounded by unbelievably high and beautiful rock faces, dotted with caves and swirling in color changes. It is a beautiful place, and I bet the night full of stars and moon are ephemeral.
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| Pecos River at Pandale |
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| Pecos River at Pandale |
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| Pecos River at Pandale |
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| Pandale Graffiti I love |
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| Pandale Resting Spot |
But…..where is TV, phone, internet? How many freezers do they need to have, how much storage for stocking up on food? You wouldn’t want to drive to the store very often, but you would want some interaction with the world. Having been out of Verizon range for three days my phone was suddenly alive receiving texts. I grabbed it and looked down to see one miraculous bar. Tony skidded to a halt, made a quick phone call and I exchanged a few catch-up texts with Alex (her 22nd birthday is tomorrow!). Driving 300 feet down the road we lost the connection again. We would get all these questions answered by a local expert later.
Finally came to what must have been Pandale – one building standing that was closed in ’73. The bridge over the river gives a beautiful view of blue-green pools surrounding flat rocks. I can see why kayakers put in here and locals use this as a swimming hole to cool off in the godawful heat. We inched our way down to the water which, at the edge, is slimy. Walked around it a bit and took some pics and were quite finished.
I was glad we’d made the trip and found our destination, and glad to be hurtling back to Comstock. As always the trip seemed shorter on the return. We went into the town of Comstock to try and find a gas station, which we did - $3.89 for a gallon of regular. I walked in the store to see what was what, and found a table full of men and one woman drinking beer and smoking. I liked it.
She asked if I needed anything and I told her we were just back from Pandale. The fellows then turned around and I asked them all, “Why would anyone live out there?” They all piped in with loving this lifestyle of no traffic, no noise, no people, working hard. One smart ass said the woman lives out there so she can run around naked. Ha ha. The conversation that ensued was fantastic and rich, especially once Tony joined us, plus two more who had been taunting a neighbor outside. We laughed a lot and asked a lot of questions about one another. When we told them where we were from, one of the guys said, “Seattle!?”, like that old ad about salsa being made in “New York City!?”
The woman who runs this joint peeled away from the men and I could then ask all the questions we had had above. Her answers in a nutshell: she has two freezers; she shops once a month in Del Rio (about 1 ½ hours away); she has a satellite phone and a dish for it; she has dishes for her tv and internet; it cost her $28,000.00 to drill a well 800’; average price of land is about $600.00 an acre; she pays about $160.00+ a month for electricity; the rancher’s kids are moving away; many who live out there make most of their money by charging hunters to hunt on their land. She confirms that it is blessedly quiet, there is no traffic, and the nights are so beautiful “you can hear the stars twinkling.”
One of the fellows who was more tuned up on hops began his rail against the Mexicans. The border is very close in this area and the Border Patrol has a large station in Comstock. He thinks the 200 they have now don’t do anymore than the 20 they used to have. I asked him what’s the problem with the Mexicans? He said, “I don’t like them.” I asked why. He said, “Because my daddy taught me not to.” I said, “Bullshit, you can think for yourself.” Everyone piped in with “it looks like Mexico here now.” Valid point, but what’s the problem with that? It ground down to not wanting illegals in the country – we all agree on that. They extend it a bit by saying we pay for their entitlements, as in the emergency room visits, kid’s schooling, welfare. We all agree that anyone who is illegal in this country should not get entitlements. And then I turned it over to Tony, who has the answer. “Fine the employers who are hiring them.”
We hauled off with lots of laughs and good byes, I’m sure giving them a week’s worth of talking with everyone who came in.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
HAPPY 22ND BIRTHDAY ALEX BEDDO!!!!!
This is indeed a wonderful day in my life, the day, 22 years ago, my beautiful daughter was born at 1:14 in the morning. She wanted out! I had a three hour labor and delivery that turns that experience into a short, yet very painful experience. She was so tiny at 7 lbs 2 oz! We had to buy a little pink premie outfit so that she had something to wear, and she wore it for weeks. She grew into the most beautiful toddler, with curly blonde hair and the sweetest little green eyes. She loved singing and dancing, walking up and down Lamm’s Lane, dipping her little noggin in mud puddles. She was the most social kid throughout school and we always had a houseful of her friends, eating, laughing, dancing on their DDR pads. She’s a beautiful woman, and a fine citizen of the world.
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