Wednesday, November 28, 2012

"Audemus Jura Nostra Defendere" & Other Southern Oddities

Your incurable nomads are back on the road.  We are off to Florida for the winter, taking Thanksgiving week to get there.  Stops thus far have included Shreveport and Livingston, LA, for one night each, and, then, four nights in Elberta, AL.  Thus begins our travel blog for another four month segment.

The drive across the piney woods of East Texas on Monday was interesting in that there was a distinct change in color amongst the various deciduous trees.  Efforts to capture images through the motor home windows proved fruitless and there were no convenient stopping places that afforded a decent view.  Hence, you will have to take our word for it.

After an uneventful night in Shreveport, we took I49 south to I-10.  This route passes through only a couple of towns and leaves the traveler feeling as though he/she has spent the entire day in the central Louisiana boonies.  Traffic was not bad until we hit I-10 and then it got fairly thick…particularly as we passed through Red Stick (Baton Rouge).  The highway through LA’s capitol has been under perpetual construction/repair for at least 10 years that we have firsthand knowledge about and, perhaps, since early settlement days.  The sad part is that it is apparently a futile effort as the highway remains choked with traffic all the time.

Between Lafayette and Baton Rouge lies a fascinating stretch of geography.  The Atchafalaya Basin is an enduring drainage system that dates back more than 10,000 years.  Covering almost a million acres, it stretches about 100 miles from north to south.  Although we just drove through it this time (yes, there is a bridge some 20 miles long that passes through it), we have taken small-boat tours through the swamp on previous visits here and have been amazed by it.

 




Just East of Baton Rouge, Livingston is a pretty good place to spend the night if, as we have, one decides to break the travel day into 250 miles or so increments.  Since we are on a bit of a time crunch (brought on by ourselves), we have had to travel on interstate highways, those vast ribbons of concrete crisscrossing the country east and west, north and south.  They are a boon to those who need to make good time from one point to another, but as we have observed elsewhere, the trip is the same no matter where you go.  The gas stations are the same, the fast food joints and the same, and all of the stores—big and little box—that line the interstates are all the same.  To find any flavor other that plain vanilla, one must abandon the interstate highways and find small roads that pass through the heart of small towns.

An interesting observation (well, it’s interesting to me) is that the major truck stops such as Pilot, Flying J, Love’s, TA, and one or two that I can’t think of are running a rip-off.  The cost of fuel is always many cents higher at these truck stops than is true off the beaten path.  They also price fuel differently for cash or credit…always more for credit, of course.  Even their cash prices are higher than at other stations just a few blocks off the interstates who apparently can’t afford to differentiate because they lack the volume of the big stores.  It is kind of the reverse of Wal-Mart and other big box retail stores' tactics who price little folk out of the market by having lower prices that the mom and pop shops can afford to offer.

Back on the road:  The Wednesday before Thanksgiving is among the busiest travel days of the year and our experience on I-10 from Livingston through Mobile, AL, where we left it to head south, reflected those statistics.  While traffic never came to a halt, it did run heavily for the entire time.  Some folks were crazy, and some were not, but we all managed to get somewhere safely.
Lake Osprey RV Country Club
Our four night stop in Elberta included Thanksgiving Day as well as my birthday on Saturday.  We had dinner with the other homeless folks here in the Lake Osprey RV Country Club.  The park management provided turkey and ham and the rest of us brought a plate to fill out the menu.  There were lots of traditional things, but some unusual stuff as well.  For example, we brought pecan pie ice cream from Trader Joe’s.  We all ate too much, drank a lot of wine, and bragged a lot about our adventures on the road.  Sometimes you walk away from experiences like that with newly minted life-long friends, other times you just walk away. 

We have fond memories of meeting Brad and Nancy Robb nine years ago in San Diego, and we have been friends ever since.  Brad and I have birthdays two days apart (he’s the old one).  That first year we had a satisfactorily good Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant at a marina in Chula Vista.  That meal pretty well sealed the deal for the four of us.  We’ve been running into one another all over the country as well as keeping in touch via email.

You never know what you are going to find when you get off the beaten path.  Just south of our RV Resort, a fellow has built a new marina and along with places to park the boats, he has added a marble fountain and a number of prehistoric sculptures.  It sounded odd to us, but when we explored it, we found it was indeed true.

 



 


Sixty-nine is a milestone for many people and I’m no exception.  To celebrate the occasion we ventured out to one of our favorite haunts in Gulf Shores, Lulu’s.  The restaurant is owned and operated by Lucy Buffett, the “crazy sista” of Jimmy Buffett of Margarita fame.  Our previous experiences there have been fun, but on Saturday Alabama and Auburn were playing for football bragging rights in Alabama.  True to their Southern roots, they had the sound up excruciatingly loud on the many, many large-screen TVs located throughout the store.  Needless to say, those of us with background noise discrimination issues found it more than annoying.  The food was good, however, and in spite of the racket we had a good time.  We’ll just avoid the place on football game day in the future.

We had two more days to Sarasota, our first week-long stop.  We took a back roads round-about way from Lake Osprey to I-10 through the red-dirted Alabama countryside to avoid going through Pensacola.  The stretch across the Panhandle was uneventful, though traffic was very heavy.  About 10 miles outside of Lake City, our intended overnight stop, we decided we were making outstanding progress and would, therefore, go 60 miles further down the road Sunday afternoon.  Subsequently, we changed reservations and then about five miles further traffic came to a full stop.  This was 4-5 miles west of the intersection of I-10 & I-75.  We eventually got to I-75 and turned south to find the three lanes of traffic almost completely stopped.  It chugged along for the next 2 ½ hours until we got to our over-night stop some 60 miles down the road.  What a nightmare!  We traveled on the same days last year in Arizona and had no experiences like this.  Apparently, everyone in south Florida who knew anyone north of Lake City went there for Thanksgiving and were consequently trying to get home on Sunday.

The next day we had an easy drive into Sarasota without incident and almost no traffic. There will be a short family reunion of the Henderson siblings (the first in 10 years) and we will report on that if it proves appropriate to do so.


Siesta  Key, Sarasota
 

Monday, September 3, 2012

Land of Entrapment

We’ve wrapped up our summer sojourn to New Mexico & Colorado with a short stop in Albuquerque.    ABQ, as it is affectionately called, is a favorite stop of ours in our transmigration of the West.  From here it will be two moderate road days and then we will be home.  Our plan was to hide out here through the Labor Day weekend, so as to avoid excess traffic on I-40 to Amarillo and US 287 to Denton.  Hence, we will be leaving here on Tuesday morning.  This six day stop over allows us to see a few things we’ve not seen, visit some favorite haunts, and load up on green chili—Hatch chilies have just been harvested and vendors with roasting machines are everywhere.  It has worked splendidly.

Vendors Roasting Chilies


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Our trip started in Taos and while there, we were near the Rio Grande River Gorge.  At Creede, we were parked for a month on a short bluff overlooking the Rio Grande River and hiked around the river’s headwaters.  Now that we are in ABQ, we have once again encountered the Rio Grande River.  I suppose we should have called these series of blogs our Rio Grande Odyssey.
Rio Grande River in ABQ
Thursday found us prowling around in Old Town.  The oldest building (the Catholic Church on the Plaza) there was constructed in 1793, although the area was inhabited long before then.  We go to Old Town for the flavor and for a green chili enchilada fix.  Little Anita’s is our favorite restaurant, but we’ve learned to branch out and sample other places.  We always go to Old Town before the crowds and usually have most of it to ourselves with a few other hearty souls.  We don’t much like the mass of humanity that shows up there around noon, so we are usually finished by then—or at least well hidden in Little Anita’s.  Most of the shops carry junky tourista stuff, but there are a few jewelry traders that carry authentic Native American-made pieces.  Our favorite one has lots of old pawn jewelry; you know that stuff wasn’t stamped out in Taiwan.
San Felipe de Neri Church
 
Jewelry Vendors in Old Town

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The Sandia Mountains lie to the east of ABQ in much the same way as the mountains are east of Salt Lake City.  For those of us from the front range of Colorado, this arrangement is distinctly disconcerting.  We grew up with the major range of mountains to our west and they served as a marker for direction for decades.  In many ways the adjustment to no mountains is somewhat less troubling than having them on the wrong horizon.  One could liken it to learning to drive on the other side of the road; it takes all of your concentration to get it right.  In all of our visits here we have never actually been in the Sandia Mountains.  We decided to correct that.   ABQ has an aerial tram that goes to the top of the Crest, but we did it the old fashioned way—by driving the twisty 14-mile road to the top.  On Friday, we took the Turquoise Trail (NM 14) up the east side of the Sandias to the Sandia Crest road and then to the top (relatively short at 10,650’, it is the tallest around ABQ).  We were hoping for spectacular views, but some agency was doing a prescribed burn in the area and the skies were full of a smoky haze that seriously limited visibility.  Oh, well, there is always next time.
Smoky downtown ABQ in center or picture
Not to waste the day, we drove 20 odd miles up to the old mining town of Madrid (pronounced MAD-rid) for a look around and lunch  It started as a coal mining town in the late 1800s and continued in that capacity until the 1950s when it became a ghost town.  Recently, the town has been taken over by art galleries, and, presumably, artists.   We love art and were temped, but we’ve used up all of our wall space at home and there is no wall space in our RV, so we just looked.  A few years ago when we last visited Madrid we were talking with one of the gallery owners and she allowed as how she was from New Mexico originally, moved away, and then returned to finally settle down.  She said for her, “New Mexico isn’t the land of enchantment; it’s the land of entrapment.”  Wow, what a powerful sentiment.  We agree with her in many respects…the high desert, the mesas, and the canons all speak to us in countless compelling ways.

Typical Madrid gallery/shop

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
This will be our last blog for this trip unless we decide to write a summary of the summer.  We will resume our travels in mid-November with a trip to the southeast, including a visit to the Florida Keys.  Feel free to comment on any of our blogs, we would like to hear from you.

 

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Durango, Los Pinos, & Horse Pucky

Changing Colors
Although it is just the last week in August, autumn is slowly coming to the high country.  Low bushes and grasses have already begun their inexorable descent into winter hibernation.  Even some of the lofty aspen near timberline have shifted a shade or two.  Certainly, days are getting a little shorter and night-time temperatures are slipping lower.  Soon the forests here will be a riot of color: orange, yellow, and many shades of red.  Aspen, nearly everyone’s favorite in this part of the country, will exhibit all of those ranges of color once they reach their full bloom.  Additionally, the small rodents display behavior foreshadowing the coming of fall.  The chipmunks and squirrels while normally…well… squirrelly, are nearly frantically scurrying around making last minute collections for their winter caches.

We will soon be leaving Colorado for New Mexico and then back home to Texas.  We have begun squeezing in as many outings as possible since our time is so short.  On Friday, we took a day trip into Durango, fred’s boyhood home.  The town has grown significantly (some 16+%) in the last decade and now is close to 17,000.  Of course, the county is much larger at 52,000+--Colorado’s fifteenth most populated county.  Growth equals change and Durango has changed significantly.  Mostly, it has become a mecca for touristas and rich folks who want a piece of the mountains all to themselves.  People always scoff when I say that, but a quick perusal of Durango’s multi-list will show most houses around a half million or more in a very down real estate market.  Our home in Texas would cost more than twice what it is worth (not necessarily what we would get in the present market) in Durango and would have none of the amenities.
In any event, we walked Main Avenue which on Monday hosted Stage I of the USA Pro Challenge bicycle race.  By the way, the final stage of that race will be in Denver today (Sunday).  Main is loaded with the usual tourista curio and T-shirt shops.  There are lots of places selling turquoise jewelry, ostensibly made by Native Americans.  Of course, the suburbs have all of the big box stores where you can by the stuff you really need.  We had an excellent lunch at Carvers Brewery, one of the many such establishments occupying downtown.
Los Pinos River is one of the drainages that supplies Vallecito Reservoir.  It also has a great trail that follows it north into the Weminuche Wilderness area.  Saturday found us making our way up that gorgeous valley for a pleasant day hike.  Well, it would have been more pleasant had it not been a favorite for day tripping equestrians and overnight back-packing and horse-pack trips.  We used to describe motorcycling as a olfactory experience because you are in the open air and smell everything that has an odor anywhere near your ride.  This hike was an olfactory experience, too.  It was mostly like what we imagine living in a stable must be like before you become accustomed to the aroma of hot horse pucky and sweaty livestock.
Los Pinos Trailhead
View Rom the Trail

At the Wilderness Boundry
Los Pinos River

Aside from the fragrance of the trail, the forest was absolutely stunning.  It was an easy trail without the normal high elevation gain one usually finds on these hikes.  The Los Pinos River is a beauty and it is still carrying quite a bit of water for this time of year.  On a Saturday, it should have been crawling with anglers, but we only saw two on our entire hike.  There is high moisture along the trail and in the surrounding forest due to heavy winter snows resulting in a wide variety of fungi.  They come in many shapes and sizes; and, presumably, lethality.  The first few miles of the trail borders a ranch called Granite Peaks Ranch.  This is a very beautiful 565-acre ranch that has three miles of the Los Pinos running through it and the setting is to die for.  Curiosity, being what it is, took us to Google and a quick search showed that the ranch in its entirety is for sale for a mere $24,000,000.  Wrap it up, Jack; I want that place.
Part of Granite Peaks Ranch from the Trail
Fungi














Mas Fungi



Thursday, August 23, 2012

Holy Merde, What Was That?

Today we took the day off to enjoy some down time in-as-much as the forecast called for heavy rain, thunderstorms, and possible flash flooding.  No fun being on hiking and 4 X 4 trails in a downpour.  We figured the forecasters managed to get it wrong again when the day dawned sunny and warm…well, warm for Vallecito.  We took a three mile walk up to the national forest campground and back to get the blood flowing.

After lunch we settled in with reasonably good books and were planning to waste the day away.  The rain began around 3:00 p.m., gentle at first and then a genuine gully washer, or as we call them in Texas, a frog strangler.  The rain continued for a time and the thunder and lightning increased significantly.  Around 3:30 we decided to preheat the oven for an early dinner when not 30 yards away, lightning struck a huge (40-50 ft. tall) Ponderosa pine tree.  We have never been so close to a strike before.  The ball of fire was huge and the noise so loud it reminded us of canon fire.  Almost instantaneously, debris began raining down on our motorhome.  Our first reaction was that we were the ones struck by lightning.  Fortunately for us, it struck the tree described above.  That tree promptly fell on a small trailer.  Oh, merde, we thought, there are people in that trailer…older than us people.

In spite of the rain and the risk of additional lightning, we grabbed raincoats and ran to the trailer to see if they were okay.  I crawled under the downed awning and found a window and yelled to see if everyone was okay.  It turned out that they were unharmed, but the tree had pinned their door closed so that they couldn’t get out.  The wife said that she could smell smoke and thought the trailer was on fire.  I told her I would check by walking around the trailer.  All I found was a burned electrical cord that had been out for their outdoor lighting…that was probably what she smelled; that or burned ozone from the lightning strike.  Interestingly, the lightning didn’t burn the tree at all—just turned it into firewood.  Just after I determined that they were okay, employees and other people from the park began to arrive,  and we determined that we needed a chainsaw and the park’s tractor to help remove the tree so the couple could get out of their trailer; it was way too big to move by hand.

The chainsaw and tractor arrived pretty quickly.  Work commenced and we had the tree removed in pretty short order.  Once extracted from the trailer, Susan took the wife to our rig where it was warm, dry, and safe from falling debris.  Within an hour and a half their entire site had been cleaned up and all of the tree branches, etc., were hauled off.  Park employees also picked up all of the debris (think kindling) from all of the nearby sites, including our own.  The only damage was to the trailer’s awning; it literally absorbed almost all of the weight of the tree.  Of course, it was ravaged beyond salvage, but probably saved the trailer itself from serious damage--as in being crushed like an empty beer can.   Susan and I are going to apply for Colorado’s official rescue ticket so we can do this legitimately.

 

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Fire, Rain, & Old Mountain Towns

In the previous blog posting, we mentioned the Missionary Ridge fire that occurred in 2002 near Durango in southwestern Colorado.  Recently, we learned that the statistics we quoted were wrong.  We have since verified that the data we used was erroneous and is corrected here.  The MR fire, which ran from June 9 through July 28, burned more than 70,000 acres at a cost of about $41 million.  The Vallecito Valley, where we are currently staying, was hit particularly hard during the fire losing 28 of the 58 houses that were burned.  A tribute to the firefighters and others was the commissioning of a series of wood carvings by a local wood carver depicting actual scenes from the fire.  The result is 15 carvings (standing about 18’ tall and weighing some 2,600 lbs.) that have been placed at various places around Vallecito Reservoir—usually where the sponsors do business or live.  We took the Tour of Carvings and enjoyed the rustic artwork one day while exploring the area around the lake.

Missionary Ridge Fire Remains
Missionary Ridge Fire Remains
Tour of Carvings
Tour of Carvings
Tour of Carvings

We’ve been dodging afternoon rains most days, but have managed to get out and about some, including a drive up Middle Mountain Road and then a hike from the old ghost town of Tuckerville to a beautiful overlook some three miles from the town site.  The forested region we passed through was notable because of the large number of huge trees that had been unceremoniously snapped off in the violent winter storms that frequent this place.   The “trail” was a closed 4 X 4 road that was almost vertical having been used for mining operations in the 1920s.  The road ended at the Weminuche Wilderness boundary.  There was just a very short hike to the overlook.  Unfortunately, as you will see below, the view was less than spectacular as afternoon clouds and rain had set in obscuring what undoubtedly would have been stunning views of the San Juans.  On the bright side, we were able to field test our ponchos once again…actually, we are getting close to wearing them out.
View from Middle Mountain Road to the West
 
A couple of drowned rats!
Bully Bully -- Our only "wildlife" on this outing
Tree broken by winter storm


When we drove to Vallecito from Montrose last week we stopped in Silverton, but couldn’t find a good place to park our motorhome.  We promised ourselves we would return someday for a good look around.  Well, that day was yesterday.  Although it was cool (we had an overnight low of 40°), the skies were clear and it looked like a great day for a road trip.  We had a pretty good look around town (meaning we darkened the doorstep of almost every store), enjoyed a fairly good lunch, and acquired the obligatory T-shirt before working our way back to Vallecito.  The Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad is still running two trains a day and so town was packed with touristas.  Apparently, the train runs three times a day in peak season, but students have resumed classes so they’ve cut back to two.  We had planned to take a four wheel drive road for part of the return, but a mile into it the road was closed for repairs.  It seemed kinda odd to us as 4 X 4 roads by definition need repair or they would be autobahns.  Oh, well.

Silverton from Molas Pass


 
 
 
 
 
 



Downtown Silverton



Durango & Silverton Railroad
 

 

Friday, August 17, 2012

Weminuche...both sides now!

Wednesday morning (August 15th) dawned without a cloud in the sky…a perfect day to travel from Montrose through Ouray and Silverton to Vallecito Reservoir via Red Mountain Pass (11,018’)—the Million Dollar Highway.  Not!  The sky, although cloudless, was milky white with smoke from fires upwind in Washington state.  We have made the trip often, but were still disappointed that the spectacular views would be obscured by smoke.


San Juan Mtns from just north of Ouray












San Juan Mtns closer to Ouray
Many RVers refuse to drive Red Mountain Pass because of its narrowness, tight curves, and steep drop-offs…oh, yeah, the lack of guardrails really spooks them.This has never bothered our driver as he remembers riding over the pass many times in the winter during the late 1940s when the byway was a very nasty gravel road.The original part of the highway was a toll road built in 1883 by Otto Mears and used to haul ore and supplies before the railroads were constructed.In 1926, it became part of the federal highway system.

North side of Red Mountain Pass


That sucker looks pretty deep!
Avalanch Shed
South side of Red Mountain Pass

Red Mountain on left
Taking a break on Coal Bank Pass
We had a largely uneventful ride over the passes (we also traversed Molas--10,666’--and Coal Bank Hill--10,910’ Passes).  We had two pretty scary deer events; the first near Ridgeway and the second on the Durango side of Coal Bank Hill.  On both occasions, we had mule deer does within very few feet of becoming road-kill under our motorhome.  Quick thinking brought the air horns on the rig to bear and in both cases the does skittered away in the opposite direction.  Needless to say we were both experiencing serious adrenalin rushes afterward.
Our location for the next two weeks is at Vallecito Reservoir some 22 miles northeast of Durango.  Our RV park is one mile from the Weminuche Wilderness boundary…many miles south of where we were hiking near Creede, but a hardy soul, with time on his or her hands, could make the several day trek north and come out at 30 Mile Campground where we began our Squaw Creek Trail hike.  If you have a faulty memory, or perhaps it has all run together for you, refer to our earlier blogs from Creede.
Since the Weminuche is so close and because we could hear it whispering our names, our first outing here was on the Vallecito Creek Trail.  This seven-mile round trip was delightful.  Generally a fairly gradual climb, it follows the creek into the wilderness for more miles than we would care to hike, but every step is beautiful.  The creek, fed by many streams and drainages, is still running quite full for this time of year.  It certainly deserves a name conveying something larger than a creek.  But there it is.  It’s a popular trail and even on a Thursday there was lots of traffic…not as bad as the Alpine Loop thankfully, but we didn’t have it to ourselves either.  The upper parts of the trail show the damage from the 2002 Missionary Ridge Fire that burned 137,760 acres, displaced 5,340 people and destroyed 133 homes…a nasty bit of work.
On Vallecito Creek Trail

Vallecito Creek
Hi, sweetheart!

Vallecito Creek