Carlsbad Caverns - Still Worth It

I was thinking about it, and today marked my fourth visit to the Catlsbad Caverns in about twenty years. And it's been about fourteen years since my last visit. I was excited to see it again, though I knew more or less what I was going to see. But, memories fade. And you can never “cross the same stream twice” as the wise folk used to comment.

So down I went into the depths via the natural entrance. It's the only way to go, if you are capable of it. It’s steep, and winds for about a mile down to the big room.

Cave thoughts:

I like the slowly darkening effect of entering and leaving the twilight zone into the pitch black of the cave. It's a cool thing to experience.

The NPS did well with its low intensity lighting. The trail and features are dimly and subtly lit. It’s dark in there, like a good cave should be.

The NPS also did well to try and keep people quiet. I only heard a liw murmur and often nothing at all. Once in awhile you could hear the quiet “dwip” of a drop of water hitting. The cavern is still growing.

It’s incredibly beautiful. I forgot how magnifcent caves and caverns can be. As the trail wound through the big room, the views just kept getting better.

It's surprisingly balmy down in the depths. I was comfortable in a flannel shirt. Compared to the freezing temperatures gripping the US right now, it was a nice change of pace.

I really want to get off the tourist route and go explore. This cavern is huge, and there is much to see. I’m not a caver though I did a bit in my early twenties.

This is definitely not a difficult or wild walk. It’s your typical spoon fed, over protected, tourist walk through the place, but despite this, it’s still worth seeing. I get it. Thousands of people would destroy it if you let everyone walk wherever, but still…

I had to laugh. The first time I visited, I had a manual film camera and probably some kind of tripod trying to get my shots. Today, I walked about and hand held my phone to take these pictures. They are probably ten times better than my efforts back in the day.

I am really happy I came. Carlsbad Caverns: still great.

Up In The Hills

It's some sunny wintery morning in the mountains of south Central Spain. From a distance, the mountains are intriguing and beautiful. Up close, they are even more beguiling. The subtle colors between shade and sun are simply gorgeous. Pure mountain light.

One needs layers to hike this time of year. It's warm in the sun, and chilling in the shade. Don't move too fast, nor slow and you should be fine. Like all things, one needs balance. But I can't help myself. I'm pushing it. I haven't hiked hard in days, and I want to sprint up this trail. I love to see what I can do.

Fortunately, the light is too good. And I stop to catch a few scenes. Im walking through a dark forest covered in thick moss and lichen. This is definitely a microclimate on the north side of the slope. It's shaded and moist, and very different from the rest of the canyon. There has to be a few salamanders here, but I leave them alone.

On top of the ridge the landscape changes again. Now its open winding and stony. On the sunny side of the hills are wild flowers freshly bloomed. Wild flowers in January… what a delight!

After 8 miles, we're getting tired. The path isn't easy. It's working me. My legs and stomach are asking where home is. It's not far. Just down that steep ass mountain. No problem.

I know what awaits the weary walker in this country: Tapas, beer and another sunset on the mountain peaks.

Spain is wonderful.

Twelve Scenes of Sevilla

I'm glad I came to Sevilla, but I'm also glad I'm leaving. Nothing against it, Sevilla is a fine town, but cities can only hold me for so long before I need to get out into the wild again. I'm a bit of a snow leopard.

That said, here are twelve views of Seville, before I move on to more interesting landscapes.

  1. Goofball portrait in Triana. Triana is a great base of operations should you need one.

  2. Park Scene with nice trees.

  3. Blue Tile. Sevilla is the city of blue tiles. They are every where, and very beautiful.

  4. Pastille De Nata… by far the best pastry I've ever eaten.

  5. Park scene near the contemporary museum of art. Perhaps the best contemporary art museum I’ve seen. It is set in an old church. An interesting juxtaposition of old and new.

  6. Pink bloom.

  7. Plaza Archway.

  8. Flower intricate

  9. Green ham.

  10. The Bishop's chess piece. I like to think all the old cities have one giant chess piece in their church. Once a year they bring them together and play a game.

  11. Old school napkin like art. It made it into an art museum. Just saying…

  12. Yet another Chamber of Ham. How much ham do you expect me to eat?

Granada Granola

Spain is all right, you know?

I haven't written much about it yet, but I wanted to take a bite out of it first, before I made any comments.

I’m starting to get it. Im starting to like it Moor and Moor (get it?). Ive had tapas. I’ve had small beers. I’ve walked miles around Barcelona and now Granada. And tomorra? I go to Seville.

Today I want to talk a bit about Granada. Mostly I want to show you some views of Granada and it’s environs.

That said, I’ve a few comments.

Granada is closer to what I’m looking for in a vacation town than Barcelona is, but I’m still scratching the surface of this country. We’ll see what I find next week.

Granada offers access to the mountains - to the Sierra Nevada. Get out! Go! There are dozens of miles of trails to walk, hike, run, bike and generally find amazing views and quiet nature however you want to do it.

Me? I like to walk through olive groves. Olive trees are very charasmatic.

When you get back to town, Granada has what you want and need: Cold beer, hot food, and a place to stay.

For those of you wanting to delve a bit deeper into the food, Granada has that too. I ate some regional blue cheese that I deemed, “The cocaine of blue cheese.” I’ve never done coke, but from what I’ve read about it “a sudden rush of intense euphoria comes over you” and people who use it “get addicted to this rush” (roughly paraphrased). Eating this cheese is no different. I love this cheese. I (now) need this cheese.

Do I know the name of the cheese? No, I do not. My Spanish skills suck, and i was on my third glass of Riojas, so I missed it when the owner told me the name. I can tell you it’s from the Austurias region, which, has some pretty damn good food.

Beyond that, the history here will fill a few thousand years worth of books and tales.

Granada has the Alhambra palace, built by the Moors, and housed the royal folk back when Granada was the capital of Spain. It’s unbelievable how detailed the craftsmanship is in this Palace.

We took a tour of the joint with a couple hundred other people slowly jostling for position to get their photo in front of something beautiful with a background of several dozen other people doing the same thing from another angle. Humans are weird.

When I walked through, the question that kept coming to me was, “where does the king and queen go to the bathroom?” Generally speaking we’ve all have to process several times a day, but I didn't see any obvious side rooms for that purpose. Maybe they had to hold it whole court was in session… I digress.

Granada is all right, you know? Check it out, you got some time.

Panamanian Tree Thoughts

The trees pictured here are former jungle trees. Now they are domestic park trees with no competitors to steal their light. Some of them are huge, and towering. Others are squat and sprawling. Most host a variety of birds and insects at least for a short while as the days foraging goes on.

How intriguing!

I was most impressed by the green striped tree with the moderate beer belly trunk. It was fat, and as I walked around it, several 3” long bright green beetle-roach like insects scurried up the trunk.

I realized the insects used the green stripes of the trunk for camoflage. Science!

Then I wondered what I wasn’t seeing. It was 8 a.m. What would this place look and sound like at night? That's when all the action is.

Alas, perhaps another time.

These trees are awesome. They provide expansive areas of shade, something this country needs a lot of. They are very vibrant and green, beautiful to the eye. The branches make for compelling sketches and photographs, and all this was at one little park. I can't imagine how lush the jungle here is.. I kinda want to immerse myself in it.

I kept looking for fungi at the base of the trees. How do the mycilium highways work down here? Where are the slimemolds? I bet thereare outstanding slimemolds all over the place…

However, I'm finding Vikings don't exactly do well in the tropics. But, given the opportunity, Im not sure I could say no…

Thanks, trees. :D

Regrouping

Covid kinda kicked my ass. It stole 2 and a half weeks from me, which compared to some people makes me sound like a whiner. After all, I didn't die. I wasn’t trapped in an apartment, though I did isolate until I was testing negative. And so far, it seems like I’m healing.

I rarely get sick - it’s been years! But, this one got a hold of me and didn’t let go. The most annoying part of this episode was losing my hearing. I can hear, but its very muffled. It feels like Im wearing a helmet, and its been like this for 2 weeks. It’s very isolating. It's very frustrating and annoying.

But life goes on.

I’m a bit of a rover. This time of year means it’s time to close up the studio and move into the vansion.

I did just that a week ago. It wasn’t the usual joyous ritual. I slogged through it, still hampered by my muffled hearing, and slow healing.

I spent a week driving south and chasing autumn. I didn't see the sun for a week. Rain, gloom, cold. The weather matched my mood. The van started its EGR hiccup. I can fix it, but I’ve been on a time frame for two important appointments and couldn't stop to do it.

So life was kicking me around like a hackysack. It happens to everyone - Even high flying highly creative goofballs like me.

Thing is, I’ve been in a post covid funk. I didn't have my usual positive energy. I was waiting to be healthy, waiting to heal. And I wasn’t seeing fast progress. But, it doesn't work like that. It kind of got me down. I didn’t draw. I didn’t design. I didn’t build. I didnt play music. I caught no photos. I sat around waiting to heal. It's not healthy for me to sit around too much. I need to earn it.

But, as it happens, Monday offered a change. For one thing, the sun came out. It was a brilliant bright blue sky day. It was cold, but just seeing the sun brightened my mood. I saw an ENT specialist and he told me my hearing was improving, and signed off on my return to work paperwork. I had three days to goof off before returning to work, so I decided to spoil myself.

I slept in. I finally enjoyed some good coffee after losing my taste and smell. I went for a 20 mile bike ride. I went to a used book store and bought 6 books. I got takeout Chinese food. I purchased some good coffee and my favorite soap.

I did some little things that make me happy. I can feel the energy change in me. I’m starting to take flight. I’ve got ideas.

The bad times help you appreciate the good. Being unhealthy helps you appreciate good health. I’m headed in a better direction.

Here’s two photos.

Thanks for reading, and for listening. Better content coming soon.

Close Autumn Scenes

Here are some autumn scenes I caught from within 100 ft of my studio. It's amazing what a little light will do to make a scene pop. I'm more of a reactionary photographer - if the light is good, I rush and see what I can get. This whole photo shoot took no more than ten to fifteen minutes before I was back inside sipping coffee.

On Pizza and Some Italian Scenes

We had to leave our trip early. These things happen. Our last days in Italy went by fast. Add in a whirlwind of unexpected modern travel, and I’m now back home wondering how to write about it. But the good news, is the jet lag is keeping me awake at night, so I decided to wrap up this dispatch while whiling away the hours.

On Pizza

I will say, I ate an unhealthy amount of pizza in Italy. It was a fact finding mission, I was determined to try it all. We ate pizza once a day. Im surprised Im not dead, from all that deliciousness. It was worth it. I found my answers.

I had 4 truly great pizzas in Italy from 4 different regions. And these average normal pizzas you can get on a Tuesday night, were 98% better than all the rest of the pizza I’ve ever eaten. A lot of good food remembered is based on timing, experience, location, and who you were with. It's very subjective. And no doubt these pizzas fall in to that, but objectively, Italian pizza has a lot going for it.

Their ingredients are fresh. The toppings fresh. The flour special. They care. I had a simple pizza of cherry tomatoes and buffaleta from “The pizza whisperer” in Naples, and he came out after a bit to watch his clients eat. We were all satisfied. Another guy we went back to to compliment his pizza, saying, “it was the best pizza ever.” To which he barely gave us as glance, but smiled and said, “Yeah, I know.”

They have the portion size down perfectly. Everyone gets their own pizza. The have an ingenious accesory of olive oil picante which makes everything taste better. And finally, it’s what they do, and have been doing for a long time.

Visual Vignettes

Here are the rest of the vignettes of Italy.

Scenes and Notes From Tuscany: Trekking The Finer Sections of the Via Francigena

Of late we’ve been hiking across the landscape of Tuscany. Sounds romantic, no? Well, it is… until it isn’t. Don’t get me wrong, we still have the romance in our lives. In fact, though we aren’t married, we've opted to call this our first honeymoon. Why have just one? Why only have one if you are married? That’s foolish! Have as many goddamn honeymoons that you can! Life is short! Live!

I digress.. I do that here.

My true point of that rant is thus: When things get hard, that’s the time to take some photos. To which I offer the following:

We started hiking the Via Francigena on a beautiful early morning from the town of Altopascio. This marked a new style of trekking for me - hiking from town to town with all the niceties of well marked paths, mid day cafes with espresso and water, comfortable hotels, and homemade Italian food to boot. Whomever invented pistachio goo filled croissants deserves a Nobel Peace prize for deliciousness.

In short, we're hiking in complete comfort. It’s not so bad. Keep an open mind. Give it a chance some time.

Tuscany provides a beautiful landscape to hike through. There are rolling hills, vineyards full of well directed rows of vines. Olive groves abound. Meandering gravel roads wind throughout it all. There are cool shady forest sections, and many farms, villas, churches, hamlets, walled towns, and beautiful sights to see.

But, in spite of all this grandeur, the thing we didn't quite think about when we decided to do this trek, was the fact that Tuscany gets real damn hot about 11 am, and the sun will burn holes through any tender, pale northern flesh that my partner and I have an abundance of.

And so, we began to suffer.

Suffering is a part of hiking. They often go hand in hand, and sometimes clench each other like long separated lovers.

It was just after lunch on the first day. We faced a 2 hr section of trail along a canal with no shade. Temperatures were reaching ninety three degrees (f) and very little breeze. We trudged along as best we could, with our overweight packs digging in to our sore shoulders. Why were they overweight? Because we were packed for a full trip through Italy, not just trekking a section of Tuscany. To add to our hardship, our hips and legs began tightening up with each step from the long walk. The relentless sun was boring a hole in our heads and our spirits.

We eventually staggered in to Fucecchio. We walked on until we found a bit of shade formed by the shadows of the buildings. We stopped for a minute to let traffic pass, and I said, “Eat Pray Love, my Ass, Fuck that section.” (No offense to Elizabeth Gilbert, whose writing style I greatly admire). I pulled out my camera and snapped a self portrait, knowing full well, we looked and felt like hell passed over.

We found a grocery store, and cooled off in the refrigeration section. We bought cold drinks, and supplies, and sat down in the shade of the building to reset.

What do you do when you are on the verge of heat exhaustion, have heat rash, sore muscles and facing another three hours of hiking uphill in late afternoon heat to the town with your hotel? Ill tell you what you do, you get on the bus is what you do.

Being middle aged adventurers is great! Fuck that misery! Get on the bus, and get on with it. The only problem was, we weren't sure the busses were running on a Sunday with a festival going on. But, we decided to trust it. We walked to the bus stop and checked the schedule. It seemed there was a chance.

We had some time to kill, so we had a beer at the bar next door. We guzzled, hoped and waited, because the thought of having to hike another 3 hours was demoralizing.

The lord works in mysterious ways sometimes, and our hopes were answered by San Autista - Saint Bus Driver. You never know who will be your saint on any given day. And this guy, he deserves a medal for bringing us up that awful hill, and out of that glaring sun. It was the best 6 euro I've ever spent. We made it!

The Point of all This is This:

Remembering the hard times is just as interesting and important as reminiscing about the good times. You don't grow when life is easy. Growth only happens when you are suffering. Remember that! So don't fret if life kicks you around some. Take out your camera and take a few portraits. It'll help give you perspective when life shifts the other way and all is well and right with the world.

. . .

We now hike from 6 am to noon and avoid the worst of the heat. If the section of the trail runs past noon, we stop at the nearest town and get on the bus. Brilliant!

Ciao!

Strolling Through The Dolomites

What’s nice about this section of Italy is that you can choose between Italian, Deutsch, English, and the local language Ladin, when you communicate. I rolled through various “please” and “thank yous” depending on my mood and who was offering their service. As I am most prevalent in Spanish, I threw that into the mix as well, and was understood no matter which I opted for.

The landscape of the Dolomites is immense. I felt tiny walking along the mountain trails high up in the alpen meadows. The trails here are steep. On the first day, we opted to take the furnicular high up on the mountain and walk back down to town. Let me tell you it was hard on the legs. My calves, knees and quads were screaming like the brakes on an ‘89 Dodge Daytona.

The beer up here is superb. There is not much better than hiking all morning to a distant hutte that serves one style of excellent ice cold beer, fresh apple strudel and a million dollar view of a distant peak.

I still haven't seen what 4 or 5 pm look like. The European siesta is required after hiking all morning and eating some gelato, or sucking down a post trek beer.

I’d come back here. The money you spend here stays here. This section of Italy is wise. They make it easy to get here. Easy to enjoy the scenic beauty. And easy to leave with fantastic memories of strolling through the Dolomites - minus a healthy handful of Euros. But, who cares? Life is for living.

Arrivederci!

Labyrinth

I spent the day walking around the maze of streets and alleys of Venice. It’s easy enough to follow the crowd to the main city sites, but the allure of the empty narrow alley way was too much too resist. Hence, we got lost a lot.

However, there are far worse places to be lost than Venice. Around most corners and squares are small cafes offering drinks and food for your day of endless plodding around.

Deep in labyrinth, live the Venitians. The streets smell of clean laundry and sunshine. I love clotheslines. So aesthetically pleasing to me, so useful and green. They add character and charm to any alley.

I offer my three best photos of the day:

5/9/23 - Woodpecker Reflections

On a whim, I put a mirror in a crook of a tree near my fire pit. Where I placed it, is very subtle. It messes with your perspective. It bounces light weirdly. You end up looking through a solid tree, which just can't be. If you don’t know it’s there, you might think you are looking into another realm.

And now, it’s caught the eye of a piliated woodpecker.

Every morning, an hour after dawn, the wood pecker flies in to look into the mirror. The first time he found it, I watched him. He moved all around it. He tentatively tapped on it. He showed his mate. They both climbed around it. They spent an hour foraging and preening. And every morning since then, he’s come back to gaze into the looking glass. He spends about an hour a day there, eyeing himself, and warming up in the early sun.

Perhaps his name is Narcissus.

This morning, I finally got motivated to try and catch a photo of it. I pulled out my ancient Nikon 5100 and my old telephoto lens. By some miracle, one of the batteries still had 1/3 charge.

After turning it on and looking at all the buttons, I realized I completely forgot how to operate it.

I hit buttons and spun the dials til I was able to take a photograph of my foot.

Then, i snuck outside and tried to act casual - there's a definite style of walk to sneak up on wildlife… kind of a bored saunter… maybe I ambled, I don't know, but the bottom line is, you don't race up to a wild animal. You sidle up to it. You can't appear interested.

And I did good! I was able to brace my camera on a good maple tree about 65 ft away and catch the following images.

Quite pleased!

Ode to Biking

Sunday is my self imposed day off. I’ve really been keen for this one more than most, as I have a new bike to get to ride.

It’s a gravel bike. It’s silver. I’m pretty sure if I pedal it long enough, it will take me to interesting places.

This morning, I got it ready. I attached some water bottle holders, strapped on my snack bag, put on my biking clothes and set out!

It’s so exciting to see the world by bicycle. It allows you to explore your landscape and be fully interactive with it. Yet I can still cover some miles.

The speed of a bicycle is just right. For me, it’s about 11 m.p.h. Which incidently, is how fast the ship I work on also travels. Small wonder I like it.

The bike ride is a great metaphor for life. At times, you struggle up that hill into the wind. At times, you are coasting, zooming down the grade with no effort at all. But it’s all under your own power and will. You make it what you want it to be: just like life.

For me, I made it be 32 miles in a grand loop through the mist and fog of a gloomy island Sunday. The bike performed beautifully, and I’m smitten.

So begins a new chapter!

4/30/23 - Cold Spring

It was a nasty spring day. Continual rain, blustery winds. A chill that rests deep in one's bones. April shivering its way to May. One last snow storm expected.

I spent a good portion of the day inside. It being Sunday - my self imposed day of non-work, I took it easy. I made blueberry pancakes for brunch. I put together my new bike. I read. I stared at the next project for a bit, but did no work.

Finally, I decided to get out and go for a ramble. Rain and cold, be damned!

Heading out into the cold is always more fun when you know you have a warm dry place to return to. I think this feeling goes deep into our roots, Neanderthals wandered easier knowing the cave was warm and dry.

This time of the year in the forest is magical. The snow has flattened all undegrowth. Seasonal creeks, cricks and brooks run full from.l snow melt and rain It’s easy to see, its easy to navigate. There's plenty of distractions. One can take a good stroll this time of year.

I found an obvious deer path - emphasized by the flattened leaves juxtaposed to the ruffled leaves left by their hooves.

I found a giant chunk of chaga.

I harvested a massive snarl of yellow birch to light my fires.

When I returned to my cave I decided to rebuild my fallen rock walls surrounding my greenhouse mudroom. It’s not work if it's fun, right?

4/21/23 - Droplets & Dawn Musings

I woke up this morning just before dawn. I stepped out into the wintry cold air to leave a pee on the apple tree. Peeing outside is one of the many joys of homesteading. The sun was breaking through some fog, and whoa! It was getting good!

I ran in to grab my camera, rushing back out. I was wearing underwear, flipflops and a flannel shirt. It didnt matter. I was alive and in love with the view. When the light is right, one must react, or miss it.

I turned my camera on, and the low battery red light blinked indifferently at me, but no matter… “maybe one good image,” I thought.

The first thing that i noticed were the drips on the apple tree from the night’s rain, sleet, snow or whatever was falling.

If you can get close enough to a water droplet on the end of a branch, you can see the world flip upside down in the eye of the droplet.

I moved in slow. The branches mostly about head height. Its a careful dance to get an inch away from a droplet without disturbing it. It's easy to bump a branch without trying. I tried some images, then angled the lens downward to put the droplet against the sunrise and fog.

The cold made it hard. I noticed it. I felt my body beginning to quiver. It’s hard to make macro photos while shaking. But, nothing to do about it. I had to try.

Pure magic.

The thing about dawn is it is hard to predict when magic light will happen. One could wake up ten dawns in a row and be disappointed by the light only to be blown away on the eleventh.

I don’t deliberately try to get up at dawn for photographic dances. I go the Zen route… If I’m up and it’s intriguing, I react instantly, and take photos in the wintry embrace wearing only underpants and a smile.

On occasion, the art is good. More often, the art of trying is even better. And if all else fails, my coffee is excellent and hot.

4/17/23 - Winter Returns!

It was 75 degrees for the last 3 days. Warm balmy, beautiful and springing. I wore cutoff shorts and a tee shirt while I worked. Snow was melting exponentially.

It was abnormal. That’s true. But i wasn't complaining.

Yesterday, it changed. And last night we got hit with the April weather neuroticism.

I woke up to four inches of snow and more falling. It was COLD! I decided the only thing to do was to go on a coffee walk.

You know, make a good cup of coffee, dump a bit of Corolans in there and go for a walk! Best way to start your day.

Here's what I saw.

2/21/23 - Laundry Day

I love laundry day. In the van, it usually means a stop in town at a laundromat.

Laundromats have the best names. If I have time, I’ll do my reasearch to see which laundromat will win my business based on name alone. After all, it doesn’t really matter, almost all coin operated laundromats are the same.

“Let’s see there’s The Soap Opera, The Washboard, The Suds N Such, and the Wishy Washy.” All great choices! I opted for the Soap Opera.

It’s a known fact that your clothes get 10% cleaner by going to a funny named laundromat.

Once a laundromat has been chosen, I gather my unmentionables, sheets, towels, anything that needs it, and haul it on in. I don’t have a basket, I just shove everything into a pillow case/laundry bag a friend made me.

I find a likeable washer, shove the jumbled mass in there (lots of shoving on laundy day) and shut the door. I put in the quarters, I love quarters - such a useful coin! Add the soap, set it to cold (think green) and push start.

Twenty five minutes later, i collect my wet clean clothes shoving them all back into the pillow case and exit.

Then I drive to the park I’m staying at, usually i do laundry as close as possible to my landing spot.

I get my site, I take a look at the clothesline options and set it up. It’s very useful to have a ladder on the van for clothesline purposes.

Sun and wind dried clothes smell, feel, and look better than any dryer dried clothes. Not only that, It’s fast! When I dry my clothes outside in the desert, they are done in about 20 minutes!

I take em off as they dry. I “fold” them before shoving them back into my wardrobe shelf, and get on with my life.