T's Knees

Here she is!

Her leg and foot are secured to a motion machine that constantly, slowly, gently, bends her knee slightly.  The blue box and tube and its twin on the other side of the bed circulate ice water to to water bags wrapped around her knees.  They in turn are wrapped with Ace type bandages.

Close up of the motion machine.  It does one leg at a time for 4 hours, then is switched to the other leg.  This goes on 24/7 while she's in the hospital.  An identical machine will be used for another 10 days or so when she comes home - not 24/7 but as needed/recommended.  I'll pick up the machine Mon or Tues, cart it home and set it up so it's all ready to go when she arrives.

The gadget hanging on the end of the bed is a foot squeezer, one squeezer wrapped around each foot.  Not sure why this is needed, circulation perhaps.

More gadgets and monitors.

That thing she has in her mouth is a lung exerciser that she blows in periodically with enough pressure to keep the float indicator at a prescribed level.

The surgery was on the 27th and she plans to come home on the 31st, so 2 more nights.  She'll have therapy 3 times a week for 6 weeks, after which she should be getting around fairly well.

Our thanks to everyone who has sent hugs and love and prayers!

Pied

Here's a bit of trivia.  I used the word 'pied' in one of my online scrabble games today.  I've neither heard nor seen the word used anywhere other than The Pied Piper, and it occurred to me that I had no clue what it meant.

Do you know what it means?  Were you thinking that maybe on the way to serenade the gerbils or guinea pigs or whatever, Mr P stopped at Denny's for a large slice of apple pie?  Or, like me, have you never thought about it at all?

Remember seeing pictures of Mr P in the fairy tale books?  Remember he always wore a colorful court jester/Swiss Guard outfit?  That's the clue: pied means having 2 or more colors.  Otherwise, he would have been called The Monochromatic Piper.

Now, I can say that I know more today than I did yesterday.  Well.......... maybe not.  Lots of things that I know darn well I once knew I now know not.  There's a black hole somewhere in the memory banks, and I strongly suspect said hole is sucking stuff out the back door more rapidly than I'm stuffing stuff in the front door!  

Book Review

Sometimes I read a book that irritates me so much, I'm tempted to email the author and rip 'em a new one.  I should say start to read - why continue doing something you don't enjoy?  I've not yielded to the temptation of emailing authors, and won't.  It wouldn't accomplish anything.  A skunk is going to stink, no matter what, just can't help it.  Instead, I'll vent my irritation here

The book in question was a random quick-pick from the library's new fiction shelves.  The back cover has excerpts from reviews of a previous work by the same author, which I, in turn, excerpt here - and add my own review comments.

'The guy's a national treasure.'  Wall Street Journal
'The guy's an esoteric, lowlife asshole wallowing in a tank of schlock.'  Mike

'Easily the best crime novel I've read this year.'  Boston Globe
'Obviously the only crime novel you've read this year.'  Mike

'This is essential reading.'  Lee Child, author of Jack Reacher novels
'Come on, Lee, we both know it's essentially crap.  An excellent writer like yourself saying this guy is essential reading?  How much did they pay you?'  Mike

The author in question is George Pelecanos.  He has an impressive resume and has allegedly won several literary awards.  Either The Double, the book that inspired this rant, isn't up to par, or it's simply not to my taste - most likely the latter.  What's not to my taste?  This kind of stuff:

1.  An endless stream of detailed descriptions of neighborhoods, streets and hangouts that are totally meaningless to anyone who hasn't lived a long time in that particular city.

2.  Oh-so-hip ghetto/gangsta/druggie street-talk, using slang most folks have never heard.  And never wanted to.

3.  The overall arrogant, ain't-I-super-cool attitude that makes one wonder how many times he's broken his arms - whilst patting himself on the back.

And there you have it, my holidays book review.  Venting does one's heart good, got me from 'bah humbug' to 'ho-ho-ho.'  Merry Christmas!

Dyslexictionary additions: gabberflasted; lood gooking, farb, ponsticated, freakbast, dorncog, oxbot.

Good TV

Every so often I bad-mouth TV.  That's because a. I hate commercials, b. There's precious little I consider worth watching, c. I hate commercials, d. I don't like being slaved to a schedule, and e. I hate commercials.  That said, there are a few serials that Trish and I enjoy, and we enjoy them all the more because we either stream them or get them on DVD, thus eliminating the freakin' commercials.  Here's a few of the serials we currently like.

The Newsroom.  DVD.  Jeff Daniels stars as a Big Three news anchor.  We've only watched 2 episodes, thoroughly enjoyed them.  A segment of the pilot went viral on youtube awhile back; Jeff is in a panel discussion and fields the question, is America the greatest country in the world?

# 1 Ladies Detective Agency.  DVD.  Another recent discovery, it does a fine job of keeping true to the book, which was a best seller several years ago.

Hart of Dixie.  Stream.  Newly-minted female doctor moves from NYC to small southern town to take over late father's GP practice.  Silly but funny, lots of eye candy.

Lilyhammer.  Stream.  Steven van Zandt stars as a US mobster who joins the witness protection program and moves to Norway where he assembles his own mob of local characters and uses them as blunt instruments - but mostly in a good way.

Burn Notice.  Stream.  CIA spy is 'burned', reason unknown, wants back into the ranks.  He helps folks in trouble with gangs, mobs, etc using sneaky spy tricks.  MacGyer meets James Bond.

The Glades.  Stream.  Super sleuth cop leaves Chicago and moves to Florida, where he solves crimes but is often crosswise with his boss and others.  Good casting and writing.

That's enough for now.  There are occasional TV specials and mini-series that I'd enjoy but am not driven enough to seek them out in the schedules.  If you're aware of any, let me know please.

Bird's the Word!

Today's the day.  Bird's the word.

'Bird's the word' is a line from the song 'Surfin' Bird'.  On Thanksgiving, the day on which millions of birds are consumed, that song always comes to mind.  Released by The Trashmen in 1963, Surfin' Bird is a top contender for the Dumbest Song Ever Written Award.  Despite that, I love the darn thing, makes me grin every time I hear it.

 The song was inspired by an ad jingle for Thunderbird wine, the notorious, sickeningly sweet, rotgut swill popular with winos and dirt poor college students back in the day.  'What's the word? Thunderbird!  What's the price?  Thirty twice!'  And so on.

Another contender for the Dumbest Song award is 'Wooly Bully' by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs (1965).  They also did 'Li'l Red Riding Hood'.  I love those tunes, too.

What's the appeal of these nonsensical oldies?  I guess it's simply their sheer fun-ness.  That, coupled with fond memories of my college days when the songs first hit the charts.  Or, maybe it's just a character flaw.

BTW, The Trashmen stole the song, were sued for, and found guilty of, plagiarism.

I have much to be thankful for today and I hope you do also.  Happy Thanksgiving!

Good, Bad & Ugly

The Bad
A couple posts back I reported on Trish's arthroscopic knee surgery.  She had her follow up appointment with the surgeon this week to review findings, results and what comes next.  Findings: as the doc suspected, the cartilage is gone, it's bone on bone and there's damage from arthritis.  On both knees, not just the one.  Results: some decrease in pain level but not enough.  What comes next: full replacement surgery on both knees ASAP.

The Good
It's a freebie!  The health insurance deductible has been met so it's on the house if done this calendar year.  More importantly, after several years of living with ever-increasing levels of pain, she can finally look forward to full function, pain-free.  And, I get the fringe benefit of having my very own bionic woman to play with.

The Ugly
Invasive!  Two bones in each knee will be cut off just before the joint and replaced with metal.  Where the metal parts meet, there will be synthetic cartilage-replacement material to provide the necessary cushioning/lubricating - a Frisbee-shaped spacer coated with WD40 or Liquid Wrench I believe.

Due to the invasive nature, the healing period will take several months, maybe an entire year.  During that period, of course, Trish will need to severely limit her activities.  As the healing period winds down, Trish will be winding up: get the hell out of the way or get run over!  Don't say I didn't give you fair warning.

Is there a dog?

It's been 30+ years since I first heard the joke and I thought it was quite clever at the time.  Still do.  Given the vintage, it's likely that everyone has heard it, but just in case, here's the rest of it: What does the dyslexic agnostic ask?

Does the absence of political correctness (PC) in that joke, or my lack of sensitivity in finding it funny - and even worse, repeating it - offend you?  If so, read no further.  How about you and your PC going out for a nice long hike?  And, y'all have a great time together now, ya hear?

For those who are still with me, at the risk of being redundant, I'll clarify my PC position.  If you want to poke fun at me because I'm old, bald, Irish, have big feet, a small bladder or any one of dozens of other flaws and quirks, have at it!  I'm gonna poke it right back at you and have great fun doing it.  I love banter.  If you can't take a joke, can't laugh at yourself, can't help being a PC-Nazi, you have my deepest sympathy.    

So, where am I going with this, you ask?  Here it is: a couple days ago, out of the blue, came this thought, It would be fun to build a dyslexic dictionary.  The end product would be helpful to dyslexics and non-dyslexics alike, help them understand each other better, and the building process would be a kick in the shorts for those who enjoy wordplay.  Like moi.

I'll include new words in my posts as they occur to me and I encourage you readers to participate.  Place your dyslexic dictionary words in the comments section of my posts or email them to me.  I'll publish them in a subsequent post.  To add comments to a post, click on comment, select anonymous from the 'comment as' drop down menu, write your comment (and your first name and first initial of your last name if you wish) click on publish.

Here are some seasonal words and phrases to get the ball rolling: givthanksing, brancerry cause, ffusting, pweet sotatoes, perry chie, creen gean basserole, pacy's marade.

Back in the Saddle

Trish had arthroscopic surgery on her 'good' leg a week ago today.  The knee was swollen up to double size for 3 days and there was considerable pain.  She weaned herself off of the prescription pain meds early on, didn't like the space cadet side effects.

The swelling has gone down a lot, enough to hit the saddle on her stationary bike a couple days ago.  She's hell bent to get that puppy back in working order ASAP.  She's back to driving already, took Ranger to the assisting living center yesterday, then followed up with an evening training session with Artie, aka Little Shit.

Artie did just fine.  Not surprising since Trish has been working with him for several months now, and she's darn good at it, could be a pro trainer.  In fact, she does teach a therapy dog class for the local Pet Partners group.

Anyway, she's back in the saddle and hopeful that the arthro procedure will keep here there a few years.

Moo?

I never saw a purple cow.
I never hope to see one.

But I can tell you anyhow

I'd rather see than be one.
(Gelett Burgess, 1895)

A couple years ago I did a small acrylic painting of the purple cow.  I hung it on the wall and invited viewers to guess what it referenced.  Darn few viewers nailed it immediately, and only a few got it after a couple hints.  The poem is not as well known as I thought.

Everyone in my family liked Purple Cow.  It's the first poem I remember hearing as a child.  Somebody, one of my older brothers I suspect, modified it, and the new version got more play time around our house than the original.

I never saw a purple cow.
I never hope to see one.

But I'd rather see a purple cow

Than get hit over the head with a dull axe.

 
I thought Ogden Nash wrote Purple Cow, and told viewers of my painting as much.  Wrong!  He did do a parody, however:

I've never seen an abominable snowman,

I'm hoping not to see one,

I'm also hoping, if I do,

That it will be a wee one. 

Purple Cow

The painting has a couple things I like: the colors on the cow, the bumblebee on its nose and the cross-eyed/dismayed expression on its face as it observes the bee.  And lots of things I don't like: the tail appears to be frozen stiff, the body's too long - a bovine version of a stretch limo, the background isn't 'back' (got carried away with using a credit card as a painting tool), and the teats are misaligned.

It didn't take long.  A few days after I hung it, I found myself thinking, I gotta do another one.  A better one.  At first I was gonna do another purple cow, but no: been there, done that.  Such as it was.

Moo?

Acrylic on Canvas

11" x 14"

This time, I used an actual picture of a cow for guidance, rather than just slapping on paint and trying to make it cow-shaped.  Quite realistic, don't you think?  Especially the colors.

Santa Fe Fence

If you're a regular reader, you know that we spent the month of June in a condo in Santa Fe.  The weather was pleasant throughout our stay and we spent a lot of time on the backyard patio.  The patio and a portion of the backyard was enclosed with a cedar fence, which was likely the same vintage as the condo itself, 30 years give or take.

The fence has aged beautifully, has interesting grain patterns and faded areas.  

The last few days of our stay, I was admiring that fence a lot, thinking:

 that would make a great painting.

  Besides the fence, our Canyon Road art walk and the paintings of Barbara Meikle (My Idol, posted 6/28/13) helped get the creative juices flowing.  Ultimately, those juices morphed into a whole mess of acrylic paint that looks like this:

Santa Fe Fence

Acrylic on hardboard, 32'' x 42"

October, 2013

Sidewinder

In this case, Sidewinder is a premium 5th wheel pin box, rather than a snake, guided missile or old western scoundrel.  It's the device that makes it possible for us to get the Cougar in and out of our yard easily, and to pull it with a 'short bed' pickup.

Note that the pin arm is at a slight angle to the the mounting box and the RV itself.

That angle can be increased, up to 90 degrees if need be.  

It can be turned manually, using a length of 2x4 as a lever.  I didn't have to turn it manually all summer but always have to do so when I move the RV out of our yard.

The pin is the 2" cylindrical piece of steel that protrudes down from the pin box and locks into the 5th wheel hitch mounted in the pickup bed.  In conventional pin boxes, the pin is the swivel point when turning, serving the same function as the bumper-level steel ball used in towing boat trailers and such.  The Sidewinder pin connects to the hitch in the traditional manner but the similarity ends there: the pin is not the swivel point.

This is the conventional 5W hitch that is bolted to the pickup bed.

The pin fits into the round hole at the front of the slot and is held there by the jaws, which are in the closed position in this picture.

Located immediately behind the Sidewinder pin is a steel wedge that fits snugly into the slot on the hitch.  It 'freezes' the pin in place so it can't swivel.  Further back on the pin box, 22" behind the pin itself, is the new swivel point, which is called a turret.  Having the swivel point so far rearward means you can hook/unhook with the pickup up to a 90 degree angle to the RV.  Conventional pin boxes lack that flexibility: the pickup must be directly in line with the trailer; and you can't make 90 degree turns because the front corner of the RV will hit the rear corner of the pickup cab, damaging both.

Close up of the pin box, showing the pin at very front.   

The flat piece of steel right behind the pin is the wedge, which fits snugly into the slot on the 5W hitch, locking the pin in place so it can't swivel.  Several inches behind the wedge, you see the round collar of the turret, which is the new swivel point. 

My explanation may be confusing.  Use this link to see the setup in action:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5I6w04tAnm8

You can fast-forward through the hype at the beginning. 

Those are the pros; here are the cons.  First, cost: about $1400 to purchase and install the Sidewinder, and, although a new conventional pin box costs $500 or more, there was absolutely no market for the nearly new one that was removed from the Cougar.  We ended up tossing it into the dumpster.

The other downside is the pickup-to-pin box alignment.  Since conventional pin boxes don't have Sidewinder wedges, there's a bit of wiggle room: alignment doesn't have to be spot-on perfect when you back the pickup to connect pin to hitch.  Not so with the Sidewinder.  That wedge must fit snugly into its slot on the hitch, no wiggle room allowed.  

The Cougar has a mirror panel above the pin box, which is there so the driver can use the rear view mirror and RV mirror to line up the pin with the hitch as he backs into place.  But guess what: that RV mirror is totally worthless when the Sidewinder pin arm is angled one way or the other - which it virtually always is.  You can't see either the pin or the hitch with only the rear view mirror: they're too low.  So, aligning the pickup with the pin is a matter of dead reckoning, luck, and hopping in and out of the truck several times to check on alignment progress.  I'm getting better at the dead reckoning but it's a challenge.

Jump Pete, Jump!

Ever watch Mad Men, the TV series about advertising companies in New York in the 60s?  Trish and I watched the entire series via Netflix streaming, viewed the finale just a few days ago.  It was time it ended, was getting dark, heavy, depressing.  I thought the series was well done overall but was extremely disappointed by the last episode.

The lead-in was always the same, showing simple sketches in silhouette, extremely cool, less is more.  One sketch showed a guy in a suit falling, falling, falling (slow-mo), still falling, with a lofty skyscraper in the background.  No clue was ever given about the who, what, why, when or how, but I always assumed the fall presaged an actual event.  I was expecting that event to take place in the final episode and I was enthusiastically cheering for my personal favorite, the most despicable person in the series, to be The Jumper.

There were any number of despicable characters and one might say the world would be a better place if any of them, or all of them for that matter, had taken the plunge.  If you watched the series, you already know from the post title who I was backing.  Yep, it was Pete Campbell.  That weasel had the ethics and morals of an alley cat and was a sucker-upper extraordinaire.  Mr Smarmy in the flesh, complete with smarmy smile that made you want to slap the living shit out of him every time he appeared on screen.

I thought The Jumper's silhouette resembled Pete, too.  It definitely didn't resemble Roger or Don or one of the other lead characters.  My second choice for The Jumper was Lane, that obnoxious, pretentious prick from England (in real life, the son of actor Richard Harris no less, never would have guessed).  Gotta give it to Lane, though.  He did the honorable thing: hung himself.  His first attempt, carbon monoxide poisoning via car exhaust, a more gentile and painless method by far, failed because he couldn't get the car started.  Silly bugger just couldn't do anything right.

So, nobody jumped.  We were misled.  Mr Smarmy's still out there somewhere.  Now that I think about it, he didn't really need to jump: his coworkers would have gladly thrown him out the window.

My favorite character was Joan.  She was no saint either, but it was great fun to watch her perform her velvet-hammer role, batting those beautiful eyes while demurely telling someone to piss off.  BTW, she was all padded up for the role; she's nowhere near that busty or butty.

Ender's Game

The movie, Ender's Game, is scheduled to hit cinemas and Imax next month.  Harrison Ford and Ben Kingsley have lead roles; Gavin Hood (X Men) is the director and screenplay author.  It's a sci fi story based on the book of the same name by prolific author Orson Scott Card.  I stumbled onto Card a couple years ago while browsing the new fiction shelves at the local library.  One book and I was hooked, loved the writing, have read 6 now and looking forward to several more.

My favorite all-time sci fi author was Issac Asimov; the guy was a genius.  The genre itself isn't my favorite, but still I've read a lot of it, starting with H G Wells and Jules Verne way back when.  So, when I say Card ranks right up there with Asimov, it's high praise indeed.  Like Asimov, Card's main characters are human, and that appeals to me more than stories that involve only aliens.  Yes, Card uses aliens too, gotta have a few formidable antagonists in the mix.  Card delves deeply into emotions, motivations, loyalties and morality - and mixes in generous helpings of military and political strategy.  Thoughtful and thought-provoking stuff.

Star Wars (1977) was the most innovative and creative movie I've ever seen.  It blew me away.  The many groundbreaking special effects and techniques used in the Star Wars series, many of them computer-generated, are now ho-hum, passe', ancient history.  It'll be interesting to see if Ender's Game can break away from the pack of also-ran sci fi flicks of recent years.  I'm hoping it does.  I'm also hoping that it's the first of many Card movies.

If you like sci fi, I urge you to read the book before you see the movie.  The scope and depth of the writing can't be packed into 114 minutes of film no matter how clever the screenwriter.  If you do read it, let me know if you like Card's writing as much as I do.

Zota Unique

"Thanks to these new super-shoes, I can shovel the pavement while I walk!"

"I can flip pancakes with them!"

"Thanks to their amazing design, I just swam across the Atlantic in 2 days!"

"At last. Formal shoes for the well dressed clown."

The above excerpts are from actual reviews of the fantastic Zota Unique shoe.  Priced at only $119, a fraction of what you'd pay for Gucci or Prada, they are an incredible bargain!  Given their style, versatility and sex appeal (read the reviews) you'll want to get several pair - or at least 2: burgundy for casual wear and black for more formal occasions.

Be sure to check out the complete Zota Unique line of footwear.  It includes a really hot checkerboard design that's extremely popular with the masochistic crowd: they always find action when they wear these to tractor pulls and biker bars.

Don't forget to read all the reviews so you're up on all the wonderful features and uses of this fine product.  Here's the link:

http://www.walmart.com/ip/Mens-Zota-Unique-G803-10/13880079

Smoker

About 15 years ago my brother, Gerry, and his wife, Linda, were in OR for a visit.  It was August and the salmon were running in the Columbia River so I took Gerry fishing.  He caught an 18 pound salmon.  I caught squat.  As usual.  Gerry was justifiably proud, biggest fish he ever caught.

We had a fine salmon dinner that night but, of course, we only cooked a small portion of the fish.  I wanted G and L to take the rest home but they really couldn't, wouldn't be home for 4-5 days.  So I said to Gerry, 'Let's smoke it; then you can take it home, no problem.'  We drove to the nearest sporting goods store, bought an electric smoker and put it to immediate use.  The smoked salmon was delicious!

Last Sunday's local paper had an Albertson's grocery ad for fresh whole wild salmon on sale for $2.77/pound, about 1/3 the usual price.  I rushed down first thing Monday morning, bought 3 salmon, and had them cut up and soaking in brine within an hour of my return.  Brining takes 8 hours, and smoking takes another 8, both times dependent on thickness of the fish chunks.

The food is placed on the 4 removable racks and set inside the smoker box.  The little pan is filled with 2 cups of chips and inserted into the bottom of the smoker.  Plug it in and you're good to go.  Bags of chips come in hickory, mesquite, apple and alder but I can't tell the difference, taste-wise.

Smoked salmon is one of my favorite things - same for Trish - and it's expensive as hell, so it's well worth the 2-3 hours of effort it takes to smoke up a batch.  We're also fond of smoke-flavored chicken and game hens; the taste and delightful aroma is a real treat.  A grill just can't duplicate the smoky flavor and aroma of a real smoker, despite what the cookbooks say; the results are pathetic.

Bucephalus II

In general, I like the look and 'feel' of palms.  They smack of tropical breezes, ocean beaches, holidays both taken and fantasized, tiny umbrellas in colorful rum concoctions, shady oases in the desert, shapely females scantily clad, lightly oiled and sunny side up.  Advertising is to blame for this I reckon.

However, my palms were poorly chosen and poorly located, as were most of the plants I inherited when I bought the place.  Main problem was they blocked the view a bit more each year.  And, they attracted dwatted wabbits and were a real bitch to prune due to needle-like, poke-your-eyes-out frond tips and vicious, rip-your-skin-to-shreds thorny stems.  Now that I think about it, most if not all, outdoor palms are a pain in the ass.  They need regular pruning and they mess up your yard with sticky dates, huge leaves and stealthy, head-crushing coconuts.

Bucephalus, the Stallion Lane Stud
In the background are my favorite type of palms: other people's.  I don't know what it costs to have a 40' cherry picker rig, a dump truck and a cleanup crew over every year to remove the dead growth but I'm glad I'm not paying the bill.

We'd been keeping an eye out for a horse sculpture for some time, can't live on Stallion Lane without a stallion don't you know.  Although it has no dangly thingies I assure you it's a stud.  Dare I say, 'Just like its owner?'  No, best not.  T'would spoil my image.  You know, that image of a modest, tactful, soft-spoken, self effacing person I've so carefully cultivated, lo these many years.  Nyuk, nyuk.

Saguaro Cactus, the other metal sculpture Yoda mentioned.

The decorative rock around the bases of the sculptures is 'blurple' as in black and purple.  I didn't make that up, guy who sold the rock called it that.  How could one not love blurple?

The upper terrace with the new residents.

That's Grunt the warthog in upper right and Liza the lizard in middle right.

Bucephalus

Bucephalus is a:
A.  Small edible mushroom.
B.  Venereal disease.
C.  Horse.
D.  Heavy wool tunic.
E.  Snail.

Want a clue?  Sure, why not.  For a change of pace, I asked Yoda to write the clue (he didn't really die in that light saber fight after all).  Here you go:

"Sick of the Mediterranean Fan Palms I was!  Nasty sharp thorns on the stems they had, fronds the rabbits always eating they were, the view each year more blocking they were.  The hell out, them I ripped; sprinkler heads I removed.  To local Mexican yard-art shop I went, there two metal sculptures I bought.  One a horse is."

The correct answer is horse.  Bucephalus was the name of Alexander (you can call me Al) the Great's war horse.

Al and Bucephalus

One sunny day in 343 BC, Al and his dad, Philip II of Macedonia, were in Thessaly on a horse buying expedition.  They spotted a superb black stallion with a superbly high price: 16 talents.  A talent equaled roughly 60 pounds of gold, so the owner wanted nearly a half ton of gold for the beast.  Phil wasn't about to pay that kind of money for an unbroken/unproven horse so he instructed his attendants to do a test drive.  The attendants did their best, but were unable to ride the horse.  Finally, Phil said, 'That horse is worthless.  We're outta here.'

'No!  Wait!' shouted 13 year-old Al.  'Dad, I'll wager the entire 16 talents that I can ride that horse!'  Everybody thought that was pretty funny.  When the laughing subsided, Phil told Al to go ahead, thinking, this will teach the lad not to make foolish bets.  Turns out, Al's a horse whisperer-type, plus he'd noticed the horse was afraid of its own shadow.  Literally.  He calmed the horse, faced it into the sun, mounted up and rode it around a bit.

Prior to inheriting the throne from his assassinated father at age 20, Al was tutored by none other than Aristotle.  At age 22 he hopped on Bu and headed off to conquer the world - which he pretty much did over the next 8 years, never losing a single battle.  Al was unable to complete his empire building plans because he was laid low by a deadly fever, malaria or typhoid most likely, and died at age 33.  Some sources say that Bu lived to a similar age.

I was gonna write about the 2 metal sculptures I just bought but got sidetracked with the story of Al and Bu.  The sculpture details will be in the next post.  So, why did I go on and on about Bucephalus anyway?  Because that's the name I gave to the new horse sculpture, and I wanted readers to know that it is indeed a noble steed.

2013 Summer Recap

We left LHC on 5-21 and returned 8-29, several days earlier than planned.  We owe our early return to Trish's hurting leg, the Ram's transmission issue, and a last minute entry - RV batteries not holding a charge.  Trish has a doctor appointment next Friday.  The Ram hasn't acted up since we left Colorado, is going into the shop next week.   The RV batteries are at a local shop being tested, early indications pointing to pilot error rather than faulty batteries.

1.  We towed the RV 4550 miles.

2.  The Ram was driven 6398 miles.  The large difference between these 2 figures is due to our stay in the Santa Fe condo in June; the RV didn't move for 30 days.  Overall MPG was 10.7, better than expected.

3.  Cheapest gas was in New Mexico - as it was 4 years ago.

4.  We had several delightful stays at the homes of family and friends.  At, not in.  We sleep in the RV even if there are guest beds available.  We try to be noninvasive guests. Thank you Heidi and Gary, Al and Gin, Gerry and Linda, and especially Terry and Lisa (the 'especially' is because we plagued them for 2 whole weeks!).

5.  Of the various state and national parks/monuments we visited, Rocky Mt NP was the winner by a landslide.  I'm not saying it's my favorite park in the national system but it's right up there.  It's pretty impressive to be camped at 10,000' elevation and still have to crane your neck to view the fourteeners that surround you.  And then there's the wildlife: elk, mule deer, big horn sheep, all up close and personal.

6.  We love the Cougar 5th wheel!  It performed admirably rain or shine, a comfortable, cozy, well-sized rig that fills our needs.  Trish can quilt while I siesta; I can work on my computer in the wee hours when normal people (like Trish) are sleeping; and the dinette allows us to have dinner guests and 4-person card games.  The Cougar floor plan is quite popular.  Many RV makers use the same layout, tweaking it here and there to give buyers more choices.

Summer 2014 is already in the planning stages.  We'll spend most of our time in the NW quarter of the US, maybe venture into British Columbia and maybe hit a few favorite California spots along the way.

Dogs and Deeres

The monsoons finally let up enough for a campfire last night so we did the dogs and marshmallows.  1 dog for Trish, 2 for me, 3 dog night.  I didn't do a body count on the marshmallows.

As for the other dogs:

Ranger and Artie posing for the media at Natural Arch, El Malpais NM.

Ranger.

The old gentleman.

He and Artie get along great, have regular wrestling matches.

Above and below pix taken by our good friend Lisa in Buena Vista, CO.  She's a pro photographer and  uses her talent - on a volunteer basis - to help shelter dogs find homes.  She takes attractive pictures of the pooches for newspapers, bulletin boards, etc.

Artie.

The young rascal.

Don't let that angelic look fool you.

She likes to sit in it but can't plow worth a darn.

Picture taken in South Dakota at Trish's friend's farm.  I opted out of the farm tour: been there, done that, and besides it was time for my siesta.  This rig has full cab climate control with A/C, GPS, FM stereo and God knows what else.  Probably has a fridge and microwave, too.   Back in my day when men were men, there was no such thing as enclosed-cab tractors.  We sat on hot steel seats with maybe 5 golf-ball size 'ventilation' holes for comfort; spend several hours on that bugger and you have severe linoleum butt.  We ate dirt, baked in the sun, sweated buckets. 

Farmers nowadays are such pussies!

Walnut Canyon NM

Walnut Canyon National Monument is located 10 miles southeast of Flagstaff.  Yesterday we stopped in at the visitor’s center, watched the introductory film and toured the museum.  There are steep trails that wind 400’ down into the Canyon but we opted out on those.

 

Between 1125 and 1250, the Sinagua Indians built and lived in 100s of small cliff dwellings tucked under the rock shelves that line the canyon walls.  They farmed on the rim, growing corn, squash and beans.  They had to haul drinking water up the steep canyon slopes from Walnut Creek.  The Creek dried up for about 3 months each year so they stored water in clay pots to tide them over.

Taken from near the Visitor Center, cliff dwellings are in center of picture.

They moved out of the area in the late 1200s, probably because they had exhausted nearby supplies of wild game, and timber for cooking and heating.  It is assumed that they were later assimilated into the Hopi tribe.

At 10x zoom, a close up of the dwellings barely visible in the above picture.

Souvenir hunters discovered the dwellings in 1880 and for the next several decades, proceeded to decimate them, even using dynamite to improve access and provide light to the dark interiors.  The hunters didn’t leave much for the archaeologists to find so little is known about the Sinagua way of life.

Walnut Canyon, looking east.

We’ve been camped at Fort Tuthill Park near Flagstaff for 3 nights and will stay 2 more before heading back to the barn.  We bought firewood upon arrival, hoping to enjoy a couple nights of roasting our weenies, warming our buns and (Trish) toasting marshmallows stuffed with dark chocolate.  That hasn’t happened though, due to daily torrential rains.  This area has received roughly 5 times more precipitation than the historical average.  The weather is supposed to improve so maybe we can still roast and toast.

Artist's conception of Sinagua life in the summer.

Winters can be severe at 7000' elevation so they had fires inside the dwellings and swapped out their lightweight cotton summer loincloths for the heavier, warmer, wool ones.  Or the fur ones if it got really cold.  

I wonder: did they climb up to the rim in the frigid winters to conduct their personal business or just hang it over the side - bombs away?  I'm guessing it was the latter and that's why my dwelling would have been located just below the very top shelf.  Talk about your slippery slope!  "You want me to climb down through that mess and fetch a pot of water?  Up yours, Dances With Gophers!  Get it yourself!"

This scenario gives rise to another theory regarding their reason for moving out of the area.  It may have been due to the accumulation of waste rather than the depletion of resources.  After putting up with the waste for 100+ years they just couldn't take it anymore: they were crapped out. 

Grants and Movies

Grants, NM
Once known as the uranium capital of the world, Grants is a sleepy town of 10K souls about an hour east of Gallup.  Nowadays, Grants doesn't seem to have much going for it; tourism and a couple prisons seem to be the main industries.  We're leaving this AM after spending 2 nights.  The RAM has been playing nice since we left Buena Vista.  Maybe it just doesn't like altitudes above 8000'.

El Malpais NM sandstone bluffs overlook, with lava field in background.

The tops of the sandstone bluffs are worn smooth and have several shallow basins full of murky water.

This 6' x 4' basin is full of little polliwogs. 

Natural arch a few miles south of the sandstone bluffs.

El Malpais National Monument is the primary tourism draw, and the Visitor Center is right across the road from our campground.  We stopped there yesterday, prior to driving into the Monument area on highway 117.  El Malpais means 'badlands'.  It's a huge area of black lava flows, extremely rough, the result of several large eruptions over the last million years.  Mt Taylor, one of the volcanoes, lost an estimated 6000' of elevation when it blew its top (bet that scared the crap out of the elk).  Driving south on 117, you see beautiful sandstone bluffs on the left, a vast expanse of lava flows on the right.

Dueling cameras on the natural arch path.

Movies
When we're near a town and have electricity at our campsite, we often get a movie from the nearest Redbox.  Usually, I research potential movies on Flixster, which provides ratings by both critics and random viewers - a very helpful selection tool.  Both Redbox and Flixster are free apps that I've installed on my smart phone.

I neglected to check the rating on the movie I selected 2 nights back.  It had several very accomplished actors and I thought, 'Wow!  With all that talent, it has to be fantastic!'  And it was: fantastically disgusting, gross and mean-spirited, the worst movie I've ever seen.  Partially seen, I should say; 20 minutes was all we could stand.  The name was Movie 43.  Monumental talent monumentally wasted.

When we returned that movie we got another one: Quartet.  It's Dustin Hoffman's first directing attempt, starring Maggie Smith.  I did check the ratings this time.  They were favorable and we found the move quite enjoyable.

Blog Stats

Most bloggers already know this but non-bloggers probably not: there are all kinds of statistics available in the Google blog system.  These include:

1.  Total and per-post hits per day, week, month, year, all time.

2.  Sources of hits by referring website or URL.

3.  Audience stats that list the number of hits by country.

It's this last one, countries, that got me amazed, curious and suspicious.  By far, the most hits are from the USA.  Russia is in second place, followed by Canada, Germany, France, Sweden, and the UK.  Latvia, a newcomer to the stats, is in 8th place and coming on strong.

Russia?  Latvia?  WTF?  Latvia had 147 hits in the last few days, all on one 2-year old post about a remote campground in northern Quebec.  Said post had a total of 245 recent hits so not all are from Latvia.

I've researched and determined that my suspicions were justified.  Most, if not all, of the Eastern European hits are from surfing spammers using automated techniques, hoping you'll get curious and click on the referring URL.  If you do, you'll get a website selling porn or other nasty stuff.  Spammers are good at hiding their tracks: the hits that appear to be coming from Russia/Latvia could be coming from anywhere, including the USA.  Eastern Europeans are popular fall guys these days.

USA Pro Challenge

The USA Pro Challenge bicycle race is America's answer to the Tour De France.  It starts in Aspen/Snowmass and ends in Denver and has 7 stages.  The route, which includes 12,095' high Independence Pass, is the highest-elevation pro circuit race in the world.  Yesterday, we watched the racers zip through Buena Vista on stage 2.

A few posts back, I reported on the Leadville 100 MTB, a mountain bike race with 3,000 participants, most of whom were amateurs.  Other than high grueling terrain, the 2 races have little in common: 7 days vs 1, pros vs amateurs, entirely different equipment, highway vs mountain trails, live national TV coverage vs local newspapers, and, last but not least - $.  Big $ vs zero $.

This first group of 5 break-away riders were a good bit ahead of the main group,

perhaps because some riders crashed a ways back, slowing down those behind the crash and allowing those ahead of the crash to gain a substantial lead.  The yellow-green 'silo' on the left, and its counterpart across the street, are sprint markers: first rider across the line that runs between the 2 silos wins a cash prize put up by one of the sponsors.

The Challenge riders are backed by deep-pocket sponsors.  In the hour or so that we waited for the riders to appear, dozens of race-related vehicles passed by, including law enforcement in all shapes and sizes (but mostly motorcycles), race marshals and photo teams on motorcycles, Nissan 'official race vehicles', a loud-haler car blaring out the names of the current leaders and expected arrival time, EMT vehicles, an airplane, a helicopter.

The rest of the pack.

  Unlike the Leadville race, where the riders finished over a 6-hour period, the pros passed by in mere seconds, going about 50 MPH.

Closely following the riders, were the sponsor support cars, each with several spare bikes on top.  Everything - riders, bikes, cars, support crews - were decked out in team colors sporting sponsor logos.  Quite a spectacle!

PS to Dodge Service Sucks!: I forgot to mention that I emailed the Dodge dealerships in Grand Junction and Salida long before calling the Salida dealership and making an appointment.  I never received an email reply from either dealership.

Dodge Service Sucks!

Thursday 9 AM: Delivered RAM to Salida, CO Dodge service department to fix drive train slippage and squeaky brakes.  Told manager: we’re traveling, needed to get on our way ASAP, keep us posted.

Thursday 5 PM: No word on RAM status.

Friday 5 PM: No word on RAM status.

Monday 8:30 AM: Called service manager; he said tech that worked on it was on test drive and that he’d get back to me when the tech returned.

Monday 11:30 AM: Called again, manager on phone, left message.

Monday 3:30 PM: Called again, service line busy, hung up.

Monday 3:35 PM: Called Chrysler national customer service, told them Salida outfit wouldn’t return my calls.  They called Salida, got ‘em on line, service manager said they couldn’t duplicate problem and diagnostic computer was down.  Said they’d checked and cleaned brakes and they were fine, didn’t squeak.  I told them I’d pick up RAM at 9 AM Tuesday.

Tuesday 9 AM: Returned loaner and drove RAM back to Buena Vista.  The brakes squeaked.

Shit happens.  Computers go down.  I understand.  I do not understand and have zero tolerance for businesses that don’t keep their customers informed and don’t return customer phone calls on a timely basis.  Those businesses shouldn’t be in business and sooner or later they won’t be.  Their competitors – the ones that do things right – will get all the business.  I take great pleasure in giving for-shit businesses a boost, hurrying them along to their ultimate destination: down the toilet.  I do hope my call to the national organization was beneficial in that regard.

So, tomorrow we head on down the road in an iffy rig, but a different road than planned.  Our planned stops were the Colorado Nat’l Monument near Grand Junction; St George, UT; Henderson, NV -crossing the Rocky Mts from east to west.  Not a great route for a tow rig with drive train issues.  Instead, we’ll head straight south, pick up I-25 in NM and hang a right on I-40.  We’ll do a couple 3-4 day stops en route, arrive LHC about 9-1.

High Country Recreation

Mt Massive, near Leadville, CO, is the highest golf course in the USA at 9,640'.  Terry and I played it last Friday, perfect weather, quite enjoyable.  Trish and I had hoped to play Mt Massive when we were in Leadville in June, 2010, but it was too cold.  Now, I have bragging rights (such as they are) on having played the highest course in the USA, and also the lowest course in the entire world, Furnace Creek in Death Valley, 214' below sea level.

Furnace Creek is rated as one of the '50 Toughest Courses in the USA.'  At my skill level, 'tough' really doesn't mean anything: I shoot triple bogies on nearly every hole on every course, be they tough, semi-tough or easy as pie.  The one positive thing that can be said of my golf game is that it's consistent - consistently horseshit.  Still, I enjoy playing the game - for reasons that are becoming increasingly obscure.  Terry, on the other hand, is an excellent player.

Tennessee Pass Cafe in Leadville.

Very popular, very busy, very slow.

Whilst we were golfing, Trish and Lisa did the 2.5 hour scenic/historic train ride on the Leadville Colorado and Southern Railroad.  They met Terry and I for lunch at the cafe pictured above.

A typical summer morning scene in Buena Vista.

Rafting enthusiasts board old school buses towing trailers stacked with rafts.

Buena Vista and Leadville are major summer recreation meccas.  Rafting and kayaking on the Arkansas River are popular, as are biking, hiking and fishing.  The headwaters of the Arkansas are near Leadville.  Near downtown BV, there are several little waterfalls, man-made I think, where kayak acrobats do somersaults and other stunts in runty little craft no longer than a bathtub.  I've yet to figure out where they put their legs in those dinky things; they must fold 'em up like pretzels.

This footbridge spans the Arkansas River, a few blocks from downtown BV.

On the far side are a number of trails that attract hikers and mountain bikers.

Looking upriver from the footbridge.

Kayak stuntmen do their thing in those bits of white water. 

Tin Cup, CO

Yesterday, Terry and Lisa took us on a scenic drive over Cottonwood Pass to Tin Cup, a semi-ghost town.  The Pass is through the Collegiate Peaks of The Sawatch Mountain Range.  The Peaks, all 'fourteeners', are named Yale, Harvard, Columbia and Princeton.  My alma mater didn't make the cut.

We visited the Tin Cup cemetery, which is in a beautiful setting with graves scattered here and there in a couple acres of woods.  There are separate areas for Catholic, Protestant and Jewish. 

Tin Cup was one of the many mining boom towns that came and went in the late 1800s.  It once had a population of 1500.  Now, it has several seasonal residents and a handful of full timers.  Should you be in the market for a small home with lovely views at 10K+ elevation, there are plenty of vacant vintage log cabins to choose from.  Bring your own porta-potty, ice chest and generator. 

Our stop in Buena Vista to hang with T&L was open-ended; we were thinking 5 days or so, enough for a nice visit without overstaying our welcome.  Turns out we'll be overstaying our welcome big time: 14 days or more.  That's because the RAM has the sickies and is going into the shop today.  The transmission's gone rogue/spastic.  Most of the time it's fine, but sometimes, for no obvious reason, it goes bat shit crazy: engine roars and revs up, transmission won't downshift, no pattern, no rhyme, no reason.

I've checked RAM forums, Technical Service Bulletins, recalls, found squat, no history of sibling RAMs having this problem.  Hopefully, the problem will be isolated and corrected in short order.  Or: that little rogue/spastic sumbitch that's hiding in the drive train totally eludes the techs, they can't find anything wrong, don't do anything to fix it, we continue on our way, the tranny goes totally tits up on a remote mountain road, we kick both RAM and Cougar over the cliff, we stick out our thumbs, we hitchhike home.

On the bright side, the dealership is providing a loaner car so we won't be stranded or begging rides from T&L.

Gold Rush Days

Doing the final adjustments to the pack.

This burro, one of the largest in the race, is teamed up with one of the oldest 'miners'.

Burro is Spanish for donkey, aka jackass or simply - ass.

Haul Ass!

The more competitive racers sprint from the starting point.

Here's the tall burro and elderly gent pictured above, top.

This group is well behind the sprinters and going at a leisurely pace.

Buena Vista, CO Gold Rush Days include a Triple Crown burro race.  It simulates the race to stake the best gold claims back in the day.  Burros are loaded with 33 pounds of mining gear, the 'miner' grasps the burro's halter and races over a cross country course.  Last year's winning time was 1:33 on a 13.5 mile course - and that, my friends, is truly hauling ass!  This year, there were 2 courses: 11 miles and 18 miles.  Some racers are professionals who train their asses rigorously; their burros are highly trained, too, of course.  The races started 64 years ago and are held in several CO cities, Leadville and Fairplay being the other 2 Triple Crown events.

Immediately after the start of the burro race, there was a reenactment of a killing that took place in the Lariat Saloon in 1882.  That's Doc in the black suit; he squinted down at the victim, nudged the body with the toe of his boot, announced, "Yep.  He's a goner!"  Terry and I tried to incite the crowd to lynch the killer but the sheriff held his ground.

Next event: toilet seat races by age group, starting with age 6 and below.

That's TJ and his son Thomas on the left.  The seats have 3 small wheels and tip over easily. 

Thomas plunges across the finish line!

Proud winner Thomas, holding his trophy.

Thomas is a delightful young man, a bit serious for his age, very well mannered.

Here's the short course winner approaching the finish line with a time of about 1:35.

Trish and I were sitting in the shade eating ice cream cones when they went by.