Harvest, Schmarvest

A few posts back, I was reveling in the large crop on my orange tree.  Now, I revel not.  The oranges were worthless: lots of seeds, lots of pulp, hardly any juice.  On the plus side, they were easy to peel - a plus that rapidly became meaningless as, one after another, we tossed the peeled fruit into the trash.

What happened?  T'was not the tree.  T'was not the bee.  T'was me.  I selected the wrong kind of citrus for my private one-tree orchard.  Algerian Clementines are self-fruitful but produce better crops if pollinated.  But, if pollinated by anything other than another Algerian Clementine, you get what we got: yuck fruit.

The tree blossomed profusely, smelled delightful, attracted lots of bees.  Ah, but who knew where those bees had been?  What were the odds that every one of those little fellas showered the night before, removing all traces of pollen from their prior day's work, that they then spent the night in isolated clean rooms away from their unwashed hive-mates, that their first stop of the day was an Algerian Clementine across town, after which they made a non-stop beeline to my place?  Any bettors?

Bees don't care where they get their nectar.  Got flowers?  I'll be right over.  Bunch of sluts.  Kinda reminds me of myself in my younger days.

Yesterday, the orange tree became history.  It's gone: cut up, rooted out and trash piled.  The pretty, aromatic blossoms alone didn't justify the special care and feeding I was providing.  In its place is a pygmy date palm.

Pygmy Date Palm

It grows slowly to about 9' tall and wide.

Will it actually produce dates?  

Don't know.  No pygmies around here to eat 'em, anyway.

Wow!

A pleasant memory of growing up in rural northern Minnesota, was seeing the northern lights. They appeared rarely but when they did, we'd all rush outside to view the constantly-changing, colorful display.  We'd stand there, awestruck, and exclaim, "Wow!"

Last night  at dinner this question came up: are there southern lights, as well?  Indeed there are. They're called aurora australis; northern lights are aurora borealis.

I thought the northern lights would be excellent subject matter for a painting and started working on it last spring, thinking I'd finish it before we left LHC for the summer.  No way.  After 3 abortive attempts, I set it aside.  Six weeks ago, I started over and screwed it up a couple more times before finally creating something I liked enough to hang on the wall.

Wow!

Acrylic on Canvas 24" x 30"

Mike Delaney

December, 2014

Guineas

Trish started it.  She said she was reading a book I might enjoy, said the setting was New Guinea.  I'm no geography expert but vaguely recalled there being several colonies or countries called New Guinea.  I asked Trish, "What's with all the New Guineas?  And, why isn't there an Old Guinea?"  There had to be an old one, couldn't be new ones if there wasn't an old one.

I brought up the Guinea subject later, at Gary and Nancy's, with Terry and Lisa in attendance.  I said there was a Guinea in South America and that Devil's Island was part of it.  Devil's Island was an infamous French penal colony, the setting for the movie Papillon.  Gary agreed but ours was the minority opinion.  We were partially right: Devil's Island is indeed off the coast of South America but it was part of French Guiana, not Guinea.  It's now the independent country of Guyana.

French Guinea was the first colony to bear the Guinea name.  Located in West Africa, it is now the independent country of Guinea.  Other areas of Africa were claimed by other European countries and named Guinea, some with the 'New' prefix, some not: Dutch Guinea, German Guinea, Spanish New Guinea, Portuguese New Guinea, etc.  The British minted gold coins (from 1663 to 1814) that were called guineas because the gold came from the Guinea area of West Africa.

The setting in Trish's book is the island of New Guinea, which used to be called British New Guinea; it's located north of Australia.  One online source said there 13 different places named Guinea at one time or another.  Currently, there are four: Guinea, Guinea-Bissau, Equatorial Guinea and Papua New Guinea. Good grief!

My first ever exposure to the term 'guinea' was guinea hens.  My uncle had a few, very ugly, very noisy.  He also had geese, nasty buggers that chased me when I was a little kid.

PS: Papillon starred Dustin Hoffman and Steve McQueen and they did a great job of acting.

Got Oranges?

December, 2011.

The 1-year old tree yielded 9 oranges.

It's an Algerian Clementine Mandarin Orange.

December, 2014.

Don't know how many; 80 maybe?

We got zippity doo dah in 2012 and 2013, lack of pollination, I think.
The harvest starts this week.

In other plant news: I promised (blog post of 10/9/10) to provide a picture of the new plants in the lower terrace.  My faithful readers have been clamoring - in ever-increasing volume and frequency - for me to fulfill that promise.  The long wait is over!  Read on.

Before: lower terrace, October, 2010.  Ho-hum.

After: lower terrace, November, 2014.

Viva la difference!

Left to right: Blue Myrtle Cactus, Century Plant, Tubac Prickly Pear.

Valley of Fire II

Arches, balanced rocks, petroglyphs, slot canyons and magnificent colors abound here.  Here are a few of the best sights.

Atlatl Rock is a 10 minute walk from our campground.

This picture shows only a few of the petroglyphs there.

The atlatl, a launching stick for spears and precursor of the bow and arrow,

is pictured upper center above - the guy with his arms raised above his head.

It appears the guy is wearing a skirt, was probably a crossdresser.

Could be a woman but I don't think they did any hunting,

women's lib not being a popular concept at the time. 

The other images, period graffiti actually, are similar to others in

 various southwest locations: a hot dog on a stick, big horn sheep, a film strip,

 the Target store symbol, several snakes, 3-toed boogeymen and a dildo.

Above and below pix were taken on the 1.2 mile White Domes hike.

Slot canyons are spectacular but not a good place to be in a downpour.

Below, a wide range of colors in a relatively small area - amazing!

Fire Wave above and below, a 1.5 mile hike, round trip.

Poodle Rock

Valley of Fire

The visitor center blends in nicely.

Trish on the rocks.

A member of the Hole in the Wall Gang?

Valley of Fire, an hour’s drive NE of Las Vegas, is Nevada’s oldest and largest state park. And, it’s gorgeous!  We arrived here late Monday morning, just a few minutes behind our friends, David and Elaine; their 5W is parked across the road from us.  Spending holiday weekends at a campground is popular with RVers.  The best campgrounds are full to capacity, including this one.

We lucked out with the best site in the campground.  It has a huge, level concrete pad, electric and water hookups and is right beside the restroom/shower building.  It's a handicapped site, which we can use because Trish qualifies for permanent handicapped parking.

Above and below pix were taken just a couple blocks from our campground.

Side Effects

Three days ago I bent over to get a T-shirt from the dresser drawer when, suddenly, my back seized up.  This happens every few years for no obvious reason.  I'm just minding my own business, bend over to pick something up (in one case, bending over to wipe my butt) and zap-gotcha!  I'm frozen in place, afraid to move, afraid it will bite me again if I do.  I take a few deep breaths, wait a few moments, and then, very slowly and carefully, rise to a standing position by walking my hands up my legs to avoid using my back muscles.

Usually the pain eases off in a day or two and I'm back to normal in 4-5 days.  But this time it wasn't improving so I visited the doctor yesterday.  Diagnosis: inflamed/enlarged muscle is putting pressure on sciatic nerve.  Treatment: MethylPREDNISolone.  I've never used that drug but my favorite youngest sister, Marge, is using it to help her cope with a rare but nasty health issue.  She said that the possible side effects were off-putting, but that it was effective in treating her condition.

I don't normally read possible side effects warnings on prescribed meds but I did this time.  Let me tell you, they're enough to make brave men tremble - much braver men than I.  Here they are: bloody, black or tarry stools; facial flushing; feeling of whirling motion; hangnails; headache; changes in body fat; changes in menstrual periods; increased navel lint; chest pain; fainting; fever, chills or sore throat; increased hunger, thirst or urination; mental or mood changes; muscle pain; poor gas mileage; weakness or wasting; seizures; hairy boogers; severe nausea or vomiting; slow wound healing; rust or corrosion; stomach pain; sudden severe dizziness; swelling of feet or legs; bad karma; tendon, bone or joint pain; toe jam; thinning of the skin; unusual bruising or bleeding; delusions of adequacy; unusual skin sensations; unusual weight gain (lots of unusual here; where's Tom Jones when you need him?); vision changes or other eye problems; harelip.

Trish says it also tends to make people mean and short-tempered.  Medical professionals, who just love to give things the longest names possible, call it ScreamingAssholeSyndrome.

Aaron Sorkin

Most media viewers pay scant attention to the credits, I suspect.  The lead actor plus a couple more in supporting roles are the most visible and well known, while those behind the scenes - writers, producers, directors, etc - rarely gain fame.  It takes a real blockbuster or three to catapult a Hitchcock or a Spielberg or a Lucas into the spotlight.  Aaron Sorkin, the writer, was recently catapulted into our awareness via the current HBO TV series, The Newsroom.  A friend told us about it, we test drove it, and loved it. The second season just became available on DVD.

We're latecomers to this party.  Many folks who watch regular TV programming discovered Sorkin a few years ago via The West Wing, the popular, much-awarded series that ran 1999 - 2006.  I was aware of it's popularity but had never viewed an episode until recently.  Now, we're streaming it and enjoying it.  We backtracked and found another Sorkin series, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. We just finished it, and liked it also.

The 3 series mentioned above are similar in format: rapid-fire, witty dialog between behind-the-scenes people dealing with myriad deadlines and crises.  Before the presidential announcement, before the 'big-3' TV network anchorman goes on the air, it's a chaotic and ever-changing scenario for those doing the prep work.  There's plenty of humor in the dialog, much of it banter, inspiring frequent laughs from Trish and I.

Sorkin also did some fine screenplay writing, including A Few Good Men, The American President, and Moneyball.  I've seen them all and enjoyed them all.  If, you've missed out on Sorkin's work, give it a shot.  I wrote this because I wanted to share the fun and to provide a viewing hit list.  

Totally Nuts V

It's a big party and I'm the host.  It's at my home, a home that sports features from several  homes I've owned, yet is different in many ways.  There are several cars parked out front and about 40 people wandering around, most of whom I don't know.  Who are all these people?  Why are they here?  Who invited them?  I don't mind them being there, just curious.

We're sitting around a picnic table in front of the house, chatting, a few family members and I.  A flower delivery guy approaches the table and sets a large bouquet of flowers in front of me.  A few minutes later another flower guy appears and deposits a huge swag-style flower arrangement on the table.  The flowers are for me, sent by folks congratulating me for something, I know not what.

I mosey around to the back yard.  It has a gradual slope near the house, a steeper slope beyond that, finally leveling off at a thick growth of tall brush.  Just beyond the brush is a little-used public road. A half dozen cars are parked on the upper slope, including a black, sawed-off, little runt of a car, obviously foreign.  I'm talking to a couple guys when, suddenly, the little black car starts rolling down the hill.  It gathers momentum, keeps on rolling, crashes through brush and disappears.

It's nearly dark now and I'm thinking we have to go find that car; it may be on the road and somebody is going to come along and crash into it!  I run down the slope, expecting the others to join me but they don't.  They're afraid of something down there, won't budge.  I crash through the brush and come upon a small group of tents, large tents that have obviously been there awhile.  Homeless people probably live there but there's no one around.  No little black car either.  I retrace my steps and cut through the brush in a different direction, still looking for the car.

I wake up thinking that was really weird!  Although awake, I'm still concerned about that darn car being on the road and causing a terrible accident.  The hell with it, time for breakfast.

French Whorehouse

Would you want a valance like this on top of every window in your house or RV?

Not me.  It belongs in a French Whorehouse!

The fabric's okay but I hate the way the bottom's shaped.

I've never actually visited a French Whorehouse but I've been to Versailles Palace and this ugly piece of crap would fit right in there.  The style is Louis XV, I think, although that particular Louis isn't solely to blame.  A whole string of Kings, all named Louis, were involved in the design and furnishing of the Palace.  Apparently, if your name wasn't Louis, your chance of becoming king was nil.  Jacques?  Maurice?  Ralph?  No way.  Forget it.  Acquire a skill, get a job and pay your taxes to Louis XIII or XIV or XV so he can build his friggin castle. 

The valance was in our RV, along with several more, over 30' of butt ugly.  They're outta there now, to be replaced by new ones with tasteful fabric and straight lines; Trish will make them.  The new valances are just part of the project; we're also replacing the original shades with new ones.

Old shade on left, new on right

New one has 2 roller shades, black-out shade above, sun shade below.

This picture shows the night shade pulled down, sun shade rolled up.

The original day/night shades were pleated, mounted over and under, controlled by tension cords on the sides.  They were difficult to raise and lower, the day shades were ineffective as sunscreens and the night shades leaked.  They were better than nothing but just barely, and now they, too, are outta there.  Operating the new shades is effortless.

Installation was a bitch though, because the shades are quite heavy and the walls and ceilings are quite flimsy, like hardwood veneer on a hollow core door.  Had to jury rig L-brackets and spacers, and locate the studs, which are few and far between.

Why do they put these ugly valances in RVs in the first place?  Do lots of RV people actually think they're attractive?  Maybe so.  Trish and I strongly prefer a clean, sleek, spare look in our furnishings and window treatments; add colorful pillows and wall decor and we're good.  We strongly dislike busy, frilly, ornate, curvy stuff.  Folks that like Louis XV would sneer at our stuff, probably call it Scandinavian Whorehouse.

Lucky Lettuce

Once upon a time, long, long ago and far, far away, bandits disguised themselves as strange wild beasts and invaded a small village.  The villagers fled in panic and the bandits looted their homes and farms.  The villagers, determined to scare off the bandits, made fierce-looking costumes that resembled lions.  Some villagers donned the costumes and danced around wildly, while others banged on pots and pans, making as much noise as possible.  The bandits were indeed frightened by the costumes and all the commotion; they ran off and were never seen again.  The villagers lived happily ever after.

 The bandit attack occurred on the eve of the lunar new year, some 2000 years ago, in a small Chinese village.  From that day forward, lion dancing was thought to ward off evil spirits and bring good luck.  Nowadays, lion dances are popular at weddings, school graduations and similar events, as well as new years eve and other holidays.  Lion dancers are often acrobats and martial arts students, (kung fu in particular) and their dance movements reflect their skills.  Martial arts schools sometimes compete in the dances.

Unlike their carnivorous African cousins, Chinese lions are vegetarians and their favorite food is lucky lettuce.  Lions love lucky lettuce.  And who wouldn't?  Lucky lettuce is a bunch of green paper which contains a red envelope with money in it.  The money is the dancers' reward for their performance.  Google 'lion dance youtube' if you want to view a lion dance.

By now, you're surely asking yourself why the hell is the silly old fart rambling on about lion dances and lucky lettuce?  As well you should.  Because: a lion dance costume resides on the pot shelf in our great room.  It's a memento, left over from when I was a black belt kung fu master and internationally acclaimed lion dancer.  It's a colorful thing, a conversation piece, often drawing comments from visitors - which it did a few nights back, when Gary and Nancy were here.

PS:  Until now, few people knew about my kung fu/lion dancer background.  Very few.  Would you believe - nobody?   I lied up there, don't know kung fu from Fu Manchu and have never done a lion dance.  I can chicken dance, though.  The costume was a gift from Patty, my ex.  We both admired the colorful costumes when we were in China; she came across this one in Chinatown in San Francisco and nailed it.

The bandits-raiding-the-village story is one of several stories (myths) and theories about the dance's origin.

Stucco Guy

Stucco is the name of the game in these parts.  By 'these parts' I mean the hot, dry areas of the American Southwest.  Darned few homes in Phoenix, Tucson or here in LHC have non-stucco siding.  Why?  Because it's attractive, versatile, durable, fire-resistant and a good insulator.  My home has stucco siding and, except for the driveway, is surrounded by concrete block walls and terracing with a stucco finish that matches the house.

The longest and most visible stretch of my stucco wall had several unsightly cracks when I bought the place.  I tried filling the cracks with a couple different patching products but that didn't work.  The color wasn't right and the patching material came loose from the wall within a few months.  I tried calking the smaller cracks, which made them less visible but it wasn't a great color match either.

Lots of wall.  Lots of cracks.

Our mailbox, like the wall, is stucco-finished concrete block.  A few weeks ago, Ann, our sweet little old (87) neighbor lady backed her car into the mailbox.  Whoopee, more cracks!  I had Roger (the floor tile guy) take a look at the mailbox; he suggested I call Mark, the stucco guy.  I did.  And, I'm glad I did.  Mark knows his stuff, does great work at a very reasonable price; mailbox looks like new and the repair cost was minimal: $110 vs $750 to replace it in kind.  Ann paid for it.

Murphy's Law: the ugliest bit of damage will always be

 in the most prominent, visible location.

You're looking at it.

I asked Mark to take a look at the wall cracks, asked if he could do a fix that lasted awhile and matched the existing color.  Yep, sure enough he could.  He finished the job yesterday and it's a vast improvement.  If you live in LHC and need stucco repair work, Mark's the go-to guy.  He's unlicensed so doesn't advertise.  Putting private phone numbers in blogs is unwise; I have his number if you need it..  

All done and looking good!

Cheeseheads

My friend Terry grew up in Wisconsin - although some folks wouldn't agree with that statement.  Those folks would say he was raised in WI but didn't grow up there - or anywhere else, for that matter - and most likely never will.  Be that as it may, he's a WI native so he's a Green Bay Packer fan - a Cheesehead.

Recently, Terry came across a slightly damaged Cheesehead hat at a garage sale and, after reviewing his financial situation at length, decided to splurge and pay the 25 cents ask price.  He never had a Cheesehead hat and was delighted to finally acquire one.

We were over at his place a couple nights back so I asked him to trot out the hat.  I'd never seen one except on TV, was curious about how they were made and how they felt on your head.  Turns out they're not cheese at all.  Nope.  They're synthetic sponges.  I tried it on and quickly determined that a. it wasn't very comfortable (no lining), and b. my head got very warm very fast - a good thing on a crisp fall day, but on a warm day unbearable.

I'm a MN native so am honor bound to support the Vikings.  If any fellow Minnesotans see this picture, they'll disown me, thinking I've gone over to the dark side.  Don't tell 'em, okay?

Traditional Cheesehead hats are wedge-shaped, but there are several other cheesy styles as well.  And bow ties.  And bras.  All sorts of stuff.  Go to amazon.com and enter cheesehead.  You'll be amazed.  Or not.

Grout Girl

A couple posts back, (Holy Buckets, Batman!) I reported on the floor tile repairs in our home.  That project was just the preliminary event.  The main event, which started Monday and ended today, was Grout Girl vs Grime N Grit.  The judges are in full agreement on the winner: Grout Girl by a landslide.

Several years of once-over-lightly, greatly enhanced by a year of housekeeper abuse, resulted in absolutely filthy grout.  Housekeeper, who really should have known better, used a Shark floor cleaner that uses terrycloth pads.  It may work well on hardwood and linoleum floors but on tile it's the worst, nothing more than a dirt mover, transporting dirt from tile to grout - and leaving it there.  The original grout was tan.  After The Year of the Shark, it was totally black in the high traffic areas.

The larger tile on top: Before.

The smaller tile on bottom: After

A friend passed along the Grout Girl tip, and a good tip it was.  GG and her 2 helpers spent 3 days on their knees, doing their thing: scrubbing, staining and sealing.  The floor looks great, and we bought the right kind of floor scrubber to ensure it stays that way.  Professional steam cleaners do a good job of cleaning tile and grout, too.  But, when they're done, the grout needs to be sealed.  I've spent 100s of hours on my knees, sealing grout.  Never again!

Grout Girl rocks!    

Global Warming Q and A

Q: What do we really know about global warming?
A: Precious little.  We do know that:
     1.  A 400-year mini ice age ended about 1850 and there's been a gradual warming trend since then.
     2.  Atmospheric carbon dioxide (CO2) levels have steadily increased since record keeping started in 1958.
     3.  Polar and glacial ice volume is decreasing in some areas.

Q: Is human activity causing the warming trend?
A. Did human activity cause the mini ice age?  I very much doubt it.  By definition, when an ice age ends, be it mini or maxi, the atmosphere gets warmer.  Human activity may be a contributing factor but there's no way to measure how much, if any.

Q: Has human activity contributed to the increase in CO2 and other greenhouse gases?
A: Yes.  Fossil fuel usage and deforestation are the main culprits.

Q: Are greenhouse gases contributing to the warming trend?
A. Probably, but again, no way to measure it.  Poor air quality is potentially harmful in itself because nearly all living things need 'healthy' air to thrive.  If air quality gets too bad, the living things will start dying off - and one of those things will be us.

 Q: Will ocean levels rise due to melting ice, wiping out cities, ports and human habitat?
A:  Maybe.  Maybe not.  Ice volume isn't decreasing everywhere and is actually increasing in some areas.  Sea level increase projections are generated by computer modeling, which is based on few facts and lots of assumptions.  To date, the accuracy of those projections has been so far off it's laughable. Garbage in, garbage out.

Environmental research and analysis products are often suspect because the findings are interpreted and spin-doctored to support the agenda of the funding source.  Follow the money.  To get really credible information, neither the researchers nor the analysts should know who's paying for it. Further, the analysis group should be totally independent of the research group.

The book, State of Fear, by Michael Crichton, inspired this post, and some of the information provided here is borrowed from the book.  Mr C spent 3 years poring through environmental publications before he started the book and, although it's a novel, it's chock full of solid environmental information supported by reference footnotes; it also has an extensive bibliography.  I found it to be quite an eye opener, especially in regard to the alarmist hype that the media shovels into our laps on slow news days.

Pirate’s Den, Parker, AZ

Last spring we took our house guests, Ron and Holly, on a tour of the Parker Strip.  The Strip is a scenic, mountainous stretch of the Colorado River immediately south of Parker Dam.  It’s home to several RV campgrounds, both public and private, a few riverside taverns and a mixed bag of older and newer housing developments.  Most of the private businesses are old and shabby but the new Pirate’s Den RV Resort/Grill/Tavern – which we discovered on that excursion – is quite impressive and nicely done.  We went there for dinner last night with good friends Terry and Lisa to celebrate my 70^th.

This huge pirate stands at the entrance to the restaurant.

I was hugely disappointed.  First, the place was crawling with flies; I killed a dozen or so but they just kept on coming.  Second, they had a wine list but no brew list.  Bad sign: Terry and I both love microbrews and they didn’t have a single one.  Third, my filet mignon came well done instead of medium rare as ordered.  Normally, I don’t bitch and whine much when restaurant food or service is below par but at $30 a plate, I expect more than flies, swill and burnt offerings.  So, I pulled out the stops, bitched loud and long.  The waitress no doubt declared me Asshole Customer of the Month. 

 

I felt obligated to fondle the larger than life plastic pirate boobs.

It wasn’t all bad.  The rest of the gang had generous portions of barbecued ribs and declared them delicious.  The waitress was attentive, kept her cool, apologized for the shortcomings and offered me the choice of either replacing the steak with one done right or switching to the ribs.  I declined both, didn’t want to wait on another steak and I was definitely in a steak kinda mood so didn’t want ribs.  Instead, I told her to knock some $ off the bill, which she did.

Another shapely pirate, very unresponsive.

Upon leaving I told the waitress that the biggest disappointment was the lack of microbrews and that if they wanted to attract ‘cool people like us’ they darn well better get some.  In retrospect that was probably counterproductive cuz she was probably thinking the hell with getting microbrews in here; they’d just attract more SOBs like you!

‘Holy Buckets, Batman!’

Why the buckets? 

1.  The roof is leaking.
2. We’re practicing our kicks for the final.
3. It’s a slalom Nascar course for Artie.
4. We’re making a list.
5. None of the above.

Actually, they’re part of a floor tile repair project.  Whoever installed the tiles did a lousy job of gluing them down and now there are dozens of them that are loose on 1 or 2 sides.  When you walk on the loose tiles they move up and down, causing the grout to crack and crumble.  I re-grouted the worst tiles 3 years ago but, since the tiles were still loose, it was an exercise in futility. 

So, what to do?  Live with it?  No!  Replace the loose tile?  Not an option: there are 90 loose tiles in the traffic areas alone, I only have 11 unused tiles, and they quit making new ones long since.  Last spring, we discovered what we hope is a permanent solution and the buckets are part of it.  You drill holes in the grout around the edges of the tile, vacuum up the loose grout, squirt a special adhesive into the holes, place a bucket of water on it for 24 hours, and re-grout.  In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m having a contractor do the work.  No way would I consider taking on the project.

It’s a tedious, messy process but it darn sure beats having to replace the entire floor.  In that event, all furniture, wall décor, and everything else not permanently attached must be removed – including residents.  Move into a hotel for 2 weeks, return when the project is completed.  Think of all the steps involved: remove the baseboards, break up and chisel out all the old tile, grind down the old, hardened adhesive, install the new flooring, paint and install new baseboards, wipe down the dust accumulation on everything.  Yuk!

Old farts like myself (I turned 70 today) may recall where the title of this post originated - the Batman TV series of the mid 60s.  Robin used the Holy Buckets expression regularly.  

Tehachapi 2008

Our recent overnight near Tehachapi reminded me of our first overnight there in late December, 2008.  We were en route to LHC for the first time, had rented a home here for the month of January, 2009.  We had the A-frame pop-up trailer (Chalet) in tow.

We had spent the previous evening with Doug (Trish's brother) and Jan in Sacramento.  Doug recommended Orange Grove RV Park, just east of Bakersfield, for our next overnight stop.  He and Jan always overnight there en route to and from LHC because it's large, well managed, conveniently located, and has a nice bonus if you're there in winter: free oranges.  I ignored Doug's advice because I wanted to put more miles behind us: I had planned to overnight in Tehachapi and stayed with that plan.

Bad decision!  I failed to take the altitude into consideration and was unaware of the constant brisk winds.  It was below freezing when we arrived at sunset, quite a shock after the mild weather at lower elevations.  The RV park was up in the hills above town so it was even colder, and to top it off, there had recently been a heavy snowfall.

We pulled into the campground at dark.  It was very cold, very windy, downright nasty outside, wind chill probably below zero.  Lovely!  And us with only summer clothing!  The office was closed so we just pulled into a vacant site, hopped out of the truck and ran around like crazy people setting up the trailer and hooking up to shore power so we could get some heat in the trailer.

The plot sickens: The Chalet had no WC and I had been delaying a pit stop for some time, trying to arrive at our campground before dark.  I really had to go!  Number 2!  I abandoned the warmth of the trailer and dashed out into the frigid night in search of the restroom.  I found it - all locked up.  Sunnavabitch!  Now what?  Then, I remembered that I had had the foresight to anticipate this situation and had purchased a device called Luggable Loo.

Loo is nothing more than a toilet seat designed to fit atop a 5-gallon plastic pail.  Place a plastic bag in the pail, set Loo on top, drop 'em, take care of business.  Which I did - inside the trailer because I'm fond of my delicate parts, still find them useful occasionally and prefer they not get frozen off.  Business completed, Loo quickly exited stage right, air freshener entered stage left.

Kudos to Mr Loo and raspberries to Mr Dumbass for deciding to overnight in Tehachapi in late December!

Summer 2014 Summary

This may be of little interest to anyone besides me.  Well, Trish maybe.  Here's the thing: I love to quantify, always want to know how many, how big, how old, how hot/cold, and on and on.  I'm a born analyst and statistician, certainly no surprise to folks who follow my blog.  Here we go.

1.  Total miles towing: 4551, close to what we'd planned.

2. Total miles driven in pickup, including towing: 7271; more than planned because we had 2 long stays in Portland area parks.

3.  Number of days: 106

4.  Best private RV park: Olde Stone Village, McMinnville, OR.  Well designed, well managed, well maintained.

5.  Best public campground: Merrill on Eagle Lake, Lassen National Forest, CA.  Quiet and peaceful, lovely setting.

6.  Worst public campground: El Chorro Regional Park, San Luis Obispo County, CA.  See blog post Poorly.

7.  Lessons learned:
        A.  Engage truck parking brake prior to raising landing gear on the 5W.
        B.  Running RV furnace when not on shore power quickly drains the batteries.

8.  What went bad: water heater stopped working on shore power but still works on propane.  I don't want to mess with it, will take it to the shop.

9.  Best surprise: Grand Teton National Park scenery and campgrounds.  I recall that my first time there, many years ago, it seemed blah compared to next door neighbor Yellowstone.  This time though, I was impressed.  It has a whole bunch of pretty!

11.  States where I played Pickleball: Utah, Washington, Minnesota, Oregon and California.

12.  Number of pieces of quilting material Trish cut out: 758, half of which were also sewn and ironed; pieces will ultimately be made into 2 quilts.

PS:  Here's a picture that should have been included in my July 19th post, Champoeg SP, OR.  In that post, I wrote that Champoeg Village was wiped out in a flood in December, 1861.

The 1996 Flood high water mark is slightly above my knees in this picture.  I lived in the Portland suburb of Lake Oswego at the time so was eye witness to the extent of the flooding and the damage it caused - which was relatively minor.  The high water mark of the 1861 flood is about 12' higher than the 1996 mark.  That's hard to even imagine!  The entire Willamette Valley was one big lake.

Tehachapi, CA

This is one of the windiest places in the world, an excellent location for wind farms, and Tehachapi Pass is the site of the world’s largest.  I don't know how wind farm size is determined, whether it’s the amount of energy produced or the number of windmills.  Anyway, there are about 5000 windmills in the Pass and more under way.  The first windmills erected here 30 years ago were 45' high; .  Wind power technology has evolved constantly in the interim, each generation of windmills getting larger and more efficient.  The newest ones are on 265' towers, have 143' blades and have a sweep area of nearly 1.5 acres. 

We’re camped at a small private RV park a couple miles southeast of Tehachapi, beside the local airport at 4200’ elevation.  From this vantage point you get a much better idea of the wind farm’s tremendous scope than you do when driving over the Pass on highway 58 – which I’ve done several times, each time thinking wow, that’s a lot of windmills, must be 3-400 of ‘em.  I had no idea there were 5,000!   

Our sunset last night.  'Say goodnight, Dick.'

This is our last night on the road.  We’d planned to extend our summer adventure several more days, hiding out in a cool, high-altitude AZ location while the high LHC temps eased off a bit.  But, a couple days ago we decided we’d had enough road time and were ready for the roominess and convenience of home – and Papa Murphy’s and Netflix and daily mail delivery and full size bathrooms and, and, and.

Central Coast, CA

The Central Coast is the stretch between the urban sprawls of San Francisco and Los Angeles.  It’s an attractive area, with a scenic coastline and much smaller towns and cities.  Highway 1 runs along the coast and has gorgeous scenery, especially in the Big Sur area.  It’s a slow drive through that part, 75 miles of ups and downs and dozens of hairpin turns at 15-25 MPH.  Most RVers avoid that stretch, saw only one other rig the entire distance.

We visited Morro Bay and San Luis Obispo and both are appealing towns.  MB has great views and the beach/port thing going for it; SLO has a rich history and an upbeat downtown.

The San Luis Obispo Mission, above and below, looks pretty darn good considering is was built in 1772. 

The foundation would benefit from new facing but maybe they like it that way for effect.

A stream runs through downtown SLO and they’ve made the most if it with plantings and trails and bridges along its route.  It's a park really, a very long, skinny, curvy one.  Many restaurants with outdoor seating areas border the stream at street level.

Morro Rock is at the northern end of Morro Bay. 

The waters off to the right (north) of the Rock are popular with surfers.

Poorly

Poorly designed and poorly managed: that’s our current campground in a nutshell.  The designer didn’t know shit about RVs, most likely was never even in one and was too stupid to get input from someone more knowledgeable.  The result: sites that are too close together, too narrow, too slanted and oddly spaced.  The frosting on the cake is that some of the sites have the utility hookups on the wrong side.  RVs have water, electric and sewer hookups on the left (driver) side, but some of the back-in sites here have the utilities on the right side.  Unbelievable!

Our site is so narrow, it took precise placement to be able to extend the slideout and still be able to open the entry door on the opposite side.  As it was, I had to remove several tree branches that were blocking the door.  Extend the awning?  No way in hell!  The site is quite slanted front to rear, so much so that it’s necessary to block up the RV tires to level the rig.

Poorly managed it definitely is.  When we arrived 3 days ago, there was no one near the entrance to check us in or direct us to our site.  That’s not uncommon and I have no problem with it; having someone sitting in an entrance booth twiddling their thumbs most of the day would be a waste of time and money.  We had reservations so already knew which campsite was ours.

Typically though, the ranger-type or camp host drops by your campsite on arrival day to check you in, answer questions, etc.  We’ve been here 3 days now, saw a ranger drive around the loop once, haven’t seen the camp host drive around the loop at all, and neither of them have talked to us.  For all they know, we aren’t the people who reserved the site at all, just drifted in, found a vacant site and moved in.

In well-managed parks the camp hosts come around and check out the campsites soon after they’re vacated.  They pick up trash, clean out the firepit, and in some parks they even rake the ground smooth and sweep off the paved RV pad.  Not here.  The firepit in the space next to ours was full of trash when we arrived 3 days ago and it still is.

And here it is, the subject of this richly deserved criticism: El Chorro Regional Park, between Morro Bay and San Luis Obispo, CA.  If you’re ever in this neck of the woods, be sure to give it a miss.

Pebble Beach, CA

Our first stop today was the DIY dog wash facility.  This was a good one, coin operated like a car wash, towels and waterproof apron provided, even a hair dryer.  

While Trish did the dogs, I did Safeway and ACE.

Next on the schedule was one of the most scenic drives anywhere, 17 Mile Drive.  It’s a toll road, costs $10, which is reimbursed if you eat at one of designated restaurants along the route.  Above pix taken at one of the numerous parking/viewing areas.  All the following pix were taken on the drive.  

The Lone Cypress, 250 years old, is the official Pebble Beach symbol.

Note sign in upper right in picture below. 

Strolling along the row of shops en route to Pebble Beach Lodge, 

lovely bougainvillea and hanging flower baskets.

The Pebble Beach golf course has been famous forever it seems, has hosted the US Open 5 times, and is rated the best course in the USA by Golf Digest.  We had lunch at the Pebble Beach Lodge Restaurant, sitting on the patio directly in front of the 18^th hole.  My Sierra Nevada Pale Ale cost $10, had purchased a ½ case of the same stuff at Safeway earlier in the day for $14.  Location, location, location.

The 18th hole.

It’s a spendy course, of course.  Some would-be players might be teed off by the green fees: $495 + cart, certainly not my cup of tea.  But, they have a fantastic deal if you stay in an ocean view room at the Lodge for a mere $1030 per night (plus taxes and fees): you don’t have to pay extra for the cart!  Wow!  Who can turn down a bargain like that?   But wait, there’s more: they allow dogs – at only $70 per dog/night!  Bring your entire dog sled team and stay a week or two, what the hell. 

Turning 180 degrees from the 18th hole picture above, you see Pebble Beach Lodge, built in 1919.

Our lunch table was under the black umbrella on the far right.

Laguna Seca Recreation Area, CA

Once part of Fort Ord, Laguna Seca (dry lagoon) is now home to the Mazda Raceway, a campground, and a firing range.  It’s located a few miles inland from Monterey, in an area of steep hills.  The road to the campground and Raceway has a 16% grade, not VW van-friendly I’m thinking.

Priscilla, the converted bus, was parked across from us a couple days.

Some readers will get the connection of the bus name to a 1994 movie that was a hoot. 

The pix above and below were both taken from our campsite.  The Raceway is 1/2 mile north of us, picture taken at 10X zoom; one car on the track, one coming out of the pit area.

The Raceway is the real deal, a professional 2.2+ mile course with 11 turns and a steep stretch that has an 18% grade.  Grand Prix, CART, INDY car, Superbike, etc races are held here, plus numerous specialty events like the Aston Martin Festival later this month.  

Looking west towards the coast and Monterey you see upscale homes and a golf course.

Fort Ord proper, where all the buildings are located, is a few miles north of us.  The Fort was an army base from 1917 to 1994, when it was decommissioned. My brother, Gerry, did his basic training there in 1963.  Groundwater cleanup efforts started 25 years ago and have many years to go.  Several decades of careless use of motor pool solvents and lubricants, fire control chemicals, etc, left plenty of nasty stuff behind. We visited there yesterday and were briefed on the cleanup efforts.