Da Flikkers

Gay Pedophilia Sexual Deviancy

2012-01-16T06:56:00.000-08:00

Fiction? exaggeration? You decide.

Landing his beloved new Spitfire

after his exciting bombing and strafing runs, no other piloted aircraft in the sky, the solo 'Flying Ace' taxied into the grass hanger. The landing strip was short and required a last second flair, a controlled crash, to land the green Spitfire, so the positive and happy pilot began working to lengthen the grass strip. Being alone on the vacant field, no other air battles were in play.

The shadow presence of a young man standing overhead was a total surprise to the kneeling little boy. Possibly he was interested in the airfield created in the grass for the little metal airplane? The young man, a 'Special' neighbor as described by naive parents, had on one occasion previously lured the innocent young boy into a shed, unbuckled both of their pants and demonstrated the difference of men and boys.

Within seconds on that vacant lot, the young man's pants were unbuckled and the man's appendage was forced down the 4 year old boy's throat. Struggling to escape, but overpowered by the young man and after what seemed like an eternity, shock and oxygen deprivation took it's effect.

After laboriously regaining his breathing abilities, finding himself laying alone on the grass coughing and choking uncontrollably, the little 4 year old boy retreated home and climbed to the safety of his small loft bed.... in silence. Leaving lost forever, not only the once treasured little green Spitfire in it's little grass hanger, but his innocence. Replaced instead by a dark clouded total distrust, disregard for humanity.

Over the years that undesirable and Forced lesson in human 'Perversion', learned on that fateful day, occasionally returned in vivid detail. Returning to, at times adversely affect the growing boy's concepts of right and wrong, morality. Blurred forever were the at one time clear, dreams of becoming a pilot.

School, following soon after that incident, became an association with others, where risks of the older boys was always a concern. Fist swinging battles to stay free from their grasps were common. 'Deportment', recorded on a 'report card' became an issue and grades were less than spectacular. A life was changed on that one day, and not for the better.

Running away to avoid contact with any young men was improved upon. Diving through barbed wire fences, running at higher and higher speeds down railroad tracks, whether by day or night, and crawling through culverts became routine. Especially whenever alone and suspicious young men were entering into a self designated close proximity.

Miles long, night runs through fields while building endurance, was used as a way to forget envisioned bad experiences that brought on nightmares. The Darkness of deep night 'patrols' became a comforting friend. Climbing high into tall trees gave a means of escape... as well as a scenic view of the countryside :>) 'Never Again' became the mantra.

One has to even wonder how many young children have failed to survive from an exposure to this form of sexual 'Deviancy'? In many cases, No visible signs of trauma, only an adversely affected brain response, or permanent disability from the oxygen loss? Possibly death from asphyxiation? As escalation of the Deviancy becomes more routine, resulting in the victim's Strangulation? Deadly Beatings to prevent 'telling'? Burial to remove evidence?

This little boy was fortunate in that respect. How many 'special' neighbors now being given a 'green light' to their Perverted lifestyle, are among society today? Is the negative stigma being gradually removed through a media driven agenda, turning into full acceptance? Promoted as 'Normal'? Beginning in Kindergarten now, Taught in the schools as Normal?

Some time later, a public altercation over an unknown issue resulted in the 'Special' neighbor's being 'taken to ground' by another young man. The boy watched emotionless as the humiliation of defeat was administered to that 'Special' young man.

No hatred, just a hardened blank stare observing the violence being dispensed. Looking down at his belt buckle, the memory of that fateful day on the vacant lot returned. Today would that administered violence be considered a 'Hate Crime'? The young man soon disappeared, most likely into the military, as WWII was in the full heat of battle.

Over the ensuing years, the all too vivid memories of this undesired exposure to human 'Deviancy', were dealt with by the growing boy. The incident was over time, defensively, logically? dismissed as just another 'aspect of growing up'. Was that a natural form of survival.... and closure?

One incident in a child's life can affect their opinions for life, either positive or in this case violently Negative. Politics in the USA of today have a way of naively dismissing the now growing and loudly promoted, Sexual Deviancy as "Just another 'Chosen' Lifestyle"?

'Perversion' in any form away from the natural order of life, is immoral and not conducive to an enjoyable and happily functioning society, no matter what the followers of these Cults promote and nurture. NAMBLA

is but one of several groups that are organized for promotion of their sexually obsessed deviant, 'Traditional Family destroying' lifestyle. In effect, their own perversion addiction encourages the destruction of others, as well as their own personal relationships. All is done in the name of Their Own 'self' gratification.

Many other 'Deviancy' promoters are gaining prominence and profit in influencing the Political arena. Their now open display of hatred is noteworthy. Vicious and distasteful in every form, they attack all other forms of predominantly normal human decency, using arguments based on their own sexuality. A behavior Dysfunctional in nature's description.

Any candidate for public office is fair game, If he or she voices concerns about the degradation of society. Politicians themselves are often caught in these same acts they are presumed to be against. Lately they are forgiven and actually promoted because of their 'uniqueness'? Especially if they are of a certain 'free thinking' liberal based party. What has happened to our Nation? What agenda is being taught in public education to our future voters? Deviancy and Perversion is now viewed and worse yet presented in entertainment media as a valued 'Diversity'?

At least one value was gained from that child's encounter with the dark side of human tendencies. A lifelong interest in 'Self Defense'. That Omega ability to thwart an unwelcome intrusion into his/her personal and family life. Add to the formula a honed 'Awareness' of suspicious, society degrading activities, whether in the 'News' or on the neighborhood streets.

A strong 'Faith' has been the only saving grace for countless people worldwide. An acceptance, a Faith, an inner ability to deal with the negative incidents in their past, present and Future.

The future of the greatest nation the world has ever known, is at stake. Vote like Your Life depended on it...it does, in this "One Nation Under God", the United States of America.

This difficult and controversial post may or may not remain, depending on response. It may 'Take the Pulse' of the USA and determine whether it is Morally alive....or Comatose and in desperate need of 'Restructuring'..

Bosque Del Apache NM Dec 2011/12

2012-01-04T17:23:00.000-08:00

On a whim, wife and I drove the Jeep 80 miles down south to the Bosque Del Apache National wildlife Refuge on the afternoon of 31 December. It is the world famous wintering spot for countless migratory birds from northern polar regions, including from over the North Pole, Siberia.

The drive from ABQ is interesting even though it is freeway. North/South Interstate 25, elevated on the volcanic flow ridges above the farms of the Rio Grande Valley below, gives an impression of flying low with a view from horizon to horizon.

We were greeted with a rare view of snow covered lower mountains as we approached Socorro NM. Usually they are rocky and forbidding in an enchanting mysterious way. The entrance to the Reserve is at San Antonio NM, a crossroads town along the Santa Fe Railroad. Conrad HILTON got his start here. The reserve entrance is about 4 miles or so south of there. The main roads are muddy from the snow visible on this year's trip, to our great surprise.

Every trip to the 'Bosque' as we refer to it, is very different. During last winter's trip, this was the situation according to Big Lar's camera

This year was a slight exception. The big blue/gray Sandhill Cranes at 10,515, over ruled the other birds because of their large size. Ducks in general were reported to be 77,606 (who counts these things?).

'Light Geese' (snow Geese we call them) from Siberia, hit about 20,000. American Coots numbered 782. Eagles, of which we observed at least two, numbered 13. Canada Geese, prolific in past years only counted at 172, while countless numbers are strung out all along the entire Rio Grande valley. One lonesome Peregrine Falcon is in the count. It was rehabilitated after an injury and is apparently hanging around. We saw what we believe to be that Peregrine on a wire alongside the highway near the entrance as we left the reserve.

We decided that the 'controllers' as we understand them, adjusted conditions to force the birds further south into Mexico due to the weather conditions. Of course somewhat meager drought condition food supplies growing and a percentage purposely left 'knocked down' during the harvest season, is always a factor.

Reports (fairly obvious) are that the 'fairness and equality' recently mandated by 'new think' govt, have resulted over the past years in substandard, low productivity farming practices. In order to survive and consume adjudicated 'water rights', this has to be a legally 'working Farm'. The powers that be, reportedly awarded the last contracts to rank amateurs instead of the professional farmers of years past. That figures, intentionally dumbing down?...

This year the numerous lakes were primarily Frozen on their surface. Somewhat rare in Socorro where the temp is usually 10 degrees warmer than ABQ. There were several open stretches of water and many fields that we parked near, to watch the thousands of birds. Hawks are not our usual easy sightings.

This year was far different. Several of them (43 Hawks and Owls official count) were visible perched in the tall trees, waiting for a confused or weak quarry to make a mistake. One large 'Red Tail'? Hawk swooped down range 100 yards to grab something small in the tall grass. We never saw what, if anything, it grabbed before heavily lofting itself to another distant tree. Great adventure to watch.

We paused at 'Coyote Deck' observation structure on Farm loop road to see what might be visible. Sure enough, a lone Coyote lurking near a ditch, while watching the big Sandhill Cranes in the field. Guess he was paid by the Rangers to position himself near 'Coyote Deck'. :>)

Normally there are so many ducks flitting rapidly (some of the fastest birds) and paddle diving tails up for muck snacks, that you see them clustered all along the roads. This year they were not as visible in big numbers, possibly the frozen waterways drove them further south along the Rio Grande.

A large section of usually open Marsh loop roadway was closed for this season. The lack of one circuit, shortened our late trip to just about right. A set of lakes near the railroad tracks north of the entrance, with parking along the highway miles south of San Antonio, was a reward in countless, loudly 'purring' Sandhill Cranes doing a continous series of 'fly-ins' for their evening roost.

Numerous tourists with $10,000 digital cameras, with long telescopic lenses arranged on heavy tripods for spectacular sunset enhanced shots, lined the observation shore. We had only wife's little digital, to record a few choreographed family landings in silhouette, with the rosy red dusk sky in low mountain horizon back lighting.

Something peaceful and calming about watching them all return from the heavily populated fields of feeding, to bed down safely in families for the night. They cup their wings for a 'whooshing' descent, while lowering their 'gear' using various techniques. The big birds then begin 'flaring' just before touch down, gracefully into the inches deep lakes. Many choose the shoreline for the night, believing in safety in numbers? "Coyote can eat my neighbor, but he won't be hungry after that...at least for me"?

The drive toward home after dark, resulted in 'No' much anticipated hamburger at the 'Buckaroo Bar', across the highway from 'The Owl Bar' in San Antonio. Closed for New Years Eve? Socorro was similar this night. Belen NM north was next on the I-25, so McDonald's was chosen. Waay too much Mayonnaise on the Angus Deluxe.

Happy to return home with no incidents to mar the New Years Eve adventure. After crawling into bed watching a Bourne adventure TV movie and the news, I slept through what wife described as several 'Pops' at 12 midnight. So much for the H.N.Y. spirit of our youth.

Bedding down for the night, reminds me of watching the birds all coming in to roost after their day of foraging. Enjoy life in this United States of America, One Nation Under God.

2012 year of Conservatism

2012-01-01T16:50:00.000-08:00

Tearing up the credit cards to control overspending is the lesson taught in financial recovery classes. The USA will now have to attend the classes and follow the rules...or else. The results of Not following basic financial rules are always without fail, eventually devastating for the individual or family. A Nation of individuals is no different.

Only so many dollars are allotted to maintaining an average household. The paycheck is divided into portions according to priorities. Every normal working family understands this basic concept of survival. "If you don't have the money, you can't spend any".

The advent of the 'abnormal' 'Non'-working dis-functional family, started many years (generations?) back, in the now fully engulfed, dependency addicted USA. The funding to encourage 'dependency' began innocently enough by those emotional, deeply caring persons concerned about 'quality of life' ...for Everyone...working, contributing to society.... or NOT.

The Parasitic Perpetual Dependency Class was born to the 'Progressive' agenda similar to 'Rosemary's Baby' (old movie). Now it is fully grown and like cute little baby Lions and Tigers, it now is Demanding and obviously voting for 'Equality'. Which to them means, "What's yours is now mine".

By being totally subsidized, the advent of freedom from responsibility, leisure time without demands of a 'Real Job'. Rampant Immorality and Deviant behavior (it's Party time). No responsibility of conventional family or parenting (historic record numbers of illegitimacy leading to record numbers of career repeat offenders, drug addiction, crime and incarceration).

Perpetual 'counseling', housing, provisions, EBT shopping cards, and all forms of Welfare sustainability, generously afforded by the dwindling number of outnumbered taxpayers, is finally coming to an end. "When the grown adult kids eat the parents out of house and home"?

2012 is a possible detour from the Road to Destruction that the USA is now traveling on at faster and faster speeds (Thelma and Louise?). Not everyone can have a government or union job rapidly redistributing the savings of conservative predecessors. Obvious logic is that they can Not all pay each other on payday.

Now the undeniable aspect of placing the costs onto the future generation is all too real. What do you think will happen as this current mob of 'Political gamblers' place all of Your money on one hand, a 'turn of the card' as is often said?. They are betting against the house. Las vegas and it's shear ostentatious existence proves that is foolish logic.

For one reason or another, the still believable (by way too many) powerful media supported the notion that National Socialism at Any cost is good, and Conservatism is evil. The elections of 2008 proved that all former financial and logical sensibilities from years past were discarded in favor of 'Hope'? 2010 showed a faint glimmer of reversal, but the numbers of conservative inclined elect, were weak in comparison to the much more powerful 'Tax and Spend' agenda.

This is not fully a 'political party' issue, although the Liberal Left is deeply embedded into the democratic party. Blame is spread around among those of both parties desiring to retain their powerful positions in politics. They are only following the voters demands.

Demand 'Free Stuff' today and you get free stuff as you demand. Unsustainable. A rapidly escalating problem exists when the voters were Never taught as students, that the results of anything are relative to what is put into the project. Don't contribute, don't expect returns. "The Little Red Hen" taught that natural logic to our dwindling, at one time conservative, generation.

2011 was news worthy, in the fact that it exhibited a volume of insane financial and un-natural concepts purportedly to placate the voters. If you accept 'insanity' as a defense. "I was drunk" is another common defense. A return to common sense is the only way back. There comes a time when travelers must admit to a wrong turn, eat the error and backtrack to survivability. News reports periodically detail chains of errors of deadly circumstances, resulting from stubbornness of travelers.

We are travelers in time. Making, sometimes repeating in error, History, as we plod our way through the revolutions and positions of earth in it's perpetual cyclic voyage around our solar system. Please consider the future as you prepare yourselves to Vote for 'Yours and your Family's Future in this "One Nation Under God, The United States of America, the Greatest Nation the world has ever known.

May 2012 bring prosperity to all that contribute. We may possibly be outnumbered by now. 2012 will tell the outcome.

.

Right to Vote, South Carolina

2011-12-25T10:03:00.000-08:00

Posted comment by Law Abiding US Citizen Joe Kirkup, wildlife photographer

In reference to the current administration's US DOJ ruling vs South Carolina, that an Identity Card is Not Required? To Vote, especially for Liberal Left totalitarian Democrats?
Wash Times: commentary

JoeKirkup
I am not sure how much more blatant this staggering abuse of government power has to become before we say enough is enough. Think about it, to enjoy the most important and coveted privilege granted to any citizen of any democracy on this earth, most of us would struggle through any process, take any series of tests, provide any and all forms of ID and drive halfway across whatever state we are in, to cast our ballot.

The fact that, here in America as opposed to many places, we don't have to ride all day on an old bus, full of goats and chickens, to get to the polls. We don't have to be threatened and sometimes actually killed for the privilege to cast our vote. We don't have to beg for UN election officials to keep things honest.

There are no suicide bombers waiting in the shadows for all of us to gather in a public place. We don't have to even speak English to vote. We don't have to take a literacy test. We don't have to know a wit about the US Constitution that provides for this sparkling privilege. All they ask us to do is simply get a photo ID and present it at the polls, Period. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is apparently asking too much.

Even with the lax voting laws and the constant democrat encouragement to vote (illegally if necessary), minorities, especially blacks, still don't bother. On any given election, minority turnout is about 20%. All you have to do is put down that Big Mac, turn off BET for a few minutes, get on the democrat rented school bus and go to the polls but no, even at that it is just too much trouble.

I have a commercial drivers license which requires me to submit to drug testing at random. If I get a speeding ticket anywhere I risk my license. I have a Captain's license, again random drug tests. I had to produce all manner of ID to get it, up to and including birth certificate, SS card, drug test, finger prints plus a difficult exam. I have a concealed weapons permit. Yup, you guessed it, finger prints, drug test, birth certificate, exam etc... None of these things are as precious, or as important as my Right to Vote.

I think we can all feel it in the air. Time is running out. The nation is being entirely corrupted by government in all it's insidious forms starting with teachers unions, all the way to a president who is actually an illegal alien. Young people have no concept of self reliance at all. If there's a problem you cry to the government and do your best to act like some form of victim. I for one, am just plain sick and tired of it. If your lazy, stupid, uneducated (for free) butt doesn't want to vote then don't. Just stuff down another box of McNuggets and shut up.

Joe Kirkup
Calvin Ave
Lehigh Acres, FL

joe@joekirkup.com

THE PROMISE, 2011 Hoffmantown Church ABQ NM

2011-12-14T19:47:00.000-08:00

Hoffmantown Church in ABQ NM USA

has put on a pre Christmas stage performance of 'The Promise' (licensed and trademarked) for several years now. 2011 DVD's will be available. Last year was my first on stage role as a Pharisee in the beginning, and later in the program as a Shepard at the birth of Jesus (reason it is called 'The Promise').

We were in rehearsal for several weeks on various dates. The youngest person in the cast, was the baby Jesus, oldest performer was John at 80 years young. He was a Pharisee and Shepard along with myself and others. For some unexplained reason, John was assigned by production, to follow My lead? The blind leading the blind?

Our first few practices were in street clothes with the house lights bright, so no problem walking up and down the ramps leading to the stage. As we finally started to improve on our routine, the routine changed to accommodate time constraints. We retirees don't do well on random routine change. Finally the costumes were finished by the sewing ladies that worked through the summer on the lavishly impressive new garments. Our old 'hand me down' costumes were past legal drinking age.

As we ward-robed up, it became obvious that John had problems with dressing the same way for each performance. The helpful Shepard boys helped him get it right.... some of the times. Others helped him with his costume before each performance. Eventually the need to have him on stage in costume and on time, sort of became my responsibility, for some reason only God knows. :>)

John had real trouble once the house lights dimmed. He is 80 years old and his eyes no longer area as bright. John does not 'push'. He only 'pulls', and reluctantly at that. I found that by pushing him through the crowded stage performers and then pulling him when the edges of stairs and stage needed navigating, he followed my lead...sort of. In the darkness, I stepped down into the black abyss trusting a stair would be there, and then guided John clinging to the foam wall past the crevasse. We then proceeded to back stage sanctuary into the little 'Inn' on right stage at hiding times, awaiting other Pharisees

John can take dozens of tiny steps 'up' the ramps, but despises 'down' the ramps. Stairs were little better, done one at a time by sitting on the edge of the stage while clinging to the railing. This 'lights out' maneuver caused great confusion to the choir members using the same stairs. John was a US Army soldier in Korea of the 1950's, so my military reverence for him as a brother in arms, ruled over my somewhat reluctant sense of assistance to the needy.. I need to work on that.... before I am 80 :>)

The first entry has the party invitees (the little kids) entering the auditorium through the aisles and dancing onto stage with the singing choir in wedding attire (one of the rare times Baptists dance?). The Pharisees escorted each 'Bridal Party' to the wedding feast where Jesus was an honored guest during his precursor to popularity. We all then follow the dancing children (sometimes Angels) and proceeded down the aisles of the packed church to the choir's lively music on stage. The orchestra is in the pit playing the score flawlessly, to choir director Terry Adam's

wand waving. As the wedding was officiated by a Priest, with the goblet being stomped on by the groom, we all shouted Mozletoff.

We as Priests, were to then hurry from the crowded dancers (they had loyally practiced their complicated dance routines more hours than everyone) on stage and snack on pretzels while waiting in the halls for the succession of 'Miracles', as described in the Bible. During this time, Gregory (Balthazar) our great Orator

was describing the noteworthy aspects of the life of Jesus as he recalled its written history after meeting Jesus with gifts at his birth. After the wedding, the Priests left the stage as Balthazar (Gregory) told of the maturing Jesus and his life.

Each Miracle was then performed by Jesus, such as turning the water to wine at the wedding, healing the sick and lame, restoring life to the dead. All as Jesus is recorded to have performed during his life. We waited and watched from the hallway as the numerous 'props' were exiting the auditorium. Eyore the large Donkey and his little friend Donkeyote?, were endlessly exercised in the hallways by their owners. Sometimes their 'water broke' and the emergency maintenance crew was called to the scene of the flood. Soon our que. We noted the full auditorium scene of 'The Marketplace' beginning.

With John in tow, I re-entered up the back stairs to get at least two Pharisee's on stage, just as the two young spear bearing brothers comprising our 'Security', carried the tax collector's table into position on stage. John and I stood behind the tax official. The very fast and agile young 'Thief' then stole the tax purse from the table on que, whereupon the two uniformed 'security' brothers chased him, leaping from the stage with their spears and through the audience, accompanied by much shouting of the vendors.

The marketplace scene was chaotic and noisy as the people roamed among the audience hawking their wares, including many small live animals carried in arms of children. Jesus came on scene, riding on a live donkey (Eeyore)down the aisle to great expectations of leadership as their King. The crowds were ecstatic about his arrival as 'The Messiah'. We, now as four Priests, briefly stood silently behind the 50 or so dancers at the rejoicing.

We then exited briefly to wait for 'Temple' que and pull our Prayer Shawls over our ornate hats, re-entered 'The Temple' on the right stage. Jesus entered the Temple surrounded by the Disciples, and read the scrolls to describe his own 'coming' as the Messiah. The Pharisees were absolutely furious at him, declaring Himself as the Messiah and left the stage as the Temple was folded and carried off.

Eventually realizing Jesus was not their 'worldly' King as hoped, it finally turned to rejection. Priests left the stage for several minutes as Jesus was eventually betrayed by Judas and was then taken prisoner to stand trial.

As Pontius Pilot (excellently portrayed btw) and his attractive wife entered, we as the Pharisee's re-entered the stage, demanding that Jesus be brought to trial and judged for death by Crucifixion (only used on serious criminals and murderers). Pilot vocally and reluctantly signed 'the people's decree releasing murderer/thief Barabbas to the people, in place of sacrificial Jesus... All to Pilot's great disgust. He then washed his hands of the matter, throwing the towel to the floor. Caiaphas (played by Peter) loudly asked Pilot to change the wording of the decree but wisely backed off, as powerful Pilot (Caesar's managerial appointee) would not re-write ("It is written, as I have Written") the decree to satisfy the Politically Correct Pharisee's verbiage.

Jesus ('Chris' in real life :>) was roughly taken by the visibly cruel Roman soldiers for dragging through the streets (the auditorium aisles) The Via Dolorosa played by the orchestra and sung by the choir, accompanied the beleaguered Jesus, who was badly beaten, visible bloody and loudly nailed to the cross while moaning in pain. The scene was very bloody and realistic as he died in convulsions along with the thieves high on Calvary, above the disciples in mourning.

The men portraying the Roman Soldiers were excellent in their beating and degrading of Jesus.... and anyone else that dared to approach him. (A disciple on stage was actually injured and taken to the ER) It took real talent for these very strong, very fit young guys to carry the bodies, including thieves (the brothers from our 'security') off the crosses. They vividly and realistically demonstrated their trade in physical abuse. So much realism was involved, an emotional elderly woman in the audience of one performance, actually used her cane to take a swipe at the soldiers dragging Jesus down the aisle.

As the earthquake and lightning at death ensued, we as Pharisees, fled the stage. Our next scheduled role, was as Shepherds at the birth of Jesus Christ. Back to wardrobe for three Priests, and change into our raggy stock-men outfits, as the rest of the entombment and resurrection was portrayed on stage.
quick as a bunny I got John out of his Priest outfit and into his Sheppard garb. Only then did I change into my own Sheppard gear.

We went to the animal loading area for our critters. Last year I was assigned a large heavy sheep by this same stock raising family with their home schooled sons. Not desiring that 50 pound load this year (he is a fully grown large Ram now), I told them I wanted their youngish Peacock.... wrapped in diapers. Smart move, as the other Shepherds got the large Goats. We made sure John did not get an animal to complicate his performances.

Mary and Joseph entered with Mary riding on the Donkey. They found no place other than the stable and manger for the birth of Jesus. Fortunately as we Shepherds gathered round them, Mary and Joseph did not get any animal 'exhaust' on them, as happened last year when my sheep had a blowout as I slid him to the floor for relief. Baby Jesus was really great in every performance. No complaints, even as his actual mom was waiting hidden in the stable in case of problems.

Just previous to the entrance of Mary and Joseph, the Shepherds were waiting in the entrance hall for our grand entry, led by the exuberant Sheppard boys down the aisles to greet the birth of Jesus..... 'The Promise'...

Once on stage, we watched in amazement as the Three Kings (including Balthazar) followed the star to Christ's birth manger. Their newly minted costumes were regal and gilded 'to the nines' (term from antiquity). Their lavishly gilded entourage's extended for a great distance, winding through the auditorium. Two of my grand daughters and daughter in law, accompanied the Kings, as well as danced in scenes. This was a fun family affair throughout the entire month. After the Kings left the stage, we Shepherds mossied offstage in the dark to return our anxious critters to their owners loading facilities as each performance drew to a close.

Between performances (there were five in three days) we re-dressed as Pharisees a couple of times to greet the departing audience in the foyer. We got so many compliments. It was truly remarkable. Two hours of sitting in the dark and they all (thousands) still liked us? "THE PROMISE" is a Hit, and with good reason. The Promise gives HOPE in this "One Nation Under GOD". The United States of America..

MERRY CHRISTMAS to All. "Tis The Reason For The Season".

1% vs 99%... Occupiers?

2011-12-13T18:35:00.000-08:00

Guest post: by Robo of Cali.

CAPITALISM: "It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer or the baker that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to 'their own' interest".
Adam Smith, "Wealth of Nations" 1776.

Wow, is that profound or what? Does he mean the butcher, brewer and baker don't care about the "Little Guy", or the "Homeless" or the "Perpetual Victims of Poverty" or the highly over compensated "Bureaucrats" in government? What the hell are they doing making money for their own self interest? What a bunch of greedy capitalists.

Isn't it interesting that when the failed economic experiments of the Marxist/Socialist/Liberal/Progressive Democratic Party fail the party officials who promised their constituents FREE everything suddenly need to relax regulations and taxes to bring back the Capitalists who produce, to support the Democrats who simply re-produce. Of course once The Party promises Free everything again, the same voting block will continue to vote them in. Been that way since Karl Marx was supported by the capitalist money of Friedrich Engles, who also didn't work for his money but inherited it from his father's mills in France and England. Marx died in poverty, when the capitalists money to support him ran out. Sound familiar?

Government Motors has experienced fires during crash tests with the Chevy all electric Volt. GM is now offering to buy back the cars that they sold to any concerned buyers. Isn't that great? Build the cars with your tax money, buy the cars back with your tax money. No risk to GM, it's only your tax money, provided you are part of the growing minority that actually pays taxes.
Of course it's always the fault of George W, Cheney, Haliburton, Big Pharma, Global Warming, and capitalists everywhere in the world. That about sum it up?

Remember which party and which media giants endorsed and highly recommended, that the voters support tax increases on the wealthy who have a billion, million, $500,000, or $250,000...depending on which speech and teleprompter tells him. If anyone believes that nonsense, I have some great deals on real estate in China that are ready for development. Just ask me and have your check book or credit card handy.

There has never been a "Soak the Rich" scheme that has ever brought in the desired results. Never has, never will be. The earned money is with the hard working middle class and that's where the historically predictable 'Value Added' Tax Increases will end up, no matter what The Messiah or his followers say. They Lie.... a lot!

There are three ways to become "Rich" in this country.
#1- Be the end product of lucky sperm and egg. Then is it fair to tax J.K. Rowling's children? who by the way, went from being deep in single mom poverty, to now the children of the most successful author, worth an estimated billion (UK facing poverty as the wealthy fled, no longer Taxes off shore earned income). If so show me where the morality is?

Is it fair to tax out of existence, the children of Bill Gates, because he was successful? Is it fair to take the money from the children or heirs of Steve Jobs, Warren Buffett or any other children of successful parents? If so tell me why greed, envy, jealousy should drive the tax man to take the wealth from them then redistribute it at some leftist appointed bureaucrat's whim?

#2- The second way to gain wealth in this country is to EARN it. Hold on, I know that's a four letter word that no, good "Progressive" Democrat wants to hear. It's true though. If the so called 99%'ers are really serious about jobs they can start their own companies and sell something they have in abundance. Ignorance! Can't tell me there isn't a market for ignorance. Just look around you, ABC, NBC, CBS, LA LA Times, New York Times, AOHELL News, HuffPost (now AOHELL news), CNN, and the whole mainstream media organizations. They all buy and publish ignorance.

Who endorsed and told the voters to back Global Warming, The Bullet Train to nowhere in California (that has now exceeded three times it's estimate, while the consultants, lawyers and staff are earning obscene incomes from the taxpayers), government funding for perpetual stem cell 'research' in California? Now that the initial funding has run out, they are coming back for even more taxpayer money (the end results are zip, nada, nothing.... as expected from unbridled bureaucracy.

All of these parasites endlessly Vote for Obama, Jerry Brown, Maxine Waters, Barbara Boxer, Henry Waxman, Joe Biden, and all the other Democrats and socialist programs favored by the media. Can't tell me there isn't a market for ignorance. Democrats buy it and sell it every day.

There are plenty of jobs out there for the self anointed 99%'ers. Maybe not the six or seven figure salary they expected with a major in Affirmative Action-Ethnic-Trangender studies, but they can certainly make coffee.

#3- The third way to get "Rich" in this country is to get a (hallelujah) government job. Doesn't have to be high level like Barack Obama, who is only paid $400,000 plus perks, but files a tax return for $1,400,000. Where did the million come from? Must be the same stock broker Hillary Clinton used when Billionaire Bill was running things. The official answer from the White House is "the million comes from Barack's two ghost written books". I find that hard to believe. All of his supporters that can read, had already bought the books before or during the 2008 campaign. For the rest of his followers, as far as I know, they have not come out in coloring book form. Good thing they aren't Republicans or they would be 'doing time'.

Have told students for years, "Get a government well paying job (preferably union), collecting trash or running a city or anything at the city, county, state, or federal level and you'll never have to work again a day in your life". "Of course you'll have salary and benefits the private sector (the earners and creators of wealth) can only dream of". There are certain conditions, of course. Knowing someone influential is Always helpful.

Also being of the PC preferred race, gender, nationality or sexual orientation really helps. Knowledge of what expertise you are applying for, is Not really necessary nor desirable, as long as you meet the PC agenda (also loyally contribute a portion of your salary, and vote for 'the party'). For proof look at Washington D.C. and Sacramento California.

PAVLOV was able to condition his dogs, Obama is able to condition his Worshipers. Dogs and Worshipers, same mentality.

Have a good Holiday!

Show me where I'm wrong!

Robo of Cali.

Santa Claus Coat

2011-12-11T11:40:00.000-08:00

Rec'd as Email...

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid.

I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.

For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.

I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter.

His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."

The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.
Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were -- ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

May you always have LOVE to share,
HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...

And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!

ORWELL 1984 "Those who control the Past"---

2011-12-09T23:45:00.001-08:00

Posted by guest Robo:

How did we get to this point?

"Those who control the past, control the future". "Those who control the present' controls the past".
Big Brother's party slogan: "1984," by George Orwell.

"The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace Alarmed-and thus clamorous to be led to safety, by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary."
H.L. Mencken

Think these "Progressive" scary thoughts; Global Warming, DDT, MMA Vaccines, Acid rain, Alar, Green Energy (subsidized by taxpayers of course), Organic (fine if it's voluntary), Ethanol (Al Gore again), Silicone implants, Dietary fraud from oat bran-fructose, that are nothing. Keep the electorate frightened of the Boogy man and let them know that you, as a candidate for office, will save them from imaginary harm.

Some Democrats bolted the party and Obama's coat tails in order to get re-elected. Does that mean we are all racist now?
I'll check with the Rev. Al, Rev. Jesse, Rev. Wright, and the rest of the self appointed Rev's, Oprah, Michelle, Obama's affirmative action prof on African studies, the rappers, the gangsta's, Kenya West, NAACP, BET, and anyone else the media has proclaimed "Expert" in racial matters.

Sooooo Tom DeLay gets 3 years in prison for funneling Private donor's money to Other candidates. Money freely given, no one was ripped off, but rules is rules and he gets 3 years. Why didn't Charles Rangle get something more than a rebuke for ripping off 'The Taxpayers'? Why didn't he do time for not paying his fair share, as Joe Biden 'says' he wants Everyone Else to do? Why has Congresswoman Maxine Waters not been brought before the tribunal?

It's been known, for years, that Maxine (of South LA fame) funneled taxpayers money into her husband's bank to help the poor. Instead her husband treated the bank as his own piggy bank. LA LA Times (a major supporter of Maxine) has been writing about this for years. In the year end edition, of the LA LA Times, they had a wish list. One of the wishes for 2011 was that; "Maxine gets off, not that she deserves it, but we hope she gets off".

Of course Maxine has many things going for her, she's a self proclaimed socialist (Progressive), African (like Charles Rangle), a female, and a Democrat (like Rangle). Can't become more immune from the law than that. Poor Tom DeLay, born Honkey, male, Republican, bad Tom, bad!

2010 the taxpayers gave up $6 billion in tax credits to subsidize ethanol, a fuel that is nearly a third less efficient as gasoline, has contributed to the increase in the price of corn, and can potentially cause engine damage. You can send a thank you note to Al Gore for this. The same Al Gore that wants to shove "Global Warming" junk science down your throat. Make sure the thank you note is "Green" so as not to endanger trees, must support the post office, produce no carbon, or upset the whales.

LA LA Times is calling the new Cali governor the "governor of the people." Can't wait until May 1st to grab my hammer and sickle and march in the parade. Isn't that what the "Progressives" want and do?

How did we get to this point in our country's history?

Media? Mainstream Media? Not to marginalize in any way the shootings in Tucson, AZ. but I first read about it an hour after the shootings on AOHELL. They said the shooter was "probably" influenced by Sarah Palin and the Teabaggers. No evidence, nothing but the writers lock step "Progressive" mentality.

Turns out the same mentality was exercised by the; "New York Times, LA Times, and other "Progressive" publications and media. Don't these people think? Do they have the capacity to think? Even my small town local newspaper, "Progressive" of course; got into the act.

When it was proven they were wrong, that a mad man committing the shooting was closer in philosophy to the left, the media started backtracking and saying, "it could have happened", "can't we be civil to each other?"

The question I have to ask is where were these pontificating hypocrites when their Messiah was talking:
"I'm itching for a fight."
"They bring a knife...We bring a gun."
"Get in their faces!"
"I don't want to quell anger. I think people are right to be angry! I'm angry!"
"Hit back twice as hard."
"We talk to these folks...so I know who's ass to kick."
"Republican victory would mean 'Hand to Hand combat.'"
"It's time to fight for it.
"Punish your enemies" (referring to Americans who disagree with Democrats).
And Michelle's quote when she took a well needed vacation to Europe to demand the Olympic Committee give the games to Chicago, "We'll take no prisoners."
Must be a culture thing from the hood.

Where was the hypocritical Media calling for cooling of rhetoric then?

What about the "Progressives" Bashing Bush for 10 years? Where was the outrage and the high ground by the media? Where was the media when Cheney went into the hospital and on-line blogs hoping he wouldn't come out alive? Where were the sanctimonious hypocrites then?

If the "Progressive" media really must twist it's shorts in a knot and find blame someplace why not start with the "Progressive" ACLU who started shutting down the mental institutions in the 60s because the insane have rights too. If mental institutions were in existence, this insane killer would have been locked up.

continued in Nov post by ROBO of Cali.

Occupy Wall Street? Destroy Mainstreet?

2011-11-08T19:55:00.000-08:00

Without 'Wall Street', Steve Jobs would never have gotten his concepts to market. Think about that for a minute, take longer if you actually require it. Yes he also 'Made too much money' as the Liberal Left OWS'ers are dead set against. All of this media gushing mind scribble, as they use their Steve Job's envisioned, small pocket electronic cyber-devices to organize their attacks on the nations infrastucture.... and law abiding society.. Talk about Hypocrasy...

This following post by Robo of California.
He see's the govt/media sustained 'disfunction' outside his door.

Media Bias?

It should be no secret that the mainstream Media has a decidedly Socialist/Liberal/Progressive/Democrat Party bias (Polls show they consistently vote overwhelmingly Democrat).

The LA LA Times this week reported; "Oakland engulfed by mostly peaceful protest". Huh? That's like that old morbid joke; "Other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play"? These un-civilized monsters were burning, looting, and trashing the city. Isn't that what the left wing protestors do? Isn't that what they have always done?

How about the headline AOHELL Huffington report this weekend; "Car drives through occupy crowd". Turns out three "peaceful, intelligent, minding everyone else's business" protestors jumped on a moving car in an effort to gain attention. No one was seriously injured, there was no arrest, and it was the protestors fault. But that's not what the headline leads one to believe.

How about the sexual harassment charges brought against Republican candidate Cain? This is in the headline everyday by the biased media. The headlines get more ridiculous and show the level of education of the reporters. Bottom line, the harassment charges are brought by anonymous women, with charges that no one can explain or explain the pay off made by Cain.

Where was the media when John Edwards, the darling of the Democratic Party in 08 (before Hillary and Obama threw their hat in the ring), when charges were made by a cheap rag that Edwards had fathered a love child with his mistress. The silence was deafening from the media hypocrites.

Turns out the National Enquirer was correct with the story. Someday he may go to trial on charges he misused campaign funds to cover up the accusations and support his mistress. Tom DeLay is sitting in prison for much, much less, but then DeLay is a Republican.

Where was 'the justice' with Charles Rangle and his tax cheating? Where is the justice with Maxine Waters and her misuse of taxpayers money funneled to her husband's bank? Those stories are swept under the rug.

Have been arguing that the high-speed rail that the CA taxpayers so foolishly agreed to fund is another government waste of money. Turns out I was right. But remember the LA LA Times and other left wing groups championed the program. Of course it creates jobs, lots of high paying green jobs for consultants, enviro/eco consultants, union jobs all of whom will vote for guess who?

Now the cost, before the project has started, is pushing 100 Billion, more than three times the amount promised by the high salaried 'backers'. Of course they are knocking down salaries that exceed the excess that Obama makes. Kinda makes the bankrupt taxpayers proud.

Governor is trying to figure out a way to close the $500 billion budget gap with a billion in cuts. At that rate the CA budget will be balanced in 500 years, if the legislature does not spend any more money. That's not going to happen!

Notice how the capitalists who have made their money from capitalism, Oprah and Michael Moore come to mind, then go and bash the very system that enabled them to become millionaires and billionaires. Don't notice them giving their money away, it's always 'someone else' to give their money away. How do you spell Socialist/Liberal/Progressive/Democrat Hypocrites?
The rest of the "Progressives", Community Organizers, ministers Jesse and Al, politicians Maxine and Rangle, just take from the working taxpayers to line their plush pockets. More hypocrites!

Is it just me or are the "Occupiers" with their new allies the Union thugs, looking and acting more like the Hitler Storm Troopers, without brown shirts. And these barbarians of an un-civilized society have the sympathy of The Messiah?

ROBO of California

Halloween 2011

2011-11-03T08:57:00.000-07:00

I get in the mood for Halloween sometimes. This year I finished the leather armor with bronze embellished straps, placed the big black steel helmet with a tall brush, on top my head and strapped on the black sword. The long spear was in the den from last year, so I grabbed it to finish the effect.

I became a fully armed, leathered and bearded Roman Gladiator, illuminated by an eerie red LED glow from above the open darkened doorway. My grandkids came by. One, the youngest boy just laughed and pointed, saying "Papa funny". The other brother ran past the door and hid. The younger most adventuresome boy eventually stayed with us for the evening as the trick or treaters came to the door.

He enjoyed giving out the little candy bars to the outstretched bags and pumpkins carried by two dozen princesses, pirates, 'Woody's, ghosts, Zombies and whatnots..

The armed Gladiator, his grandfather, scared a few of the evening's two dozen kids that came to the door. They excitedly ran ahead of their family who were walking up the driveway. They took one look into the open front door where the bearded, black leathered Gladiator bathed in a red glow, stood glaring down at them. They instantly screamed and ran back to their moms. My Halloween 'Tour of Duty' was accomplished. :>)

One previous year, I 'transmogrified' ('Calvin and Hobbs' term) into a black booted, deep voiced, gruff and bearded, scarred and dirty old sailor carrying a heavy long rope looped over my shoulder. I personally knew 'Jack Sparrow' (Pirates of the Carribean), and queried the 'Lubbers' as to my friend, Captain Jack's current whereabouts.

Then asking with great interest, "Any of ye 'Lubbers' evah been.... Tah Sea".?? "How would ye like tah go"? "We need 'mates' on board tah work hard and put sail tah thee ship"... "Have Ye evah been 'Keel Hauled''? "Walked thee plank"? "Been Shanghai'd"?

I then wandered a bit down the block behind them, stalking a few of the larger groups, whilst I was in search of a few straglers to 'Shangai'. They kept looking back while staying close to their parents....... I made them very nervous. :>)

Ran into one kid after he was grown and selling 'door to door'. He said that they were really concerned I was going to grab 'em, tie 'em up with the long rope and drag 'em to a ship, where they would never again see their home and family. Said it was soooo scary......

All of his friends always said it was their scariest and best Halloween EVER. :>)
He said they always remembered..... 'The guy that lived in THAT house'... as Very Scary.
Lucky I wasn't labled for life as a terrorist, deviant or molestor....... today.

Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta 2011

2011-10-10T14:37:00.000-07:00

The Albuquerque New Mexico 40th Balloon Fiesta

ended the week with a beautiful day (as usual in perpetual sunshine ABQ). The last mass accension was this Sunday 09 October 2011, to a sun shiny blue sky dawning.

01 October 2011, the first day's total of 345 launched Per Hour, set some kind of record we are told.

It occurred on the first official day, Saturday of last week. Friday 30 September was the 'ABQ Aloft' day for anxious ballonists desiring to launch from many selected schools around the city. Kids love that exciting day. An avg of about 500 balloons attend the Fiesta lately. During the glory days of US and world prosperity in years past, the total peaked at around 1000.

The latest week's supposed avg of 'attendees' based on recent years, is about 750,000. This years official figure has not yet been released. I heard it said that the nation's prosperity can almost be judged by the number of balloons seen at events like this.

The city sponsored bus rides are mostly the best way to get to and from the daily events. Long lines are normal, waiting for the busses. It is stop and go for cars if you decide to brave the traffic in the early morning of 'O dark 30' hour. Busses get a fast route into the field, making the entry much more convenient.

They launch the first balloon 'Patrol' at the crack of pre-dawn. Daily exhibits from stunt planes to sky divers, including 'Aluminum Overcast' historic B-17 taking rides, fill the hours after all the balloons have landed, some balloons, depending on the wind and their altitude, come to ground pretty far away.

With winds at times rising in speed later in the morning as the sun comes into it's power, landings are often an excitement brewing, tricky 'Balloon Drag' event at times taking out power lines. Sometimes hanging for a long time over a busy intersection, while the power companies on alert come to their rescue, or getting entangled in trees. Not many dull moments around town during the Balloon Fiesta. :>)

The ABQ 'BOX' is one reason that attracts the big event to ABQ. It is a phenomena of cooler and warmer air currents that, depending on altitudes dialed in, continously recycles the 'smartest' piloted balloons back over the field, once in the air. :>)

The international balloons are interesting in their various themes not often seen around ABQ, which has balloons in the sky almost every day, somewhere locally. International visitors are always in the crowds as well. This year several people from China have made the observer's trip based on reports of the colors and excitement, eventually reaching China. No doubt that eventually China will send envoys to represent their own individual freedoms and prosperity.

If you have not been to a really big Balloon gathering that lasts for a week, I would suggest that you visit ABQ's balloon 'fever' at least one time in your life. One visiting woman told a reporter that it was number two on her 'Bucket' list. :>)

The 'special shapes', like a giant black and white Cow and the two big Bees that hold hands, keep people fascinated as well as Darth Vader (kids all cheer as he is launched). The giant castle nor the huge Cinderella Coach was not here this year. Disney often times brings them here to NM for the Fiesta, the biggest balloon event in the world. Special Shapes are usually brought by business that can afford to support the expensive endeavers. Less business profit, less balloons, especially special shapes.

Kodak used to be the major sponsor, due to the amount of film used in capturing the pictures that comprised the most phographed event in the world. With the advent of the digital image industry leaving them all but out of the picture, they wisely opted out.

The huge field itself, irrigated by water pumped from the Rio Grande River, is really big and grassy....now. For years it was held on various dirt lots aroung the city. Even a shopping center for the first one with fewer than a dozen balloons. Now it is a massive dedicated space north of town with a museum and venues for outdooor events available year around including an amphitheater.

RV'ers are encouraged to attend by having several dedicated areas, some with 'hook-ups', many more with 'dry' camping but serviced by suppliers of neccessities such as 'honey dippers' and water trucks. Venders of every imaginable type of memorabilia and item that can be sold, line the long main promenade. No shortage of items for RV's and camping due to 'Camping World' having a large tent near the RV park.

Evening 'Glows' are popular to see the lighted ballons at tether. Rides are always available for a fee. Balloon Pin and card collections keep folks interested in the event. the international Gas balloons attract a different crowd. You may recall the International news about the Loss and eventual recovery month's later, of the Abruzo Gas Balloon last year over the Adriatic Sea off the coast of Italy?

Food is the least of the concerns during this event. The variety of vendors serving every imaginable culture's tasty treats keeps a hungry person almost confused as to choice. :>) A couple were even married at the park. Wonder how often that happens? Groups are always entertaining at the ampitheater and in the main promenade tents and stages. After a day attending and walking, sleep is no problem. Kids are often lost during the glorious chaos of the launches and eventually found. Kids comprise a large portion of the polite and considerate, fun loving crowds.

Las Golendrinas (the Swallows) is a re-enactment Spanish village from the 1700's into recent times. It is just 10 miles south of Santa Fe, about 50 miles north of ABQ. The re-enactors set up the little village as it was about 300 to 100 years ago. Bread baked in 'hornos' (round dome adobe ovens), to chile harvest/roast and wheat ground by a restored waterwheel driven mill from the late 1800's.

Corn stalks 'rolled' by donkey driven rolling mill to extract the sorghum for molasses, to hand spun thread and colorful cloth woven by hand on old looms. Domestic animals are seen roaming the area. Kids enjoy that part. The quality organic (that's the way it was) items produced are often marketed to anxious buyers, just as back in 'The Day'. Art is always on display and for sale, that's just Santa Fe..

Spring planting is another of their seasonal re-enactments, as well as numerous other art and craft exhibits during the year. Entertainment is always ongoing with Spanish dancers from young children, to adults with years of experience. Grapes are harvested for juice and wine making in the old tried and true fashion of the time. It is a trip into the past and family enjoyable for at least a day.

All in all this beautiful fall harvest week around the state has been loaded with activites to keep anyone from being bored. The Greek Festival is another great way to spend a day during Balloon Fiesta. Dancing and food are always on the list of their 'To Do's. The fact that the New Mexico State Fair 'Expo NM' was just culminating, only adds to the long list. Hawk Watch is starting. Held twice a year in the Manzano Mountains, it is also an educational experience to attend.

Open House Thunderbird Precision Flying Demonstrations

(F-16 Fighting Falcon) team visiting Kirtland Air Force Base, was the frosting on the cake. Where else do you see a rare B-1 B 'Lancer'in it's various wing configurations

including an even rarer Northrup Grumman B-2 'Spirit' Stealth Bomber

do a few low pass, including 'knife edge' profile fly-bys?

The large exhibits of walk through 'on ground' aircraft technology including a longevity incredible (1960's technology), active duty Boeing B-52 H 'Stratofortress'

Recently active over the Middle East and C-17 Boeing 'Globemaster'

was great as well. Bell Boeing V-22 Osprey

special Ops vertical lift transport seen often over NM, was standing by for closer inspection.

See ya some day when your bucket list includes perpetually sunny New Mexico on it's rapidly tightening schedule. You cannot pick a more interesting, event intensive time than Fall..:>)

Blogengeezer, the admittedly amatuer reporter of the 'Haps' here ABQ NM, located in the 'Land of Enchantment' of the Great Southwest. The United States of America, Land of the Free, "One Nation Under God" :>)

Western States tour 31 July 2011 beginning

2011-09-29T20:50:00.000-07:00

We are home now, but this is the story of the well over 4,000 mile trip posted in sections dated below.

Finish prepping Jeep, changing oil for tow behind Motor home, I also prepped 'Whistling Thunder Pig' by changing oil (synthetic Super Tech from Walmart) NAPA Gold extra capacity filter, Lubing all 13 articulated suspension grease fittings incl 5 on driveshaft joints, removing original very heavy main CRT TV with son's assistance, for later replacement with LCD. Cleaning, spraying DuPont teflon silicone on landing gear before retraction (saves the seals) and bringing all six 22.5 tires to 110 psi.

Water tank filled. Woodal's camping catalog and 'Next Exit' book (works on Interstates). Loaded Weapons checked and secured (not to be victims like RV'ers Gary and Linda Hass from Oklahoma)

Refrigerator turned on 'shore' electric mode for pre-cool to freezer and cold storage. Load minimal food supplies (continual re-stock and dine out on trip). Include clothing for extended stay with Oregon coastal weather cooling in plans. Made first night reservation Alpen Rose RV Durango Colorado

Stayed in the past and had good experiences on different occasions with grandchildren. Plan: head out, meandering west then north by way of Yellowstone National Park

then toward the west coast during the following days.

Realizing my drivers license was going to expire during the trip, I went to motor vehicle dept (Oh Joy) well ahead of time for renewal. After pulling the tab from the machine at the entrance, to get a sequence number of 069 I patiently sat in the large crowd staring forward.

I then started reading my National Geographic magazine as the numbers were called and flashed over each window of the 'on duty' clerks. After 30 minutes the 069 was called and a window flashed my number. I approached as another man beat me there. The clerk started taking care of his request. I patiently stood behind him. Finally the clerk looked at me irritated, and said "what do you need"?

I showed her the number stub and pointed at her flashed number 069 above the cage. she became irritated and said "This man has an appointment"... Knowing that the system in New Mexico now gives 'Illegals' a drivers license 'by appointment', I realized that I was just a victim of yet another marching govt bureaucracy following an insane law.

She said that I should go sit down and wait until called by someone else because 'this man' would be busy with the clerk for An Hour. I sat down and waited as more numbers were called. Numbers higher than mine.

Getting really annoyed now, I approached another window, was asked what I desired, re-told the story and was told to "sit down Wait my turn, sorry about the line 'bump". After another hour I was finally taken care of, and told the new license was to be 'mailed' (another reactionary law to try and prevent the 'illegals' from living out of state. Ways around that as well). Like the govt regulating your life? Hang on it's about to get rougher.

Now what? We are gone for a duration, traveling out of state and my license will expire. Oh well as they say "The Checks in the mail". After note: Homesitter called, it arrived...day after we left. He forwarded it to little Ilwaco Washington for pick up on my arrival. Same way the illegals get theirs out of state. Ironic that the NM DL is now printed and laminated in Washington State due to NM State printers lack of reliable security. Identity fraud using official NM DL materials..

31 July:
Left ABQ at 2 pm, drive across the NW quadrant of NM, crossing into southern Colorado. Colorado still sprays their irrigation water high into the air from the rolling irrigation field systems, exposing a great portion of it to rapid evaporation. They still have not learned to conserve in 'Green' Colorado.. Arrived Alpen Rose Durango RV park by 6pm. Hook up to site services and settle in with an excellent chicken deli meal picked up earlier from Durango City Market.

Decided to stay one more night at busy Alpen Rose RV park so we could spend a day in Durango. Our #xx space was reserved for an incoming coach after 1 pm, so we were moved to #xx for next night. Departure check out is 11:00 pm but a coach was still parked there? They had checked out, but asked the desk if a 12 o clock departure was ok?..... They wanted to go into Durango.

Desk told them yes... but 'No Later'. We sat in our coach waiting and waiting and waiting, finally co-pilot fixed our lunch in the coach. About 1:30 they leisurely came back from town all happy with 'Their' day, .......2 1/2 hours After Checkout. Inconsiderate to selfishly take other people's time for granted, while enjoying their own.

Campground security chewed them out while I pulled our coach right up behind them. They were running around like wild chickens, while trying to hook up their trailer, disconnect the water, electric and cable, plus drain their holding tanks.

I was sorta hoping they would screw up and do a mistake with the sewer drain hose like Robin Williams in the movie RV, but that would have made a mess that I would have to deal with. I shoulda leaned on the air horns to give them incentive as the guy worked frantically :>)

We Finally got to go into town ourselves about 2:00pm to look around and pick up some 'stuff'.
We head out tomorrow... Before 11am Checkout :>)

02 August:
Growling up over the pass towards Cortez Colorado in first and second gear is joyous :<(... Across the mountains past little Hesperous and it's tiny ski area, through Mancos, past famous Mesa Verde and into Cortez It is a pleasant and scenic drive with green mountainous vistas.

Cortez City Market with it's Deli is a treat, as well as fuel costs discounted (Kroger affiliate). Left for the north through Moab Utah with it's sculptured and tortured beautiful wild Canyonlands National Park. Price Utah with one quiet night in the Walmart lot and a few supplies, then morning departure.

03 August:
on north through little 'Helper' (helper engines for railroad), climb through the photogenic state hwy 6 canyon following the railroad up over Soldier summit, on to Provo Utah Sams Club refuel at $3.38 per gallon.

Traveling north through Salt Lake City shows what an industrious powerhouse this area is. A corridor stretching from Provo to Ogden is intense with construction. Amazing what the balanced 'Minimal' restrictions, regulations and taxes can accomplish..... if done in moderation.

As we drove north past Ogden in 88 degree temperature, the huge and diverse 'Smith and Edwards' surplus and outer's store lured us off the I-15 to browse and pick up a few items. Willard Bay RV and boat ramp rec area nearby was nice and quiet for a $25 night with full 50 amp service (AC runs well), water and dump site. Interesting to walk over and watch the boats launch and retrieve. Some folks do not understand the backing procedure. Hilarious to watch the signals and furious hand waving.

Wiper

are the lab created hybrid fish sought after. A cross of Wide Mouth and Striper Bass makes for good fight and great eating from this freshwater reservoir. The 14 mile horseshoe shaped causeway keeps seperate, the fresh from the salt water. The channel comes out of Ogden to feed the fresh water supply from the snowy mountains and keep it isolated for the city and surrounding areas. What a great engineering project. A team of engineers were drilling core samples for estimates on earthquake resistance of the causeway.

August 4th:
Leaving north over the Idaho state line shows the start of 'Big Sky' (Montana slogan)country with farm and ranch land spread openly to the low rolling hills and valleys. Idaho Falls is a Sams Club refuel at $3.60 and a simple night in the parking lot. Wifi at nearby Hastings allowed catching up on email and news of the world, as stock market plummeted on signing of the debt bill allowing for unimaginable escalating debt of the USA. Estimates are for a future debt of $25 trillion within the next 20 years.

Jay Leno (joked?) that president 'Justin Bieber' will handle it then. Breakfast and lunch at McDonald's and we drive on to Yellowstone West Entrance for a few days camping.

05 August Enter Yellowstone National Park:

West Yellowstone Entrance gate board with campsites available, showed 'Full'. U turn back to Henry's Lake west of town for 2 nights, elec only at $42.50 total. Water not working due to main line repair. 'Bill' cut the line while trenching. Ken working in trench, Annabelle laying in dirt in her Ranger uniform eventually got all working again. Mosquitos supervised the operation. The Snake River Valley was formed by a glacier during the last Ice Age leaving 1,500 acre feet Henry's Lake in it's melt. Dam construction later increased it's size to 86,000 acre feet. Fishing was it's first profitable industry. Snowmobile invented there.

Sunday 8-7 re-enter Yellowstone once again. Fishing Bridge (no fishing from bridge) Campground had one reservation open for 'hard sided' campers only. Birds are their theme but no birds seen. Evening hike revealed that many dozens of Fishing Bridge camp sites are closed off for installation of power lines. Silent and peaceful camp, no external clawing at the hard sides. :>)

Monday 8-8 On drive toward north entrance watch for Gibbons Falls. It comes up quick and the parking lot gets filled early. No Bears were ever seen on any of the three trips we have made to magnificent Yellowstone Park. Even Fishing Bridge RV park, with it's Bear resistant 'hard side' camper restriction was uneventful as far as animals were concerned.

Scattered distant Bison, one rolling in dirt attracted a traffic jam, and one rare Elk's butt were our only animal sightings along the highway. Magnificent scenery is always special in spite of no visible critters. Countless Geysers are the main tourist attractions throughout the park. Steaming 'Roaring Mountain' hints at nature's immense power lurking below the surface. Tour Busses are packed into many areas.

One international bus with raised top, even had individual bunks for it's passengers. More visitors in one year today, than the entire first 60 years of the Park's existence. During the mid to late 2000's, infrastructure was improved at the national parks including the lodge facility using federal revenue sharing matched with commercial enterprise funding (Dirk Kempthorne, secretary of the Interior knew many industrialists). Nice food service cafe now.

1988 fires did a world of good for the park by ridding it of the historically unsustainable fuel load, created by dousing every little fire immediately. The historic meadows known by the Indians and first reported by the trappers, are now available to the animals for grazing once again. The National Park service under pressure from 'environmentalists' is busily creating another fuel load. Many roadside areas are getting thick again with view hindering highly flammable Trees. Too much 'Hugging'?

Yellowstone Lake is the largest 'Mountain' lake in the USA. The lively Yellowstone River tumbles alongside the north exit road down to Mammoth. Do not ever miss the visitor parking areas at any of the noted viewing spots. 'Terrace' area is many huge stair steps of heavily mineral laden water in big steps down the mountainside.

Leaving Yellowstone by way of Mammoth north entrance is a test of coach engine braking on the narrow pavement steep downgrade. Cell Phone is again available to reconnect with society. Gardiner is further down the mountain north entrance from Mammoth.

Butte Montana with it's huge deposits of copper, created the Copper Kings

such as William Clark (reclusive daughter 'Hugette' died recently). Anaconda won out in the endless battles for supremacy in the mining of Copper. Robert Craig 'Evel' Knievel, 1938 to 2007, is buried here in his home town.

8-10:
trekked on to, now college town, Missoula Montana (once logging and railroads) I-90 along the Clark River Fork. Northern Pacific, Burlington and even 'The Milwaukee Road' (electric) made their mark through the hills. Some old Milwaukee Road tracks are still visible alongside the highway.

8-10/11:
Missoula has a Costco for fuel topoff of 34 gallons at $3.63 and a well deserved lunch at Cracker Barrel. River looked so inviting that a 2 nights stay at 'Sloway' National Park was enjoyed. Railroad passed by on opposite side of river. Boeing is receiving many interesting fuselages by rail. River is popular for raft and canoing.

8-12 Leaving Sloway:
We passed through the beautiful mountainous terrain to Kellog. The historic 1910 Fire that burned over 3 million acres with smoke causing disruptions even to north Atlantic shipping as far as London England. Still visible scars on the mountainsides. Gold mining was also the reason for the existence of several towns along this route. The big black plastic lined Cyanide pits are now working the tailings. Nice litle RV 'dump station' located just off the highway in Kellogg.

CoerD'lene Idaho with it's trademark lake is always breath taking as approached from the southeast. We continued on to Spokane along the newly created business corridor between the cities. A nice quiet night spent in the Costco lot after our top off of fuel ($3.64 gal).

8-13 left Spokane:
on hwy 2, (tricky to find this hwy) across the irrigated farm land. This was educational. How they grow irragated crops in this arrid desert is amazing. All of the way to 'Coulee' and the dams (Grand Coulee) of the Columbia River is wheat land. This horizon to horizon rolling and highly productive land is beautiful. The hungry world depends on this productivity being protected. Never 'overly tax' the profit motivated producers with political vote pandering or food production will be degraded to it's previous sustenance farming, leaving population controlling mass starvations in it's wake, simalar to the pre-industrial age..

The highway previously elevated due to the high plains, quickly turned downward into tortured ravines as it descends into the immensely prosperous Wenatchee Valley of Washington with a carpet of fruit trees spread out before us, we were amazed at this, yet another fertile part of our nation. Buying cherries the size of ping pong balls, was a pleasure at one of the numerous fruit stands along the chain of Columbia River reservoirs. Fishing is always visible on the rivers and reservoirs.

13 August:
8-13 Starting the climb out of the Wenatchee valley up through the Olympic mountain range is grueling on the rig. Tumwater Campground, pleasant and helpful host had one last 'pullthrough' site at $8.50 (w Golden Age pass). Quiet night among dozens of excited campers with a bit of smoke from their little campfires, was endurable after all of the down and uphill miles driven in low gears.

14 August:
Morning left Tumwater National campground on continued climb up through the beautiful Cascades mountain range, past dozens of waterfalls, over Stevens Pass and down 7% grade for another 7 miles while stopping for scenic photo shots of cascading waterfalls, proved enjoyable.

Everitt Washington Costco fuel at $3.59 saved no money due to intense City traffic congestion. Advise to fuel at outlying stations for pennies more, to save time and money.

Whidbey Island is our goal with it's unique isolated island setting.
Mulkiteo Ferry landing was down more hills. $55 for the trip across the Puget Sound to Whidbey Island. Nice ride on large ferry to Clinton landing followed by departure on highway toward the City of Oak Harbor 'Staysail RV Park'. $20 a night w full hookups was a great deal for two pleasant evenings stay.

15 August Oak Harbor:
depart for a 20 mile side trip north over Scenic Deception Pass bridge. It was the site of a film shoot for VW commercial as we waited in traffic. Fidelgo Island in the Jeep to Anacortes was enjoyable for the chance to see the ship yards and the downtown area. Anacortes ferry terminal was extremely busy in the past.... before the need for passports to return into USA from visiting Canada's British Columbia. Include the obnoxiously indebted US dollar's decline against the more conservative Canadian Dollar.. Ahh the past, so enjoyable it ...was. Interesting sea faring dependent Anacortes has a nice RV park south of town on the tidewater flats. Anacortes is also accessable from a highway rather than the way we 'ferried'.

8-16 Jeep round trip visit to touristy, expensive Coupeville, Freeland and Langley before return to our park site.

8-17 left in coach for the Port Townsend Ferry. Boarded first in line for agreat view of the voyage while sitting in our seats. A 30 minute trip across the sound to the quaint little town of Port Townsend was fine entertainment. A night at the Harbor RV park at $35 was our chance at the last available site. We were not going to stay overnight here, but the little town was too attractive to pass up. Temperatures for this trip ended pleasantly at lows in the mid 40's at night, 70 during the days, compared to highs of near 90 during a few earlier days of the trip.

The shipyards are busy with repairs and rejuvination of the commercial fishing boats. Port Townsend boatyard allows the owner to supply his own restoration crew rather than forcing the owner to use the boatyard's crews on 'their' terms.

This 'Freedom' makes it the busiest and most sought boatyard on the coast for it's size. The 300 ton lifting rig was impressive. Pleasure craft with numerous 'for sale' signs, were mostly stored in dry dock at Anacortes. Economy not as well as reported? Or winter approaching?

Our harbor camp site has a great view of the sound with it's numerous sail boats, ferries and container ships passing in front of our coach. I parked the coach in the opposite direction for the view, to the concern of some regulation obsessed neighbors. They asked "Can you do that"? :>)

Port townsend harbor RV park is quite interesting, especially if you get a nice site that looks out to the water. Interest in wooden boats is a major attraction here. Pygmy Wooden strip Kayaks are just one of the beautiful little craft created here. Sailing lessons are often observed as the little 'Rubber Ducky' Zodaic coaches the novice sailing regattas perfecting their skills.

8-19:
Next night was spent at Fall's View National Park. $5 per night w Golden Age Pass. Seal Rock was nicer at $9 per night, but filled. Oysters and clamming, fishing in general are the attractions around the Hood Canal.

Fall's View hiking trail was 1.5 miles entailing switchbacks and a vertical drop of 440 feet. It was hot and humid in the 'jungle' along the trail. The Falls are nice trickles from the mountainside this time of year. Probably wild in the spring snowmelt. Big River rocks with their rapids are more like big whitewater kayak fun this time of year. We stayed two nights to allow the busy family weekend to pass before we continued our trip west to the coast.

8-21/22:
Scenic highway 101 is always a treat as we approached Shelton Washington. Restock of supplies at Walmart and Fred Meyer store. Goodwill yielded a few treasures :>) Greys Beach State Park, near where many concrete bunkers remain from historic coastal defence was full, lighthouse was pretty but ranger sent us to nearby Twin Harbors State Park with it's 300 spaces in the trees. Full hook-up sites were crowded together and not as nice as the lesser dry camping we chose, a private little park in itself.

Side trip in Jeep back 20 miles to Aberdeen Washington where the rail road and marine supplies for the seasonal fishing industry keep the town intact. Westport's theme is commercial fishing and the Ferry Port near 'the strip' of quick restaurants and gift shops. Maritime museum has skeleton of a whale as it's marker. Pacific Ocean beach is a few hundred yards from our site. After our time of absence, we Love to hear the roar of the waves again.

8-23 leave Twin Harbors:
Enter CAPE DISSAPOINTMENT...named so, after Capt Meares was dissapointed to find it Not the mouth of the Columbia River. Still in all, it is wonderful. He only missed by a mile:>) Lewis and Clark left lots of notes about this area. After being trapped at 'Dismal Niche' on the Columbia River for many days, It was their first sighting of the Pacific Ocean. "O the Joy"..

This amenity loaded state park is always filled now. Reservations are a neccessity unless you can aquire a cancellation early in the morning. The large circular paved and tree shaded pods nearest to the ocean are in demand up to a year in advance. Sometimes you can be lucky early in the morning..... if someone has died :>)

We take whatever is available while we travel an open agenda and make no reservations. This few nights camp was near the office in an open park near the little store. We drove to the nearby ocean on days we desired to walk through the access paths to the shoreline beaches. The two Lighthouses are beautiful at night. The trails to the lighthouses are open for hiking. North Head light is open for visitors not far from the interesting Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center.

The Cape Dissapointment lighthouse overlooking the north jetty, is maintained by the nearby coast guard station but hiking is still open to look out to sea from it's high vantage point. Hiking is a major attraction as the numerous trails are well marked. Bicycles are everywhere kids care to ride.

The late 1800's Jetty construction with it's intricately engineered ancient rail trestles still visible, is intriquiging to explore and visualize taking place over the ten years of intense labor and expense after the USA emerged from the Civil War. A new land mass is forming on the sides of the jetties as the massive basalt rock (from Idaho) structures collect sand driven northward by the ocean's winter currents. Seals and Sea Lions rest here during migration.

The new little brick oven pizza stand near the popular 'Waikiki Beach' (near special events amphitheater) is also a vendor supplied wifi hot spot. Enjoy the good food, but prepare to wait. This big state park is now busy most of the time. Co-pilot suspects that more folks are now RV'ing while exploring the USA instead of world travel.

The waves are 'lively' during the stormy winter months. Fort Canby is not far, and quite a fascinating historical restoration complete with cannons and museum. We drive the Long Beach Peninsula to visit the lttle towns like 'Long Beach'. Little Ilwaco and it's harbor is another great little treasure. Picked up my mailed general delivery NM driver's licence in Ilwaco post office :>)

Ambiance of the Peninsula is rural and layed back except for tourist season when the traffic is heavy. Cranberry Festival as well as many other special events are celebrated seasonally. Public Access to the 'Long Beach' on the Pacific Ocean is available all along the stretch of miles north along this Washington state peninsula. 'Jack's is our favorite general store with is 'back to the past' nostalgia atmosphere. Historic little Oysterville is wonderful, especially if you like Oysters to grill in the shell for super.

8-28: Left Cape Dissapointment State Park Washington:
To cross the fascinating Astoria-Meglar Bridge into Oregon. It is quite the experience to cross the unpredictable ocean on a bridge. The mouth of the Columbia River is five miles wide at this point, so you are virtually crossing the ocean. Fishing season is in full swing now in last days, so the boats are in abundance.

Grumman's experimental 'Plainview' turbine fast boat is at eternal rest five miles east of the bridge on the Washington side, if you are interested in a bit of history laying in the mud.

The south end of the over five mile long bridge, climbs a high grade to allow international shipping to pass below to Portland and beyond on their way up-river. Astoria has the wonderful Coast Guard Maritime Museum that will take easily a day to see. The restored Pilot boat is on display in the parking lot in case you miss the entrance. The Columbia Lightship and other vessels are tied at dock on display and tour. Great Fish and Chips are served at the fishing boat in the park across the street. Check out the interesting 'drive on' docks.

8-28 arrive Ft Stevens:
Astoria is our daily return site from the Ft Stevens State Park just west and south of Astoria. The Astoria Tower is to be seen if you like looking at the Columbia River layout from altitude. One dollar gets you a year's parking and a tad more lets you climb up inside the tower. Do not miss all of the 'Lewis and Clark' exhibits along this Columbia River including Tort Clatsop near Astoria. Their incredible story is told at many stops along the north western route of their historic 'Voyage of Discovery'.

Fort Stevens is a really nice and very big Oregon State Park with many treesy campsites. We always find one, but maybe have to move a bit if reserved. Nice rangers/hosts and very accomodating.... even when the sign outside says 'Full', they usually find something.

Seasonal evening Ranger Talks are a fine way to learn about the area. I liked "The Graveyard of the Pacific" talks about the shipwrecks. The Peter Iredale, an iron hulled sailing ship is the resident 'shipwreck' not far from the campsites. It is gradually diminishing after it's questionable demise about a hundred years ago.

4x4 Driving on the beach is most times allowed if the sand is stable. Don't try the loose dry sand uless you have mega tires and high clearance. We drive the moist shoreline to see the sea birds and watch the people play along the ocean's waves. We love the ceaseless roar of the waves.

A real treat is getting a campsite at any coastal park near enough to listen the Roar all night. The columbia River south jetty has an observation tower to watch the waves in action. Winter storms will deffinetly wet your body. Surf boarders and para foil surfers were in competition on one day. Great atheletes with stamina.

Definetly tour the historic fort with it's deep concrete bunkers and numerous massive cannon emplacements. The tours are a 'must do' with historic explanations of it's importance and cutting edge technology. It was fired upon by a Japanese Sub during WWII.

8-31 left Ft Stevens:
Oregon Coastal drives are always fun, even with a big coach. Cannon Beach is a tourist destination with it's boutique shops and eating establishments. Our destination is Kelly's Brighton Marina, a small crabbing and fishing RV park right on the tidal bay.

Looking out the window to see the dozens of seagulls come in at sunset for their familar roosting on the log breakwater, is a quiet pleasure. Kelly will fix you up with a few crabs, boiling them as well, or let you catch your own for a nice Dungeness Crab dinner. Rent his boats and equipment for a better chance at some seafood. Wild blackberries are all along the abandoned RR tracks. I picked over 5 lbs within a mile before sunset. Good on my breakfast :>)

02 September:
Left Kelly's on scenic drive over the high mountain coastal road. Manzanita is far below the pullouts. Do not miss any of the Pullouts or you will miss some unforgettable scenery of post card subjects. San Dune Pub is a good Fish and Chips joint in Manzanita. Para foils pull little sand buggys to entertain watchers. Kites and the beaches are always in happy union.

Our next Cape Meares State Park was full, so we were advised to check out a list provided by the ranger. Little Tillamook River Park looked the best for us. The tidewater affected Trask and Tillamook river define it's embanked perimeter. Met an AF officer and his wife, he is of the Royal Danish AF 722 sqn Rescue M-504. I now have a small decal of his Merlin Helo with a smiling face. He was leaving to return to duty after his tour of the west coast of the USA. Flying over the north sea must be quite challenging to say the least. We often meet fellow RV'ers of fascinating backgrounds during our tours.

The first day while having lunch in the coach, we heard a loud explosian and the power went out. A Great Blue Heron landed on the top ground wire and touched it's wing to one of the 12,500 volt phase wires.

The entire Cape Meares peninsula was out of power, the big bird exploded. His expresson looked surprised (I got a few feathers ;>). The power company reset the breaker within the next hour. Cows are everywhere around Tillamook, including the fields near the RV park, due to the Cheese factory, it's only industry remaining other than some logging operations. Oregon 'pollution' regulations are difficult to abide by, so farming is a challenge. Diapers soon on the cows? :>)

Traveling and camping the popular scenic 101 coast on holidays is tough without reservations. little Tillamook River RV Park was great for our style of side trips to see Tillamook each day. Tillamook Cheese Factory is a great tour. Love their yogurt and ice cream. They make good sandwiches as well. The Historic Air Museum in the classic dirigible hanger is a 'don't miss'. The old hanger (largest wooden structure) may be torn down some day, so see it before it's gone.

Tillamook HS team is 'The Cheese Makers'... don't laugh or they will make 'cheese' of your favorite team :>) The scenic 'Three Capes' drive will occupy a couple of trips. Part of the road is gone now so prepare for detours. See the Cape Meares Light house. It is a short hike and takes tours during the day.

Oregon Cycle Club is riding the coastline 101 this week so bicyclists are in abundance, thousands of them to watch for on each mile of the coast highway, ending their ride in southern Oregon at Port Orford. International and domestic bicycle riders are always on this highway as are motorcycles.

06 Sep left Tillamook River RV Park:

Coastal highway 101 to Newport Oregon:
Over it's beautiful Gothic Bridge engineered by Conde McCullough, notorious Oregon highway engineer. It took only 200 men about 2 years to build, and it still is georgeous. $3.83 fuel Jeep. Newport Marina RV park is so nice with a laundry facility and fine evening view of the lighted bridge, we stayed for several nights.
Keith the local 'Popeye' is still on patrol, living with his wife on a classic sailing boat while working for the marina.

NOAA has recently built it's Pacific Coast headquarters near the marina. The big popular Aquarium is nearby, as well as the old seaport with it's busy fishing fleet. Lots of things to visit around historic Newport including lighthouses, so take your time and don't rush away. Travel upriver for more interesting villages from the past. Logging is Oregon's heritage, so be sure and observe where it all took place.

In the past, Newport Cafe was our fav, this time friendly Monica's teen aged daughter waited on us with facial orifice piercings and tats. Monica's husband no longer does the cooking. We now Really enjoy the little Crab restaurant on the south end of the Newport Bridge, not far from the marina park.

Sept 11 left Newport:
Florence Oregon is our fuel topoff at Fred Meyers (Kroger affiliate) for $3.64 with card. Florence is the start of the miles of huge sand dunes lining the ocean and growing big forests in their sand mountains.

Arrived at Winchester Bay 4:30 pm, choosing to stay on the marina paved lot dry camp for $12 a night, rather than the full hookup sites. Nightly patrol of the docks showed the familiar commercial fishing boats still intact. Many dozens of 'crabbers' were coming and going through the boat launch area. Two men at the cleaning table had their limit within an hour or so. Due to the river entrance angle, no Tsunami damage here. Grizzly was in port with a couple of other commercial fishing boats, Ocian was at sea.

The Lighthouse (Many on the Oregon coast) is still beautiful with it's massive red and clear Fresnel lens (valued at over $7 million dollars today) still rotating in spite of budget cuts to US Coast Guard threatening to bring it to a halt. The little museum at the lighthouse is still open. The exquisite and huge sand dunes around this area are the main attraction, filling the RV parks with dune buggy/motorcycle/ATV enthusiasts.

Cassie's Unger's Bay floating restaurant is still the attraction at her private 'T' Dock off the marina parking lot near the office. Wonderful fish and chips along with her resident wild duck familys quietly quacking for a handout. Fun to watch them swim around the restaurant. Met Cassie (still very pretty) and told her how much we love her food and unique little cafe. Thank you Cassie for a bright spot in our evenings.

13 September left Winchester Bay;
Arrive Coo's Bay Oregon at 'The Mill' Casino:
More scenery as we drive along the always favorite Oregon Coastal highway. Another great bridge to cross the Coo's River. Nightly registration is No charge at dry camping lot.

We chose it over the well appointed grassy RV sites here, due to our unpredictable needs. An evening in the casino left us a few dollars poorer in exchange for the few nights stay. Cape Asago is beautiful and the historic Louis Simpson story about his life and house site is interesting to research at the view center near the gardens gift shop. Special events are often held at this park.

The scenery of this rugged coast is a painters viewpoint seen often in art galleries. Ships with their own loaders, are patiently waiting for 'their' logs at the docks not far from the downtown river walk docks. Japan requires them for their Tsunami rebuilding effort. Many are 'milled' into boards in much more economical China.

Some of 'Japan's logs 'milled' in China, are supposedly finding their way back to the US to be sold in stores for profit necessary to fund their rebuilding effort. Leftist Liberal (no shortage of that in economically depressed Oregon as well as the Pacific coast) Political anger is apparent.

Japan owns the logs as they now also own 'their' US forests (we, needing cash, sold them), so we have no business telling them what they they can or cannot do with 'Their' logs. Especially in the name of 'creating' US jobs for political gain. When the spend crazy US govt is forced to 'Sell the Farm' to pay it's bills, the hay goes along with the deal..

Sept 14 left Coo's Bay:
Brooking's Harbor is our 7 day paradise overlooking the Pacific Ocean sea wall at the port marina RV park.
Age is becoming apparent at the tight 30 amp parking sites. The crushed rocks sand logged and are no longer able to coax the water under the surface, so mud is often unavoidable.

Michaelle, using her skills on re-arranging RV park reservations was able to find us a site (someone died :>)for a couple of nights and then move us to another for the duration of the week. The last night is free. Michaelle came from Klamoth Falls in 2004 to seek her fortune managing the RV park office.

Ray, the resident 'live aboard' is still active. He told of the damage from the Japanese Tsunami flooding and draining the harbor five times, destroying the classic wooden three masted Sea Whelp. When they tried to lift it with the hoisting straps, it exploded into it's base components. Oh well it lived for over a hundred years. The 5/8" bolts were rusted to 1/4" so restoration was almost impossible on this 90 footer.

Several docks and boats were destroyed, as visible on You Tube. Josia (fishing boat) was finished in repairs and undergoing her sea trials when the captain left the controls for a minute. She ran aground in the jettys and was destroyed during removal causing great financial loss for her owners. Another old wooden boat, she now lies in pieces at the boat salvage yard.

'Pineapple' the displaced Hawiian is still fabricating crab nets. The public fishing pier is still busy with happy customers casting his traps and retrieving crabs. A family affair, the pier is busy in each season. The nearby US Coast Guard Station is still busy taking to sea, in training for the winter storms.

Brookings is comprised of many angled streets hiding it's treasures. The rock outcropping (the Point) from the treatment station is still shaking from each big wave. Exciting to hike to it's high vantage point and feel the shudders under your feet. Fred Meyers is our supply depot. Anything needed is available in Brookings so it is usually busy at all times of day.

21 September left Brooking's on 101 coastal highway:
After tank dump and water refill, we left to fill the propane at the top of the hill station before leaving for our escape south on 101 across the California state line.

Driving south to cross the California state line and the always present 'Border Patrol' of California. Nice stop...this time, no 'Boarding search' like last year. Only question was about fruit. Crescent City was a lunch destination at Jack in the Box. Great food by the way. Crescent City Harbor was the scene of wave damage (You Tube) from the Tsunami.

One time we chose to take the 101 California coastal route. Traffic is horrendous in California. We were forced to pull over every few minutes to allow passing. The drive through the scenic Redwood Forest on 99 is much better and a treat like Yellowstone, but shorter in duration.

The oncoming log trucks are always intimidating, especially on one narrow blind curve. We met no trucks on the curve.... this time. The loop back into Oregon is the only southern route to get back to Interstate 5, which is our planned return highway through northern Cal. Medford Ore is similar in weather ambiance to Albuquerque NM.

The working economy is better in Medford than the coastal cities, which are more tourist fluctuated. The western states are suffering from unemployment officially under reported. Many groups of homeless and unemployed were encountered on this trip. Logging is still the main but limited source of jobs. Japan needs the lumber from 'Their' owned US forests to rebuild. Coos Bay docks have export flagged freighters waiting for loads of 'Their' logs from the trucks.

Left Medford after a night at Walmart. While there, we met a homeless family that at least has one member still proudly employed as a tow truck driver. They are staying in the Walmart lot, living in campers until inevitably being forced to move on. A couple and mother-in-law, along with three young girls. We helped them with a few girls small gifts and McDonald's gift cards to ease their weak financial drudgery.

September 22 Left Medford Walmart:
Highway I-5 is always interesting to travel with Mt Shasta's peek-a-boo a main attraction. The snow cap is less than last year and Lake Shasta is down again. Last year was record near filled and hard to beat.

September 22 Corps of Engineers Black Butte Reservoir:
is still nice and seldom has crowds during the after summer months. Drier year, so no preponderance of Deer and of course no magnificent resident Cougar like in years past. Acorns are fewer, so not as many red headed 'Acorn Woodpecker' flocks to watch flit about. Blubirds are still mirror sitters on the coach. After a wise Yuba City Sam's Club top-fill $3.76 gal for fuel tank, we Left for our climb over Donner Pass. The climb to the 7,000 foot summit is slow in first and second gear with fuel consumption obvious on the guage. Yuba City Cal fill was still not enough to comfortably make the Provo/Orem Utah Costco.

We spent the night just east of the scenic pass at the Spaulding Reservoir Campground. Never imagined that the entrance road was so narrow and winding down a steep grade to the surprising site of the 'closed' camp entrance. Sending copilot further down hill in the now disconnected Jeep for re-con, we then drove down the steep one lane with it's drop off edges through the close trees and parked on the lot near the boat launch ramp for $22.

Nice lake used for Hydro-electric power, but not really an entrance road for a large motorhome to access. I slept fitfully thinking how best to manage the escape in the morning. The Co-pilot drove the Jeep using it to block the one lane road at the top. The CB radios came in useful to tell me when to start the mad run up the hill with the coach. First gear barely was geared low enough even at 4,000 rpm of the engine. Swinging that long 24,000 lb mass of coach through the trees was daunting, even after a trial run in the Jeep earlier.

Donner Pass Highway to I-80 is under new construction, so Donner Pass was not the nightmare of last year. Fact of heavy rigs, First and second gear upgrade are repeated on the downhill runs as well. Nevada State line is casino littered naturally.

Reno Nevada was another top-fill of fuel, just to be sure of Orem Utah fuel stop. Motorcycle events were the reason for thousands of motorcycles on the great circle to Reno. An 'undressed' Elk with large rack, was our only sighting of note. On an ATV in the back of a pick up truck, it was bound for a ride across the I-80. Sure it will taste good after the miles of highway?

To cross into Nevada is interesting due to the beginning of flat dry lakes at 4,000 ft altitude. Lake Bonneville was large in it's historic day. The 4,000 foot dry lake beds are repeated all across this interesting terrain to Salt Lake City Utah. Elko Nevada was our Walmart stop overnight on the hill overlooking the little town. The sight of large oil drips covering the parking lots, indicate very high mileage older vehicles in abundance. The hint of a very depressed economy.

The crossing has sometimes been interesting with 'Dugway' rocket firings easily observable from the highway. Wendover was McDonald's lunch. The trucks that haul the overly large equipment for govt testing, are seen on this route. Utah has the Great Salt Lake basin which covers a hundred miles in front of us. Flat and straight, the highway has many warnings of 'Drowsiness' puntuated by examples of it's effects...large tracks leading off the highway into the salt beds.

Salt Lake City is prosperous to no end. Every manufacturer is doing well and many are expanding. A boom is always taking place somewhere in Utah. Their politics are definetly more conducive to Free Enterprise than restrictive states like Oregon with it's high un-employment. A corridor of prosperity south through Provo to Orem, is lined with no less than three Costco stores to satisfy the consumers appetites. Mining and other activities distateful to the Eco Terrorists, are obviously carrying on as needed in Utah. Orem Costco is our fill at $3.50, the lowest on the trip so far.

South of Salt Lake City begins the drop into the valley through 'Helper'. Named for it's Helper engines used to get trains over the Soldier Summit. The night drive was nasty in headlight blindness due to bugs covering the windshield and a washer failure on the wipers. Following is little 'Price' Utah with it's Walmart lot for the night. The oil spots are visible in Price as well. Not the boom town of Salt Lake City.

Leaving Price, heading for Moab Utah is the beginning of the Canyonlands National Recreation Area. No loss of impressive scenery on this drive. Keep the camera at the ready for the large outcropopings of rocks, they are always fascinating to record. Moab is a tourist destination with Jeeps an all sorts of offroad recreation to tour or drive in rentals. The motels and campgrounds area always filled in this wild and Free area of the western USA.

As we leave south eastern Utah and enter western Colorado, the irrigation system favors a wasteful 'spray high into the air' method of randomly wetting the crops. Apparently they have not gotten the word to conserve water? Cortez Colorado near famous Mesa Verde is our last link to New Mexico.

Sunshine has been following us for over a week now, after leaving Brooking's Harbor Oregon. New Mexico is always sunny and Shiprock is visible on the southern horizon. Farmington Sam's Club is our fuel stop at $3.40 a gallon followed by a quiet night's stay on their grassy side before leaving to ABQ.

The Conoco Station in town has a sewer dump site for those interested. The 200 miles to ABQ is nice and relaxing on a good highway. The difference was most noticeable in comparison to the Colorado highway leading south out of Cortez, our worst section of highway on the entire trip. 55 mph was way to fast for that undulating and broken stretch of Colorado pavement.

As we drove into the ABQ Sam's Club for our last fill at $3.05 per gallon, home was in the air. Too bad we didn't risk the run on the last few gallons, not filling at Farmington.

Picture descriptions will soon periodically be added day by day to follow as we moved across the western states and down the northwest Pacific Ocean coast.

'Cookie Bandit' Joseph Henry Burgess

2011-08-01T20:13:00.000-07:00

Details From the Albuquerque Journal: 28 July 2011. Article by Rozanna M. Martinez:

In 2009 the Jemez Mountains of Northern New Mexico were the scene of a fatal encounter with two Sheriff's Deputies setting a stakeout for a habitual cabin robber dubbed 'The Cookie Bandit'. Deputy Joe Harris was hit in the femoral artery and bled out during the next hour, while waiting for medical assistance in the remote National Forest. After being fatally wounded, Deputy Harris shot and killed Burgess in the scuffle.

Joseph Henry Burgess 62, the cabin robber had been prowling the Jemez National Forest harassing people for many long years. My son and his family were confronted by him during an outing at the family cabin. He became very physically agitated by a dam on the family property. Our son wisely retreated into the cabin with his children and wife, locking the doors.

Burgess's long record as another violent environmentalist posing as a survivalist, included the suspicion of deaths of young hikers in Canada in 1972 and a strikingly similar occurrence in northern California. After the fatal encounter, his identity was finally revealed and reported as a possible serial killer with several unsubstantiated hiking and camping victims. Including the 2006 disappearance of David Eley, another hiker who's .357 weapon mortally wounded Deputy Joe Harris. Eley's remains were later found by search teams, buried in the forest area near the scene. Burgess obviously through attack or deceit, forcible took possession of Eley's weapon.

During the stakeout, Deputy Joe Harris and Deputy Theresa Moriarty were surprised by the middle of the night break in at the cabin. Deputy Harris, a large man, handcuffed Burgess after a struggle, but Burgess had a weapon not discovered during the take down, and shot Deputy Joe Harris. Deputy Moriarty had Deputy Harris's weapon, but couldn't figure it out. Deputy Harris, although mortally wounded, grabbed it back and killed Burgess, reportedly shooting him in the head. One early report was that Deputy Theresa Moriarty had forgotten her weapon she was familiar with, back in their truck (I wonder what she was thinking?). She also apparently did not understand even basic procedure to stem the flow of Deputy Harris's femoral arterial bleeding. Question.... was she frozen under duress? Deputy Joe Harris was given full honors at his well attended funeral.

Now that time has passed and Theresa Moriarty has been released from the sheriff's dept, after not being able to do her duties, she is now bringing a lawsuit against the Sandoval County Sheriff's department. She claims she was not fully trained in 'undercover' stakeouts, weapons were not standardized, she was not supported by the department, not given backup, not given reliable radios or cellphones and not told they were possibly dealing with a deadly violent serial killer (they only learned who he was, 'after' the fingerprints confirmed his identity).

She also states that although she was a sworn and uniformed Sheriff's Deputy, she was normally assigned as a Sandoval County school system security officer with cushy assignments, not accustomed to violent confrontations.

Some of what she says is reportedly to some extent viable. Also apparent is she failed to even have knowledge of basic procedures to assist her partner in his last minutes of life. The most apparent mistake by the Sandoval County Sheriff's Dept was in hiring an unqualified deputy in the first place. Theresa Moriarty is also claiming PTSD, emotional and physical strains after the encounter, preventing her from returning to work. If I recall correctly, possibly mistaken, she came to NM supposedly experienced? from a law enforcement agency somewhere back east.

'Deep Pockets' is the term used by lawyers when they have an easy mark. Sorry Sandoval County, Looks like your taxpayers are going to be 'Easy'.

Old School 1940's, 1950's USA

2011-07-20T22:21:00.000-07:00

Educational life during the 'good old days' was sometimes fraught with frustrations (a Yogi'ism). Today in many instances, classrooms are sorted according to abilities and learning potentials, at least the better ones.

Dad had been a school teacher and principle before I was born. He taught me to read and write when I was about three. He would stand me in front of a gathering and have me recite poetry. No TV, wii, IPods, IPads, Texting or computers back then so entertainment was fairly simple. Even the phone was rare, course the 8 to 16 Party line sometimes proved fun to listen in on. Lawyers were extremely rare, so no one was arrested for listening. Govt didn't dare get involved with our Freedom.

I had two little cork covered notebooks that I had to print, then write connected script words in every day. The entire process backfired when I started to the farm community elementary school in first grade... In Dad's reasoning.. one year later than the other kids. By then I could read faster than the teacher and even figured I could outspell her. As far as I was concerned at the time, the rest of the class were among the slowest people I had ever met, and I had to get into the lowest gear to accomodate them.

Roger, a fun friend, was in granny gear and sometimes even reverse while reading, so I was forced to read at his speed or lose my place when the teacher called on me. Needless to say I mentally was far away out in the fields, bird and rabbit hunting, or driving the tractors in 'never never' land, when she called on me.

My grades were in the tank all through school because of it. Except spelling. I was always the last boy, and quite often the last kid standing in 'Spelldowns' during elementary school. Three girls could sometimes take turns and outspell me in competition, but rarely. The girls hated it whenever I beat them. The boys cheered.

On other subjects that required discipline to study and homework for structured test day, I tossed aside and barely squeaked by my entire school years with an overall C to D average (F was fail). It became a pattern I could never shake.. Fugedabout college...

Liked history enough that within days I quickly read each years entire book (always enjoyed history and geography)... then fell asleep.... At my desk... in my own drool. That really did me in, as far as classroom regimen was concerned. Structured English was not much better, but with a great woman teacher that had been a Bomber Ferry Pilot in WWII (her husband had been a fighter pilot and perished in an air battle over Europe), I stayed in school and succeeded on schedule to K-12 graduation.

During the first day of Geography, I picked up the fascinating new book.... and read it cover to cover. Again sooo bored at the rest of the class trying to make sense of the new words. Fell asleep in class. A pattern was forming.. bad boy.

My private little home school was curled up in my grandparents big brass tacked red leather chair with their library of countless National Geographics. I read each and every one of the past issues from cover to cover, some repeatedly. I could barely wait for the new issue.

Ever hear of the word Deportment? I got a big F in red print on that part of my report card. Self Control was the other F.... Issues? Didn't think so myself. As a kid I started swinging as soon as I felt threatened in any way, but not anything like the brother and sister that were placed in our 4th grade class. They both wore powerful glasses that made their eyes look like huge eerie glass planets.

Anything set them off. They screached like cornered cats and ran to each other. His belt whipped out and he swung the buckle at anyone that approached the two of them. On the second day of total chaos in the classroom, the uniformed police came and took them out. We never saw them again.

The rest of us quietly settled in and were very compliant for the rest of the year. Needless to say my early years close friends were few. Freddy, my daring railroad track friend, was an exception due our shared love for excitement. His tough dad was the section foreman. Friends seemed more interested after they discovered the creativity of my quest for adventure. :>)

Now math was different. Could not comprehend math. Dad was apparently not into math. Never mentioned numbers other than to have me print them in the little books. I quickly grew to despise math. My newly singled mother paid a tutor (Mrs Turner) for one summer, to cram into me enough basic understanding of math, that I was able to finish through K-12 on schedule, thank you Mrs Turner.

Being near sighted, I could not read the white chalk numbers on the large and thick black slate board hung on the wall. Yellow chalk on green boards came after WWII, couldn't see them either. Erasers to wipe off the board after each problem or sentence was diagramed, were felt blocks that needed periodic cleaning by taking outside to the brick school wall for 'banging' and 'claping'.

To make atonement for my attitude and less than steller performance in math, I often had to remain after school to write apology after apology, along with the 'times tables' on the blackboard. I became the defacto eraser cleaner, board washer and teacher's pencil sharpener.

The boys enjoyed watching 'certain' girls sharpen their pencils in the sharpener at the front of the room. Something about the way they wiggled and swished their hips as they turned the little crank. ;>)

The red brick rural country school was being enlarged after WWII, as troops returned and the baby boom began with their 'enthusiasm'. Living close by this country school, it became a late after school adventure land (after the adults left). Crawling through the foundation and utility trenches simulated the War years of soldiers we had seen in parades and films.

Many episodes of 'trench warfare' were fought within the school's new building addition. Warfare commenced well before dusk as visibilty aided the well sighted and athletic. Serious battles, complete with thrown dirt clumps, rocks and chunks of 2x4 as grenades, proved who were the toughest. Injurys were painful, bloody but survivable.

My Red Ryder Daisy air rifle got me through victorious in the afternoon campaigns of trench battles against other kids. Shot a chip out of the front tooth of a well armed (BB guns) friend and his brother (Dick and Eddy) as they co-ordinated to attack and over run my position. His dad, a high ranking detective in the city, was not pleased..... "Coulda shot his eye out"...

A nearby pile of short cut lumber across the barbed wire fence in the pasture, was our 'Mt Suribachi'. 'King of the Mountain' became predictably bloody when we flung chunks of cut boards down onto each other, as we repeatedly attacked the stronger older kids. Alarmed at the rapidly growing casualty list in the infirmary back at the school house, the teachers rushed out and demanded an immediate end to the lunch recess hostilities.

The long row of thorned Osage trees behind the farm were strung with giant vines. Tarzan's Call was re-enacted endlessly, as we swung from tree to tree. During another distant exploration while swinging my BSA hatchet at a branch, after climbing high in a tree, risk resulted in a long free fall that knocked me out. Apparently I was out for a long time, as friends went to tell my grandparents I had died. As my early lifestyle mentor Mark Twain

reportedly told after an errant news release, "My demise was greatly exagerated".

Osage Oranges (hedge apples)

were large and bumpy green. After striking a few things, they oozed a white latex milk that progressively became stickier and collected dirt. Within minutes we were covered in this progressively black coating.

We acted and looked like Celtic Warriors throwing them at each other. A well placed head shot from one of those heavy green balls disabled to say the least, the opposing tribe's best 'arm men'. As on 'Mt Suribachi' the girls wisely would have no part in this violent Warfare and stood well out of range. Winter was sledding, ice skating and endless snowball fights with freezing walks home, dragging the sleds in the dark.

School days were wasted dreaming of things that we would do 'After' school. We had our exciting spring flood Voyage in The Little Boats

from the abandoned little amusement park, to occupy our hours and days after school.

Barns to be explored and rafters in high lofts to be climbed. Pigeons and Owls to be captured and raised. Rat Killin' with the Marlin .22 after dark was Prime Time. The old Buckboard kept us busy. Converted to our Covered Wagon to head West, it was awash in imagination.

We all kept our minds busy, and physical prowess was manadatory for survival, especially when testing a little drogue chute by running off the peak of the barn (another slight concussion). My friends Buddy and Ned were absent from our 7th grade class for a period of time. They were returned after their adventure, driving to California...in Buddy's dad's new Mercury Monterey. They finally were stopped in a roadblock...in New Mexico 1,200 miles later. Dad was not happy to travel all of the way to NM to retrieve them... and his new car.

We all had to be productive and farm work was one of the ways kids earned their way. Picking apples, cherries, De-tassling Corn, cultivating (and chopping weeds between rows) Plowing, harvesting, summer mowing. All while maintaining the machinery that kept the profit motive in gear. Haying with our crew was always an involved, 'hot loft' process with long days of hard labor.

Progress toward social acceptance in later school years came in the life we lived as reality and described in the movie American Grafitti

Prowling around evenings was exciting in my first Chev, Ford, Merc 'Rats' then Olds, later on rare occasions in the new family car. Mom's black 2 dr 56 Chev 210 stick with power pack (quad carb and 'pipes'), was Bob 'Falfa'ish. It was unbeatable ;>)

While Climbing poles as a lineman with the tel co, I learned responsibility. After a motorcycle accident busted a knee, then machinist, truck driver and Air Force time, I began working my career 'real' job on the automatic mechanical cash registers, banking, accounting machines, automatics and eventually computers.

Only then did Math finally click into my brain. I figured out the way computers and code machines did math, with columnar transfers, hexadecimal and binary code bits and bytes. With the result of working with math every day, I became a late bloomer in Math.... Too late.. :>P Raised a great and prosperous little family, but only due to the dilligence of a great wife. Several fun grandkids are all successful little smarties themselves.

Now as 'Blogengeezer' involved with amateur literature, a little geography and some history instantly available at the keyboard, I just try to type too fast and transpose letters like crazy. Spelling is faltering as well. Have to proof read everything, or it looks like a Russian Cyrillic code.... these 'mature' fingers don't respond in correct timing to the firing neurons.

Fortunately during my last year in High School, I became enamored with one tall young teacher, and excitedly registered for Her typing class as an elective. She was Soooo hot. A shapely tall leggy Redhead. When she 'runway walked' over to my desk in her clicking heels to assist in correcting my 'technique', her tight skirt was eye level. Makes me a little Glitchy just thinking about Miss Schiedker....

I never used the rusty old typing skill until only a few years ago, when my sister gave me a new computer. I had used my intelligent Mother's computer only on occasion and inherited her daily pastime after she passed away..... at 92. The old skills came crawling back out of the darkest recesses of my brain. First thing I did was look up my HS typing teacher online. Found her married and retired... ;>) Sent her a Thank You, through her graduate university re-union notes.

Just one other small farm community story, from life in the greatest nation ever known, "The United States of America, One Nation Under God". With Liberty and Freedom for All..

WWII Years on the Farm

2011-07-10T00:08:00.001-07:00

The Kane family had the big farm at the north end of Diamond Lake dirt rd and the 'Ceement Road' as some neighbors called it :>). I spent lots of time around their big farm as a little kid. They had countless dozens of various colored farm cats and many dogs.

At milking time after driving the cows into the barn, Kane would milk the cows and squirt some warm milk into our mouths,.... and onto our faces, just like the gathering of dozens of hungry cats. The cats kept the rats and mice around the grainery under control. We always enjoyed the dozens of kittens.

The always plentiful Farm Dogs were many times barking at night to keep the railroad drifters and Hobos away from the barns, tool sheds and houses. We carried our twice weekly supply of milk from Kane's farm, in wire handled metal cans back to our nearby home. It was then placed in our wooden 'Ice Box' which was restocked at intervals by the 'Ice Man'. He was big, walked with a limp while wearing a stained leather apron over his shoulders. Chipped off a small piece and gave it to me as a treat on a hot summer day.

We chased lots of mice and climbed around in all the barns. Barn Owls did their field work eliminating crop eating vermin at night. 'Rat Killin' was really exciting. Mom's 22 Marlin did its 'reach out and touch' work. As kids we drove the tractors during the big fall harvests. The older men loaded the cut grain onto the horse drawn wagons using pitch forks. Each fall they set up the big threshing machine, way out in the field across the dirt road from our place. Corn and grain was often bundled in 'shoks' like Indian Tepees across the fields. Ever read stories of 'Indian Summer'? Pheasants hid in them during the cold nights.

That big loud scary tractor with iron cleated wheels was last seen at the 'red wing blackbird pond' a mile from our small family farm. It ran the long flat canvas belt with a twist, to the threshing machine, so as to keep it's sparks and flames clear of highly combustible chaff and hay. The kids all drove along with the few working tractors and mostly horses, while the older men forked the wheat or oats onto the iron wheeled or rubber tired hay 'racks'.

Most of the racks were horse drawn and needed no drivers, the horses were smart. They followed the old men as they pitched the hay. The teamed horses automatically stopped to allow their racks to be loaded. After threshing, the yellow straw was piled near the stationary threshing machine waiting for transportation to the baler. Self propelled and towed threshers (combines) were not used during those times. Even the sickle bar mowing machines were horse drawn.

We were sternly taught to stay clear of those dangerous sickle bars. Many careless farmers lost fingers or toes to that 'shaking' series of razor sharp 'sharks teeth'. Farm dogs were routinely left with three legs after an encounter.

Cats never even had a chance. We ran behind the bar and grabbed field mice or baby bunnies still in their fur lined dens. Later after the war, the baling machines operated with crews of dirty older kids riding the low side seats.

They kept lively, inserting the wire frames between pounding bales. That always dirty action, provided us with dirt goggled entertainment. Then later still, operating the tractor towed automatics, with jobs 'putting up' hay, kept us employed, tired and out of trouble.

The big stationary threshing machines from the 1930's were used during the war years of the 1940's. They seperated the grain from the hay, while blowing out the chaff. We kids drove the tractors and horses pulling the racks to the barn, where more men fastened the big hay hooks onto the load.

We pulled it with horses, long rope and pulley, up into the open loft doorway. From the peak trolley, the load was hauled back into the deepest reaches of the loft. Hot sweaty older men or the bigger kids, then stacked the bales or whatever was being 'put up' for the winter.

We drank lots of water from the stock tank while the windmill pulling the long sucker rod in repeated strokes kept it filled. Usually a metal dipper or cup hung close to the fill pipe. When in the fields, a big metal milk can was our water tank.

Great fun, exiciting for the young kids. Hard sweaty work for the older men. It was during the World War II years and the young strong men of draft age were all away fighting in the war. We didn't get to drive the big grain trucks. Usually adults or the bigger kids drove them because the heavy duty clutch was hard to push down and no power steering, automatic transmissions or power brakes existed back then.

Mr Prince previously owned the back farm that became Towners Subdivision. The big community owned tractor from the 1920's was used on the threshing machine. They moved the entire crew to his farm afterward. Farmer Prince always used horses in his fields. I rode with him on some of the horse drawn equipment.

Gas rationing, along with everything else, was solidly in place during the war so few tractors were ever used. Big chain drive electric trucks and streetcars were only used in the city near the coal fired power generating stations. We were a fortunate family and had one light bulb dangling from the ceiling in our kitchen.

'Red Heart' coal heated my Grandparents house. A small kerosene stove was our house heat and cooking. My loft bed let me hear the moan of the steam trains as they puffed and pulled their freight, clikking the rails through the night. I often walked the rails during the days, returning home on the 'glistening steel' after dark.

Aside from his other jobs as 'black gang' shoveling coal at the power station in the city, Dad was a commissioned, armed Game Warden, so we ate lots of Pheasants and Rabbits. Draft horses were fun for kids. Had to be carefull not to get stepped on while feeding their big muzzles handfulls of grass. The Percherons and later Clydesdales had monsterous hooves.

Prince farm was the site of an old cemetary. I remember seeing the hundreds of very old gravestones before the Towners removed them. Most were in the grove of Osage trees where some families later after the war, built their homes. The long Osage tree covered lane with their long vines extending from the trees, led to hwy 59-A, where the old horse drawn hearses brought in the funeral processions. They drove their horses back into the cemetary under the archway of large trees that comprised the gate and entraceway.

Before the settlers of the 1800's, it was an Indian burial ground. Grandparent's first hand dug, brick lined water well with a hand pump, was found to contain lots of really bad bacteria and virus contaminants leached downstream from the cemetary and cow pasture. I played with, and always tried riding the cows in pastures where houses and communities stand today.

After being told the brick well was contaminated, we had to travel to the community well, and pump the big handle for water to fill the big bottles within wooden frames. Our yellow bathing water was collected in cisterns from rain gutters on the houses. Only after the war were we able to drill a deep well and own an electric pump. Before that, the old outhouse surrounded with hollyhocks was used more often.

During the war, an Army camp was set up in the old cemetary to protect an Anti-aircraft battery. I often prowled the camp at night. They often caught me. Two rifle carrying guard soldiers would pick me up between them and carry me to the fence, put me back on our side, and order me not to do that stuff, or I would be shot. Didn't want to be shot, thought it might hurt, so was even more stealthy and crawled low while night prowling. :>)

During the World War II years, the sky overhead was many times darkened by an 'overcast of aluminum'. Countless hundreds of aircraft in each formation passed overhead from manufacturing plants across the industrial midwest. These huge formations of all types of aircraft, kept coming in waves from horizon to horizon for what seemed like hours.

The drone of the big radial multi-engined bombers was my alert to run down from my loft bedroom and watch the show. Endless formations of aircraft as the war progressed in our favor. At night the powerful searchlights and beacons from the airfields swept through the mist with a beam that was somehow comforting to me.

Across the fields were scattered large wooden white and red slatted pyramid pylons that the young pilots from Great Lakes Naval Training Center used in navigation training. My young girl cousins climbed atop the pylons with me to wave at the young pilots.

Closer and closer they deafeningly roared, untill we could easily see the expressions on their young faces. Their powerful engines moaned defiantly while spinning the big props as they swept past within yards of us. The leggy and pretty girl cousins were wearing shorts. I would guess that encouraged the pilots somewhat. No one crashed, we all survived the periods of excitement, which were to be repeated often during those years.

My young uncle was 16 when he listened to the big Zenith Shortwave radio while we all sat on the floor around it. The announcer grimly told of Pearl Harbor being devastated. Young uncle quit school, joined the Navy and boarded the local train for War.

The little fringed flag with one star, hung in my Grandmothers window all of the years he was away aboard ship at war. His little handmade model Navy plane sat high on Grandmother's shelf. She often took it down and slowly wiped away the dust in silence. Prayor was our only key to survival.

Serving in the Pacific theater during all of the fiercest island battles with his landing craft suffering hits, he survived the war a grown man, to return home, marry his high school girlfriend, build his home and raise his own family.

We all grew our own food in large gardens then 'canned' it in Mason Jars to supplement the couponed rationing of 'everything'. The basement pantry shelves were stocked. Our steer, two hogs and hundreds of chickens stored frozen in the town 'locker', fed us and others each year throughout the war years. After the war, all things became available again.

After the triple hit of the Great Depression, followed by a govt economic plan that held natural market factors in chains and a vast World War fought and won, 20 years of pent up prosperity and Freedom once again swept across the newly industrialized nation as our troops returned. Their triumphant grand parades all over America were a sight to remember.

Life was exciting in The United States of America, "One Nation Under God".
Back in 'the day'.. :>)

Frenchy

2011-07-02T20:40:00.000-07:00

As my active, friendly and always exceptionally generous 'Canadian French' grandfather from Quebec, told everyone that asked "How you doin' Frenchy?", following the removal of his gangrened right leg (Heavy lifelong smoker), He always replied to them, "Can't Kick" :>)

Grandfather was the private chauffer for Samuel Insull

Afterward he was employed as a transportation supervisor by Insull's marvelous commercial creation, The Commonwealth Edison Company.

While approaching the entranceway to maintain his own remote rural property on one rainy day, He had noticed a guy in trouble. He stopped the car, got out into the mud then pulled and unstuck the guy with one wooden 'Peg' leg, from the mud road. That unimproved county road passed in front of the land grandfather used for growing fruit trees.

He then offered the new tool house with bunk, as a sheltered place to spend the night. Quickly my generous grandfather took it upon himself to rescue the disabled man. He brought the guy food every weekend, fixed up the comfortable insulated tool house with a stove, icebox and sink, then payed the Peg leg to provide security watch over the hundreds of trees, berry bushes, grape vines and flowers, as the rural land was remote from the city.

One day grandfather was working on the front acreage when a truck from the city pulled up to.... "Buy some More trees"?.

The Peg leg had been selling grandfather's Trees, in order to buy himself some 'Lightnin' (moonshine).

Grandfather proceeded to kick (Frenchmen do that proficiently) the Peg leg's a$$ all of the way down the long driveway back onto the road where he found him..

Common Sense Grandfather wasn't ever trained in Politically Correct... 'Sensitivity' :>)

Growing up in Minnesota

2011-06-20T10:45:00.000-07:00

Too funny!
Don't know who wrote this, but he has a way with words that makes one visualize being right there beside him. Good read

"Life as a kid growing up in Minnesota"

Around age 10, my dad got me one of those little badass compound bow beginner kits. Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in anything that could get stuck by an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40-horse Farmall tractor tire will take 6 rounds before it goes down?

They are Tough.

That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas, tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over the place.

One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I looked over under the carport and see a shiny brand new can of starting fluid (Ether). The light bulb went off in my head.

I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a disappointing manner. Lets face it, to a 10 yr old mouth-breather like myself, Ether really doesn't "sound" flammable (more like sleepy).

So, I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of Pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles).

At this point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the can of black powder. My intentions were to sprinkle a little bit around the Ether can but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie, a 1 lb. Pyrodex and 16 oz of Ether should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker you know?

You know what? I'm going back in the house for the other can.

Yes, I got a second can of Pyrodex and dumped it too. Now we're cookin'.

I stepped back about 15 ft and lit the '2 stroke soaked' arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim. As I released I heard a clunk as the arrow launched from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting out of the truck... OH SHOOT! He just got home from work. So help me God, it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can.

My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTH look in his eyes. I turned back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom. Right through the main pile of Pyrodex and into the Ether can. Oh shoot!

When the shock wave hit, it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back, or just reflex jerk back from 235 decibels of sound. I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion, and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft above the ground as far as I could see. It was like a little low to the ground, layer of dust fog, full of grasshoppers, spiders, and a worm or two.

The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this... THE DAYLIGHT ACTUALLY TURNED PURPLE...

There was a big sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was". That tree got up and ran off.

So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my 'Thundercats' T-Shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback: ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DAMN IT, CEASE FIRE!!!!!

His hat has blown off and is 30 ft behind him in the driveway. All windows on the north side of the house are blown out, and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 ft. over our backyard. There is a Honda 185 3 wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped down and are now touching the tires.

I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know - I know I said something. I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter. I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out, woke later....repeat this process for an hour or so and you get the idea. I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR. and Dad screaming, "Bring him back to life so I can kill him again". Thanks Mom.

One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again, Mom had been complaining about that old thing for years and dad had never removed it. I stepped up to the plate and handled business.

Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. I still have some sort of bone growth abnormality, either from the blast or the beating, or both.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into Archery. It's good discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life.

Author Unknown

Ruidoso New Mexico RV Camp trip

2011-06-12T17:33:00.000-07:00

After prepping the Whistling Thunder Pig with a few provisions and tying the Jeep on the back, we set out to remove ourselves from the Albuquerque NM haze of the Arizona 'Wallow' Fire. The southern Arizona 'Horshoe' fire is also wafting smoke eastward across NM.

Afternote:
The coming Jemez Springs and Concha Fires near the Los Alamos National Labs area, is reportedly following the nearby path of destruction of Los Alamos in it's last great fire. Well over 150,000 acres have been engulfed in flames as noted to date.

Interesting that the US Forest Service over the last 60 years or so of enlightened environmental wisdom, has been adapting a view of.... 'No Logging, No lease Grazing of Cattle'.... which had previously maintained the forest profitably and safely for a century. (centuries if the Spanish are included).

Any Profitable enterprise possibly uililizng the forest resources is No longer easily permitted in National Forests. A quite noble gesture Dictated by the obviously powerful environmentalists and followed to the letter by 'their' drones, the 'new' US Forest Service.

We now have created an unnatural, ourageously dense fuel load with no open and log road accessable areas to form a maintainable fire break. Like Yellowstone Nat Park's devastation years ago, This govt follows the exact same paths to destruction.

The predictable results are inevitable as well as bank breaking financially. Thousands of fire fighters, as well as countless aircraft, slurry bombers, and support base camps with in town lodging, are copiously fed by taxpayer dollars.

So.. as once loudly proclaimed by yet another Leftist faction of society bent on seeing the destruction of America, the new US Forest Service now dutifully follows 'their' Secretary of the Interior ordered agenda of.....
... 'Burn Baby Burn'.

The new US govt is now reportedly setting up college courses on, get this, 'Managing and Fighting... Forest Fires'. This new govt visualizes a positive, in ever more taxpayer funded govt workers... dependent on ever more fires.... (possibly controlled vote Unionized??)

This is the reason for our travels. We are desperate to see the last conservative vestiges of our Great Nation, while escaping from the new world and it's omnipresent Insanity.
______________________

Finishing our Carl's Jr turkey burgers, and top off of Jeep fuel at local Smith's (discounted), we headed up I-40 through Tjeras canyon east out of ABQ. Moriarty NM over 20 miles (32km) away, is the southern turn off toward Ruidoso NM if taking the eastern route south around the Manzano Mountains. A few miles south of Moriarty is Estancia, the Correctional Facility town.

Because political figures drive on them, the state highways are nicely maintained.... until that point. After that they become paved and patched washboards for 100 miles (160km) at a stretch, due to the previous Gov Bill Richardson Administration spending the tax money on political Democrat corruption. Good thing they kept some funds in the prison system, a few of Bill Richardson's closest confidantes and political appointees, due to the FBI's vigilance, are still incarcerated there. Bill (ran for President in '08) himself, is coated with current Presidential Teflon..

As we drive south across the desolation of the high plains, we pass through tiny old Willard with it's main attraction, The 'Willard Canteena' touting it's 'Chile with an Attitude'. Motorcyclists parked in front seem to enjoy that stuff...and the beer of course. ..

..Turn south at the Canteena and cross the double main line railroad tracks. Lots of interstate freight moving at any one time. Moving East that is. Maersk containers (China) are always 'importing' to the USA through the California ports. Seldom see any actual US product exported, or ever heading west.

Further down the washboard state highway is ghost town Cedarvale with it's long abandoned school. It was quite modern when I first saw it being left to decomposition about 50 years ago. Too bad that weather patterns change. No longer is the land able to support dry land farming like in the past.

Cedarvale is in the vicinity of the stretch of Cedars across the somewhat higher terrain. This stretch is the route of migrating Deer... and occasional African Oryx wandering north from White Sands Missile Range. Rolling down this lightly traveled state highway, you do see the occasional, but rare 18 wheeler. Upon approach to Corona NM are the more heavily wooded hills and rocky canyons, where the Golden Eagles migrate along at certain times of the years.

Corona is the place to buy loads of firewood for the winter. The old 'Blue Ribbon Bar' got it's name and sign from Pabst bottling company. The bar owner from those days, told me that Pabst gave him the fancy lighted sign...and a hundred cases of beer, to change the name from the Corona bar. Sign is now gone and bar looks abandoned.

Corona was where the young rancher Mack Brazil came to report the Flying Saucer

that had crashed on his remote ranch. Roswell got all of the credit though, because the Airforce base located there was assigned to investigate.

More washboard highway and a series of ten to twelve 100 yard (91m) washboard patches. Guess the state road crews out of Corona are amatures in paving? Approaching distant Carrizozo on the long downslope leading down into the Tularosa Basin, shows what western panorama looks like. They even have a somewhat barren golf course.

The crossing highway is also The Valley of The Fires

route west.
On another trip, Interesting to sometimes take the alternate route westward back to Albuquerque, just seeing the rolling Malpais (volcanic flows from the last relatively recent eruptions ten to fifeteen hundreds of years ago). New Mexico is very geologically active.

If you do cross the interesting Malpaise desolation (there is a campground), stop in at the little bar at the west end of the highway in San Antonio (boyhood home of 'Conrad Hilton') across from the Owl. Their hamburgers are much better than at the Owl, since the Owl's owner was murdered by migrating Mexican 'Illegals' he was helping, many years ago.

The Valley of the Fires (northern edge of the White Sands Missile Range) highway comes out onto I-25 (NS from El Paso to ABQ.) It is a short drive north to Socorro (where the US Lunar Lander once mistakenly settled in for a few minutes back in 1964)

and back north to ABQ from there.

At Carrizozo we now turn east a short distance to our Nogal turn then south on the shortcut bypassing Capitan. It's steep two mile climb over the pass is somewhat time consuming in first gear. Following traffic loves us. From there it is lots of downhill first gear and uphill first and second gear all of the way around the eastern flank of (White Mountain) Sierra Blanca into Ruidoso, an hour away.

The little mountain town of Ruidoso is always changing somewhat, but in ways still recognizeable like an old friend.
Our favorite 'Twin Spruce' RV Park

was open and nightly fee approx $35 US for full hookups, was acceptable. The pool was open (grandkids enjoyed it on a couple of trips years back when they were young) Breakfast on weekends and a few evening meals are offered for a low fee. The gathering shelter even holds a little church service on Sunday.

Kay recognised us, remembered the grandkids and had a selection of nice sites. I picked a nice level pull-through under a tree near the office, rather than the high scenic mountainside pads. They also own a home in Florida that was roughed up a bit in their last big hurricane a few years ago.

Kay mentioned the latest Ruidoso Flood of 2008 that washed out a lot of homes and RV's near the river. The old concrete rock bridge in town was destroyed, and is just now being replaced with a steel span.

Kay mentioned the April forest fire

that burned about a 20 mile swath of mountain on the north side of Ruidoso. It supposedly only caught one horse, which was fortunate as the racetrack (All American Futurity, Ruidoso Downs)

was threatened enough to herd all of the animals across the road into the Super Walmart lot on the hill.

Late breaking news KRQE:

reports the 16 Jun 2011 fire behind the Walmart contained. 8 homes were destroyed. This is close to Twin Spruce RV Park. Poor Kay, if I know her, she was plenty worried..

Afternote: The Donaldson ranch Fire is running near Hondo NM. Yep 'The' Sam Donaldson of TV news fame.

The flood in '08 also swamped the racetrack, but it was back in business within another few weeks. This last winter was record breaking 'Freeze' time. The pipes broke all over town, lowering water pressure for weeks as they thawed. Kay referred to the misfortunes as the three 'F's.

Our first day was spent touring around the old neighborhood where the internet famous Cougar was killed two weeks ago. It would not stay away from one home's yard, it had killed a Deer and buried it there under a pile of pine needles and dirt. Years ago we often visited my mother and father in law, on special family occasions at their mountain home near that site.

Winter skiing is excellent and sunny at Ski Apache (formerly Sierra Blanca Ski area. A little drive up over the ridge into the area of the newer Sierra Blanca Airport (old one is now a golf course) and the Spencer Theater of the Performing Arts took most of the morning. ...mention: Mountain Annie's in town is also a theater, hopefully a dinner theater in the near future..

Nice new homes intertwined with golf courses are plentiful as far as the horizon up on top the surrounding ridges and into the valleys. Ruidoso is a haven for flat land Texans that like to bet on the ponies. Nearby is the Inn of the Mountain Gods Casino, that also likes their money. The other days we spent checking out the local antique shops and thrift stores. Touristy stuff is plentiful in Ruidoso, Kids love the adventures, even a little water park.

Breakfast at the shiny metal diner, Denny's was great, Jeff our excellent waiter, took extra cares to ensure our satisfaction. He enjoys flying and also works at K Bob's evenings. To actually live in Ruidoso you have to hustle to survive.

'Ole Taco' is a great little tiny drive-up and dine-in Mexican Food cafe on Sudderth next to the Kentucky Fried Chicken. Don't miss their great prices and good enchiladas with other selections, while visiting Ruidoso.

The rest of our time was just casually driving around and seeing the changes taking place along the main drag to 'The Downs'. New hotels and restaurants are starting to line the street. My generous boss from years ago, often treated all of his employees to an enjoyable weeekend retreat in Ruidoso.

Boom or Bust is the economy around this mountain town, always steady in that respect. :>) Mescalero Apache Inn of the Mountain Gods is not immune to the cycle and some of the original structure shows it. Their lake is low this time of year, but still beautiful. Lots of kayaks and rafts with peddle-boats, kept all of the kids happy on it's deep blue surface.

Scenic Cloudcroft is just up the highway a bit. Check out the photogenic old rail trestle seen in many movies, which is being restored, then stop in the lodge with the green eyed ghost Rebecca. She was killed by a jealous suitor. Continue on to Alamagordo and White Sands for a complete postcard tour. Internationally famous Carlsbad Caverns is just another tour stop away.. enjoy the entire loop.

Each evening I prowled the hillsides and trails around the Twin Spruce RV park for exercise and relaxation. When the grandkids were young, we hiked to the top of the RV park roads, all of the way to the water tank on The DEAD End. Grandkids liked that spooky annotation during our evening hikes.

One evening several people were standing and watching something go up the hill across the road. A large Black Bear had wandered into and through our RV park on it's nightly tour of the 'fast-food' circuit. Bears and Cougars happen by often in these mountains just to keep the tourists alert. The Lincoln National Forest is where national icon, 'Smoky The Bear' was found after a fire many years ago near Capitan.

Lincoln (named after Abraham Lincoln) 'County' was the largest in the USA back in the 1800's. No wonder it developed it's reputation of 'The Lincoln County Range Wars. 'Billy the Kid' was noteworthy of the time and had a laundry in the town of Lincoln.

A small vistor center near 'The Downs' has some stories pertaining to his exploits. The friendly lady managing the desk was helpfull with area info and several illustrated books including some hitherto unknown pictures of 'Billy'.. The original Tintype is selling at auction for around $500,000 according to guestimates.

Afternote:
'Billy the Kid' Tintype sold at auction for over 2 million dollars US. Too bad he didn't ever get to enjoy his wealth. Whacking the Sheriff and deputy were his main public relations issues. The others were greatly exagerated and trumped up by politics. You would also get angry if the boss that treated you well, was killed in a politically Greed motivated battle.

The last night in the Twin Spruce RV park was spent surfing their nearly 100 cable channels for a good 'flikker' to watch. Kay's computer in the office was free, as is the WIFI. Morning came quick and I was busy dumping the holding tanks while prepping the coach for travel. Thoughtful Co-pilot gathers all of our 'offloads' into plastic bags for ease in packing to the house when we get home. Tying the Jeep behind us, like a tail, we pulled out for home.

We left Ruidoso this Sunday morning just after 11 of the clock. Arrived home at just after 3 of the clock (two hundred miles). No stopping, just a slow crawl out of the Ruidoso mountain canyon where we camped at Twin Spruce RV Park. We slowly clawed our way up over the Nogal Pass back to Carrizozo, about an hour of lower gears with Whistling Thunder Pig wagging it's Jeep tail.

The fire haze in the distance was barely noticible as we drove back across our return route. This time the wind was actually helping us along. Good thing for fuel economy. We made it to Ruidoso and back on approxiximately 60 gallons. At avg $3.57 a gal, it was a fun trip.
A Carl's Jr Turkey burger was our late lunch with a fuel re-fill at Smith's nearby. No discount this time..

The smoke from the Arizona fires is just starting it's late afternoon light accumulation in ABQ. Nowhere as bad as the 'crisis' media portends every day on their 'news'. Even their 'unprecented'? heat wave as they are constantly raving about, is like in years past. Nothing new, but the crisis 'news' is sure trying to build something out of a molehill.... Hmmmm Wonder why.?

The Lincoln National Forest is dry like usual in early summer, and Closed until the 'monsoon' (gulf moisture) rains start in July or August. For some reason there are always some campers (?) that will not obey the Rangers. They light fires that they don't extinguish.. Sooo the entire forest is closed to the sensible campers as well. That is life isn't it... The majority pays dearly for the predictable folly of the minority foolish...

Story from the past:
One time we were walking through a forest campground where a large hispanic family and their friends (the usual way they socialize), were drinking beer (Cerveza) around a big fire on the ground (illegal). The pickup trucks and cars were late model. They were playing their loud radios and whooping it up to their Mexican music. The barefoot kids were happily dancing through the smoke, roasting hotdogs and marshmallows over the fire...

....of a Gasolene soaked, fiercely Burning TIRE... still on it's wheel.

The acrid black smoke was making the entire campground downright toxic. The white marshmallows became coal black instantly from the thick black soot smoke deposited on them. The kids happily ate the blackened 'Carcinogenic' puffballs...... and kept 'roasting' more of them. Their hotdogs immediately looked like sooty black greasy pieces of rubber hose. Of course they were being eaten just as fast. The Gene Pool in this family could possibly be draining?

We stopped and talked with the very nice regular park host ranger (also hispanic). She told us that the group was very loud, disorderly and foolish, but she could not get them to stop.... or even pay to enter the campground. She said 'stuff' like that happens all of the time in her section of the forest, nothing new. She tries to tell them to behave intelligently, but as she said to us quote:
"They all Throw Me, with beer bottles"... :>)

Cycles of Life in the Greatest Nation the world has ever seen, The United States of America, "One Nation Under God"

Flying with a BANSHEE

2011-06-04T19:37:00.000-07:00

As a single young man with USAF in my past, I thought that maybe a hot date would come out of a nice Saturday morning flight back in 1967. I called 'Brother Burke'.. He was a young preacher and US Air Force noncom officer friend. Our other friend was USAF Sergeant 'Larry'. We three often enjoyed going up on the weekends... if we could scrounge enough money. I was flush with cash that weekend, so we rented a low winger with four seats.. and a larger engine.. Brand spanking new, still had the thin plastic film on the seats. We were impressed.

We four all excitedly piled into this brand new plane, Burke at the controls, with Larry in right seat. Myself and the newly found potential girlfriend in back. 'She was sitting behind pilot Burke'. I was behind Larry (this is important, as you will read later).

Beautiful cool morning in NM with light breeze, perfect visual flying conditions. In light traffic, clearance from tower, we happily taxied to position and lifted off after a short roll. We banked and headed up around northwest of the 10,500 ft (3,200m) Sandia Mountain Crest, still towering over us. Following the Rio Grande (river) north toward Santa Fe while gaining altitude, we anticipated a great day of flying like always. Flight plan was to also include a stopover with lunch in Santa Fe before cruising the always interesting mountains. With the larger engine, high altitude mountain flying with substantial airspeed is much more enjoyable.

Along the way of our sight seeing plan, Burke spotted the New Mexico state prison off to the south. It was still used as a state prison back then. The deadly Santa Fe Penitentiary Riot

was in the future. The daring Helicopter escape from the 'prison yard'

had not happened yet, so no flight restrictions were in place. Burke put us into a right wing low, circle to look into the prison yard. We were at substantial altitude, did one or two circles looking at the prison far below, then leveled off to head north for SF.

DISASTER:
Like an uncaged animal, that girl unbuckled and instantly climbed over top of Burke...our pilot. She twisted and unlatched the ceiling door handle, saying "I'm Getting out of here". The door was sucked up and the wind roar was incredible as it lifted from the airflow. Our charts were racing around in a tornado in that cockpit. With her full body weight and strength on top of him, Burke was pressured forward onto the yoke.... We were forced into a spiral dive..... and inverted.

Burke was hollering "Get her off me, Get her off". Larry grabbed her throat and started choking her. He had no leverage from the right seat. I just yanked her hair back and with full adrenalin clenched fist, started rapidly punching the right side of her head with all my force, until I knocked her senseless. Larry pushed her limp body back off Burke as we rapidly spiraled in toward the mesa.

I do recall the strange view from the inside of the cockpit. Like a wild inverted amusement park ride where you are seeing spinning earth upward through the plexiglass, brief glimpse of spinning horizon you can't focus on, and not any sky where it should normally be. Seat belt felt like it was tightening like a vice in the negative G's. Girl was pressed against the cabin ceiling, wedged above Burke..

Just barely in time, Burke expertly regained control from the inverted spin and pulled out.... with pucker bushes in close proximity to our wing tip. Using the incredibly heavy G's, I then used a choke hold and forced that girl down into the floor, locking her down with my entire body. Larry reached up, grabbed the handle as burke flared, and we began climbing back out of the hair raising Kamikazi dive. Larry got the door re-locked and now with a clean airflow at very low altitude, we turned back to ABQ.

In Dead silence.....

Once Larry and I got her off his back, and the young preacher 'Burke' somehow pulled us out of it, things calmed down in the cockpit. Burke told us later, he Never Ever did anything remotely like that recovery in all his hours of flying,... and never desired to try it again.

Gradually regaining all of that lost altitude, we followed the Rio Grande back south. That Banshee had finally recovered her composure, she said from the floor, "I'm feeling sick". I replied "deal with it, I'm Not letting you up". She said calmly from the floor, do you have a bag? Larry found the now crumpled chart at his feet and handed it to me. I formed it into a bag and clamped it down around her head. She then 'ralphed' until she was dry heaving. Larry fully opened the ventilation to release the fragrance.

Silence.... Burke and Larry noticed that wind had come up over ABQ since we left there earlier. We watched as large hot air dust devils were forming on the south mesa somewhat near the airport far below us. Burke got tower instructions to come in from the east due to the now warm, prevailing west wind shift, so we circled out over the Manzano mountains and in through the east mountain Tjeras canyon for descent.

As we were on final, the canyon buffeting got pretty rough. I had by then, reseated her and refastened tightly, the Banshee's seat belt and covered the lock with my gripped hand. We were about one hundred feet above the pavement, on straight and level approach, with required throttle for conditions..... Out of nowhere, with no warning we were caught in an invisible whirlwind over the paved runway. A big one...

It hit the right wing from below, fast and without warning, standing us right wing up. Burke instantly gave full right aleron to level out and the tornado pressure reversed as we flew through the center of it. The right wing immediately went straight down in a cartwheel position toward the runway as Burke the preacher said loudly... 'SHIT'. He immediately corrected us flat again and we pancaked tricycle onto the runway with a loud 'Scrunch' that instantly put our chins on our chests.

Rollout was smooth and we hurried back to the tie down before another whirlwind got us, turned in that now thouroughly tested new plane with it's newly adjusted door, and some definetly loosened gear suspension and wing fittings. I never dated that Banshee

again, but found out later that I worked with her brother. An experienced cross country ferry pilot...... He told me that his sister had always been hesitant of planes and had never flown before in her life. I told him she will probably never ever fly again, but if she does, watch her like a hawk. It's one thing to act suicidal, but others may not feel like participating at that time thank you.

Just one more Blogengeezer story from life in the USA. The greatest Nation the World has ever seen. "One Nation Under God"

Cataract Surgery, right eye

2011-05-22T19:22:00.000-07:00

Southwest Eyecare of Albuquerque New Mexico USA, 7110 Wyoming Blvd NE, Alb NM 87109, tel# 505-346-0500 is wonderful. In February, I had the left eye cataract removed and a new implant inserted by eye specialist, Dr Paul Sanchez. view that February story here

Southwest Eyecare has a national record setting success rate of amazingly only 'one in ten thousand' procedures resulting in a complication. My vision is, even after the initial February operation, better than ever in my life.

This time the same procedure was done on my right eye. It was once again improved to even better vision. The miracle of vision is only further enhanced by the precision of modern surgery. The dedication of the numerous technicians and others involved, is remarkable in this healthcare field. From the very attractive receptionist that greeted me at the front desk, to the technician recording the final results, I would hope that it is equally well accomplished nationwide today.

The device I placed my chin on, and looked at the colorful little balloon on the highway in the lense, is interesting in itself. It is that, which measures the size, critical positioning and patterning of the new 'lensed' image to focus on the retina. The machine itself, a marvel of Intelligent Design and engineering, to also thank the qualified tech recording the results.

The technology and innovation behind the carefully measured, latest longevity enhanced 'swirl' type soft lens, 'ACRY Sof IQ', with it's little positioning arms (like a galaxy) inserted like a tiny rolled up scroll through a 1mm hole, is only matched by the skill of the Doctors doing the procedure.

Years ago a friend, and also my own mother were the victims of licensed, presumed professional, incompetence. The unfortunate victims in most botched surgeries of this type are elderly, so no value is perceived in the state regulatory and court system to control the less than talented doctors. Fortunately the doctors today, at least in my case, are dedicated and highly professional.

The little test admistered by Dr Sanchez on my first consultation, immediately determined my right eye was dominant for distance, the left for closer needs, as is common for right handed people. Makes perfect sense to me. When firing my weapon, Weaver Stance, I use my right eye to sight and right finger for trigger pull.

Dr Sanchez wisely inserted lenses to compliment the brain's learned routine, so as not to cause a conflict with lifetime patterns. Today I received a small note from the doctor informing any officers of the law, that I no longer need to wear my glasses while driving. A more formal letter will follow for the motor vehicle division of NM.

The surgery at the North satelite of Presbyterian hospital, AAESC went very well as in procedure before. The wonderful nurses and the other attendants payed close attention to my every response. The Anesthesiologist administered the interesting sedation. It is only effective on the eyesight for painless surgery and seemingly in my case, has no after effects. Fasting for twelve hours before surgery and a driver is required to get you home afterward for legal reasons.

I could hear every word spoken by Doctor Sanchez and followed his instructions to concentrate on the three small bright lights during the surgery. No body movement is allowed, even a position change of the feet is strictly prohibited. This morning, 24 hrs after the procedure, I was tested at Southwest Eye Care and showed good results. One week from now I return for another examination.

The eyedrop routine is to be followed to the letter. The night before the operation, one drop in the eye every hour to cleanse the eye of any bacteria that could cause an infection...the cause of most failures. After the surgery, one of each type (2) of drops in the eye every four hours, continued for one week.

The final inspection at end of month will determine the overall success for both procedures. What a great experience in comparison to my past observations of friends and family. I would highly recommend Southwest Eyecare in ABQ for anybody.. In my mother's case, the incompetent doctor from a another clinic, fled NM to practice her muddling (blinding) of eyes in the Pacific Northwest.

My latest one week examination determined that my eyesight is stabilizing and no sign of infection. The tightly adhered to, eyedrop routine is doing it's job. Three more weeks at scheduled, reduced dosage of eyedrops, and the final exam will determine the overall success.

Already the ability to read the monitor of the computer is remarkable...and brighter. No more blurry clouds to divert vision around. The same blurry clouds, were at times, dangerously hiding portions of cars on the highway. I should have had this latest procedure, which was highly recommended by a friend, done a couple of years ago. Driving would have been more relaxing and less distracting.

I have noticed that the modern wrap-around UV blocking sunglasses commonly used in youth oriented winter outdoor sports activities, are the best for eliminating side glare while providing for a natural vision radius of 180 degrees. My lifelong corrective eyeglasses always had side spots of hindered vison. The outstanding improvement is welcomed as an unexpected bonus.

Added note 06 Jun 2011:
Last exam today and passed with excellent results. Zach the tech did all tests using the fantastic equipment and recorded the results. Doctor Sanchez reviewed the data and inspected the eyes for any anomalies. All good to go. Next scheduled check up is in three months.

Doctor Sanchez told of his own eyesight problems as a youngster. He could not hit any targets with his rifle. Turned out that a shooting instructor determined he was Left eye dominant while being right handed. He had to always allow for vague windage that was distance variable.

Only 15% of people are like that. After that revolutionry discovery he learned to shoot his rifle Left handed with great shooting improvement. No wonder he uses the same test for his patients. His instructor had him hold out his hands at arms length with thumbs and forefingers touching, while centering a mounted Moose's nose in the spade shaped 'window'. We were lacking a Moose, so used the wall switch in his office. :>)

Thank the Profit Motivated (naive 'I'm being kind' educators and journalists refer to it as 'Greed'), medical profession and innovators of technology in this Freedom loving USA, The greatest Nation the world has ever seen.
"One Nation Under God". Pray that it does NOT Change.... National Socialism (NAtional ZI) does not have a pretty history.

New Mexico-Texas-Louisiana-Mississippi-Alabama-Georgia-Tennessee-Arkansas by RV

2011-04-29T20:44:00.001-07:00

Blogger suffered an attack and this post is a bit shaky. Pictures from trip are slowly being restored.

Loaded up the basic essentials into fully prepped Thunder Pig for a month long voyage. With Violent Career Repeat Offenders encouraged and funded by the US legal system to roam among law abing citizens, Weaponry and our 2nd amendment right, is a comfortable necessity (you sleep well), when traveling alone. Unless of course you and your loved ones enjoy being 'morally superior' unarmed Martyrs (Victims). Always remember:... "When seconds count, the Police are only minutes away"..

Fact: Gary and Linda Hass were slaughtered in their RV in August 2010

The July Arizona prison escapees got 'em. Gary and Linda stopped at an I-40 rest area in NM, where McCluskey and his friends got 'the drop' on them. Their charred remains were found in the ashes of their burned to the ground RV, just off I-40 near Santa Rosa NM. The 61 yr old childhood sweethearts were on their annual trip from Oklahoma to Colorado.

Remembering Gary and Linda, keeping 'Situational Awareness' in mind, we left ABQ NM on Friday afternoon at 2pm, later than planned... as usual. This trip through Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Tennessee, Arkansas and return to New Mexico, started by Taking the route east through the canyon on I-40, to Cline's Corners then turned off I-40 to the south and down toward Roswell NM.

No wind, fuel consumption low which is very good, not tired yet, so passed our sometimes campsite at Walmart..Sam's Club, and continued on through Roswell onto truck route, turning East toward Texas State line. Plains Texas

Population 1,500, looked inviting at dusk for a night parked in the High School parking lot. After a healthy :>) Dairy Queen (every small town of significance in Texas has a DQ) meal of chicken and steak fingers dipped in gravy, we settled in for the Friday (Saturday, no school) night. There is a city park located a few blocks south.

Morning after breakfast, rolling on to Brownfield and La Mesa, turn south through Big Spring Texas

(countless wind turbines for miles on end, solar farm to follow), where we usually spend a little time, sometimes the night camped at Walmart. :>)

Arrived at San Angelo Texas

late afternoon, fueled at Walmart north end of town for $3.61 per gal. Drove to Knickerbocker dr and turned onto Fisherman's rd (across from Mathis Field (San Angelo Regional air terminal... radar ball) following Fisherman's road into Spring Creek City Park. Registered for $12 at marina store, drove to camping spot in the Spring Creek city park at Lake Nasworthy, San Angelo Texas

In spite of the weekend with families camping, nice quiet evening in our regular spot on the southwest end near the channel.

Ducks and Turkey Vultures along with a few Squirrels to check out the shoreline, made it a pleasant stay. Have not seen the prowling Wild Hogs or turkeys of years past. The Alpacas are still on the opposite shore (some sheared), as well as the Donkeys that accompany them. No white peacocks for over three years.

After breakfast, rolling along the next morning toward our old favorite 'Ink's Lake', in the Texas State Parks system

Hopefully no problem getting a night during the Sunday to Thursday window. The Texas State Park reservation system has all sites taken during weekends, and after school is out for the summer. Even school 'breaks' fill this beautiful park with families.

Ink's Lake Texas State Park:

in the Texas Hill Country is no question one of our favorite places. Weekends, no reservation?..good luck. Try Buchanon Lake, Black Rock park

or Canyon of the Eagles

For a back-up, we frequently must revert to Walmart camping :>)

After seeing the large amount of usefull information available on a Texas State Park website, now check out a popular New Mexico State Park website

Notice anything? Did you see any easily accessed, worthwhile information you could use for directions? Fees? (NM defiantly just says YES) Facilities? Number and type of sites? Setting details? If you desire info on a NM State Park, Google search a blogger that has camped there. You will learn far more, especially if they post pictures. even You Tube?

New Mexico is a bottom feeder of states with intelligent bureaucrats (as well as voters). They obviously do not have internet site programing skills. They are more interested in touting 'diversity', and 'spirit of the anasazi', than serving (attracting) visitors. That is one major reason we RV camp and tour Texas in spite of NM's abundant 'Natural' beauty as noted in our previous NM camping travels

The excellent Texas State Park system works at every level to ensure the visitors a pleasant stay so they will return. NM just offers a few rough, primitive parks (by other state's standards), not well maintained or staffed. The people of NM know not of what is offered just across the state lines, so flock into the crowded sites available as happenstance.

Fortunately we aquired a site on this weekday, bought another Annual Texas State Park Pass, which waves entrance fees, plus includes big discounts on overnights which are approx $20. Colorado RV parks are in $40 to $50 range.. each night. Overhang trees caused a decision on a U turn and forced us to back the rig. No No with tow, but worked ...this time.. Co-pilot maneuvered into #48 with my hand signals. Motorhome nose about 30 feet overlooking the water (sporadic tpwd wifi :>).. Our fav is treesy site #43 (no wifi:<( where we can fish from the doorway, but alas it was occupied.

Water, fishing, squirrels, deer and Ducks are the attractions, as well as lots of Coots (sort of ducks). Geese, ducks and lots of basking turtles on the rocks and logs around Devil's Waterhole (pictured in link, accessible by hike or rental canoe). A large lighted fishing pier is handy. This is a Corps of Engineers manmade reservoir, as All lakes in Texas,. except for Caddo near the Louisiana State line (planned destination) which was naturally formed by an over 100 mile long flood log jam in the 1700's, and enhanced by the New Madrid Fault uplift in the 1800's.

The wind blew, raising whitecaps on Ink's Lake, so rental canoe was not an option this stay. Buchanon Lake is the upper in a chain of once flood prone rivers, now reservoirs protecting Downstream towns and cities. Inks Lake is the second below Buchanon's hydro-electric power plant. LBJ Lake feeds off of Ink's dam and spillway.

In past years timing, the birds were more plentiful, including the migratory 'Scizzortails' doing their aerobatic dance with each other. Fishing is always a free sport welcome to those holding a Texas State Park day pass.

We did a side trip with the Jeep into nearby Burnett checking out the antique'y malls and having a Chicken Express snack before leaving the area. There is a very nice H.E.B store

(One of 'the' greatest store chains in the USA) where provisions are reasonable. H.E.B's Cafe Ole

is one of the best tasting coffee blends...ever. I bought about 8 bags of 'Texas Pecan'. they often give away their Teas, or International Delight creamers with each 12 oz bag. Online orders available. After leaving Ink's, we motor homed along toward the east. A rust colored Cardinal flew into our nose near Palestine Texas. The MH won... :<(

Palestine Railroad Park:
No longer a Texas State Park, but nice as the Palistine Texas end of Texas State Railroad Park

. The restored railroad runs from Rusk to Palestine. The beautifully restored station with five steam locomotives, is located at this park. Special events feature smaller 5" ? scale 'Live Steam' locomotives in the grassy area near the 'water only' camping sites. These small handbuilt mechanical marvels are weighng at almost a thousand pounds, so a sloped loading ramp at truck bed level is mandatory to access the big looped track through the field.

Other end of the Texas State Railroad 25 miles away, Rusk

is the prison town named after our friend's historic family. Rusk took charge of the Mexican General Santa Ana, after the historic battle of 'San Jacinto', which followed the battle of the Alamo. The words 'Remember The Alamo' were notoriously yelled out as a much outnumbered army of Texans defeated the far more powerful Mexican army. Texas became a Republic after that battle. Thomas Jefferson Rusk signed the Texas Declaration of Independence. I venture to assume they are in no mood to return it.... no matter what Mexico says today.

We were the only occupants of this railroad themed RV park on Wednesday night. At $13 dropped in the honor box, it was a quiet evening. I hiked the trails around the pond and prowled the train station and facilities until after dark. Reminded me of my night prowling of the railroads as a little kid.

One steam engine is a real whopper over twice as large as the others, that weigh only 82 tons. A 2-10-4 LIMA at 224 tons, lords over the others though not used. Thomas the Train or Polar Express is the theme at times, for this system of meticulously restored railroad memorabilia. This is a 'must see' tourist destination for Steam Train fans

as the large parking facility clues. The pull-through sites are handy and water was nearby with a dump site at station end of loop.
Possible next trip, the companion Railroad park at Rusk

(other end of the Texas State Railroad line) looks good for overnight, has a small fishing lake and more amenities than Palestine park.

Next stop is Texas state park's
Martin Creek Lake State Park:

Thursday night stay on the lakeshore of a locally pit mined, soft coal power plant cooling reservoir. It is warmer in winter, so fish and wildlife really like it. BTW the power plant emits No visible emmissions. News media will never picture that one, unless of course it is putting off condensation steam in cold weather. In that case they will happily (and ignorantly as usual) portray it as bad stuff for the gullible masses.

This park features several cabins and lots of campsites including a somewhat primitive camping island with footbridge access. Fishing pier allows the Texas state park fee visitors to fish free along the shoreline (not from boats). I walked the interesting shoreline until after dusk. Low water levels exposed a floor of small mussels. Guess the warm water appeals to them also. Found a long lost pocket knife in the shallow water shoreline below the island walkway. Returned it to workable condition as is my nature. The long submerged cellphone accompanying it, was a waterlogged piece of technology not worth saving.

Countless dozens of circling vultures over the water, indicates thermals to carry the large birds high overhead. They love to fly like all birds. Soaring is their preferred sport. Feasting on a bloody road kill is second best.
Morning starts us moving ever Eastward, closer towards the Louisiana state line and Caddo Lake State Park

Living on the Bayou @ Backwater Jacks's RV Park :>)

We are now parked with the nose of the MH pointing at the fishing boat channel, Cypress River Bayou about 30ft away. Between us and a few other lonesome wanderers, we had the park to ourselves. One more just pulled in at dusk. I am on BACKWATER JACK'S sufficient wifi, having a cold Negra Modelo for relaxation and inspiration. The owner's daughter just brought our folded clothes from the dryer. What a nice place. They even have a rec room for rainy days.

Our planned Caddo Lake State Park in Texas

reported weekend RV sites filled and reserved a few months earlier, so they helpfully suggested we try nearby BACKWATER JACK'S

Good choice, no amenities like canoes, costs a little more at $25, but Level 'pull throughs', and has 30/50 amp, full hookups and wifi. A nice family owned RV park.

I hiked out the swampy acreage surrounding the park, also the dirt track along the side of the bayou one night. Spooky houses, some on tall pilings. Many abandoned, some occupied, but looked like they don't care for visitors. Interesting folks live around here. ....to say the least.

Many movies are made in the area, some dating back years. Wife said it looks just like the movie portrayals. Lots of cypress trees with their multi trunks standing like big feet in the water. This whole establishment was under four feet of water two years ago. It floods for about 8 months at a time every so often for various reasons, such as hurricanes and heavy rains. We are on the Texas Louisiana state line. Big hawks and their nemesis crows keep things interesting.

Hard for this family to run an RV park under water. Took them a long time to restore it. Fast boats of every description run the tea stained Cypress River in front of us. Fishing must be good, Backwater Jack's even has a launch ramp. Supposed to be gators in the water. Rare Spoonbill Paddlefish (cats) are seen here. Alligator Gar is fairly common, as well as Bass and everything else one can imagine. A day trip to nearby Jefferson was fun, even though it was Sunday and not fully open for business.

Historic Jefferson Texas

is famous as a port and rail terminal. Jay Gould, one of the famous developers of the USA (one of the Liberal news reported Robber Barons) proclaimed Jefferson would never grow without 'his' railroad meeting 'his' demands. In spite of his dire prediction, they did grow. So much growth that they now exhibit his fully restored personal rail car (It's really big) in front of the restored Historic Excelsior House Hotel

where he made his dire prediction..

Historic Jefferson which grew after The Louisiana Purchase

did suffer some setbacks, such as the destruction downstream of the 200 mile log jam dam on the Red River, begun by Steamboat Captain Henry Miller-Shreve (Shreveport). His goal was to open the Red River while shortening the 40 mile Oxbow of the Mississippi for steamboat navigation. Today Jefferson, with it's pleasant weather, is an Antique shopper's mecca during tourist season. Co-pilot bought an egg plate for Easter :>) Shreveport La. is our tomorrow destination.

Shreveport Louisiana

is actually quite nice if you enjoy cities.
As we approached the newly developed outskirts, stopped in at the 'Firehouse Sub's for a good sandwich created by nice young folks. They have been open for about seven years. Louisiana's highways are not all pleasant and smooth, as we discovered along the 100 mile causeway approaching Port Arthur Texas some years ago. This trip, we did not stop to visit/tour in Louisiana. It was only a quick stop along the way to Mississippi toward Alabama.

Passed a monster Mercedes Benz factory yesterday along side I-20 not far from Tuscaloosa. It is very modern, the size of a very large busy town, with it's main buildings spreading for over a mile in each direction. Partially hidden by the trees, it was only noted by the big circle with the distinctive Y in the middle. The southern states have taken over most all industry from the tax, restriction and regulation obsessed rust belt. Three car factories are located in Alabama including KIA, The southern states have not ever embraced 'closed shop' forced unionism like has killed, and is still strangling and stagnating, 'the rust belt' northern states.

Last trip we passed Toyota and Honda southern style factories in similar tree enveloped settings. Each surrounding area was extremely prosperous with shopping malls and beautiful homes. Shreveport Louisiana is sprawling. The newest area already has malls and restaurants.

Stark contrast to old Vicksburg Mississippi

The sadly deteriorating aspect of a historically significant city is noted in Vicksburg. The old mansions and victorian downtown are weathering away under the seemingly endless 'Reconstruction' punctuated by conflicts following the civil war. Note that the Union North held up Vicksburg as it's 'model' of reconstruction.

The union north 'gave' defeated, once prosperous Vicksburg to the repatriated and newly freed southern blacks after the battle. The entire city management was taken away from the business owners and residents. It was then turned over to the 20 thousand blacks including police officers and administrators.

With the heavily vacant downtown and surrounding hilly streets, now almost reminiscent of Detroit in smaller scale, I note a definite 'freeze' in history. In fairness, many downtowns are dead or dying in the USA for various reasons, political, taxation and economics related. Dependency acclimated Vicksburg is promoting itself as a 'Progressive' city, dsperately starved for 'development' (someone else's funding...lots of it).

The only real draw for us to Vicksburg is the outstanding Vicksburg National Military Park

and the partially restored Ironclad Cairo

That alone is well worth the visit. The drive through this beautiful park is over 16 miles. The number of states involved in the battles, individual encampments and eventual seige along the eight mile frontlines, is marked by hundreds of monuments along the entire drive. This intensely ravined and hilly surrounding battlefield, commanded by northern union General U.S. Grant is probably the most complex and technological of the war.

Tunneling, log and earthen ramparts and construction to hold seige by the union held 'low ground', is evident everywhere. Grant's troops even tried unsuccessfully to divert the Mississippi through a bypass channel. A museum is on site with narrated film describing the four month event resulting in the eventual starvation and surrender of Vicksburg on July 4th 1863 by Lt Col John C Pemberton. The total combined cost of 20,000 soldiers (significantly many officers) killed and wounded during the conflict.

The notorious union Ironclad 'Cairo' is on an impressive display with it's full complement of artifacts in it's own museum, attributed to it's fast sinking and 100 yr preservation under mud. Cairo is considered the very best preserved of the few Ironclads patterned after the infamous Merrimac (battled the union Monitor) remaining.

After our one night's stay on a hillside at the former old KOA, now called Battlefield Campground, we headed out toward Alabama on a non-stop drive across Louisiana on the beautifully tree lined highways. Wind was our companion as a storm front approached from the south. Mileage was low due to the hills demanding frequent downshifts and winds. Fuel stops are not more than 500 miles.

Tannehill Historical Iron Works State Park:

Arrived at dusk. Alabama park Ranger guided us into a large site under the trees as he described the storm warning. "Sireeens" he said, so expect rainfall and wind. He was right, we hunkered down for the night to the pleasant sound of the rain.
Late morning, we registered. Slept until almost 9am. After senior discount of 15%, it is only $20 per night.

Found out that 'Trade Days' (big flea mkt of over 300 participants), are scheduled for this weekend, so now we are registered to stay through Sat night. Tannehill is 'the' park for families. Kids are riding bicycles all over during weekends and when school is out. This RV park is big, beautiful and treesy with a nice stream running through.

All kinds of birds are plentiful. Bluebirds, tiny Finches, Red Headed Wodpeckers, Cardinals, even Red Winged Blackbirds with their unique call, was my morning greeting. Squirrels and Crows are everywhere. Ducks slept under our rig during last night's rain. They waddled out to greet me, as I spread a little birdseed under our dinette window. A small baby Squirrel is sampling the birdseed. Will have to buy some peanuts in the shell for later.

After a couple of days driving around Birmingham and checking out the stuff we are intersted in, we found out that besides the Talladega raceway event this weekend, There is the big Alabama 'A' games. The trade Days here at the RV park, with it's thousands of participants, is adding another traffic mess to contend with on Sunday.... when they all culminate.

There is only one major highway leading out from here, and it merges with the second major hwy to form a giant traffic jam as it nears Birmingham. Add the threat of tornados in this area on Saturday, and we decided to hunker down in this low spot among the southern Appalacians.

We chose to not be involved in a stop and go traffic jam with this coach. Sunday night and leave on Monday, is our additional choice. We are here for a week on Sunday. What a beautiful pleasant place to be stuck. I hiked around a little today in the great weather, and tomorrow will include more. The museum here is too large and technical (see pics) to see in one bite

The attractive lady at the door said she will let me back in tomorrow. It's only a dollar for seniors, worth lots more.

Tannehill started the Birmingham steel industry (Pittsburg of the south) with it's charcoal fired Pig Iron ovens in 1830. In 1865 the Federal forces deemed it necessary to destroy the entire industry, if uncompromisingly winning the civil war was to happen. A force of over 13,000 Federal Cavalry, including the attack on the Tannehill Ironworks led by Wilson, speedily overwhelmed all of the the Alabama iron works, traveling over 300 miles in less than 30 days, they destroyed all of the factories and iron facilities.

The civil war was a major turning point in technology and industrialization, leading to the United States soon dominating the entire world. The civil war was begun, using horsedrawn smoothbore Napoleon canons, barely effective in short distances for hundreds of years, and ended four years later with the automaticaly swiveled guns with rifled barrels of all future weaponry, accurate for miles.

Telegraphy and electricity became common. Major medical advancements such as 'embalming', modern machining methods and advances in everything too numerous to list. Wooden ships were at the time, the basic form of naval navigation. The iron age leading to the age of steel (alloy) and the resultant steam engine changed all of that.

The submarine (the Confederate Hunley, currently being preserved) instantly made surface ships vulnerable like never before. The greatest navy in the world, the British, witnessed the Merrimac (previously the Federal Virginia re-built by the Confederate south), battle the Monitor of the federal union, and declared that all of it's ships were no longer of military effectiveness. Photography did not exist before the civil war.
War is the indisputable innovator in history.
Utopian dreaming 'peaceniks' are loathe to admit it.....

Tannehill storms:
SIREEEENS (Alabama talk) are a blowin' and some folks are headin' into the laundry building here at the RV park. Wife is watchin' the tornado's on the TEEE VEEE. Not any of them real close...yet. We stayed here in the coach watchin' the other folks as they slowly dribbled back to their RV's after the SIREEEENS stopped.

The thunder sounds further away now. Guess the real storm just missed us. Dead quiet ...for now. Tuscaloosa got hit and then 'Really Hit' after we left this area. Talladega Raceway folks are campin' all around the track and infield. Saturday and Sunday are their exciting times.

Whoops one more thunder boomer. I had to patch up the awning, sewing it with doubled monofilament fishing line, then duct taping it to the roof. It is the roller awning that covers the bedroom slide out. Dam thing flaps in the wind as we drive, and tears. Sun rots the thing between coach and roller where it is exposed to the UV. Awning company sewed it last time, after I removed it myself and took it to them. PIA..

The design is poor and leaves the exposed fabric vulnerable. Better engineering would have linked armor covering the last exposed foot of the rolled up 'Sunbrella' instead of the semi-shroud now in place. That's the way the window awnings are, no reason Holiday Rambler didn't carry through on the slide out awnings. Good thing I always carry an aluminum extension ladder in the basement compartment. Got it done just in time for the quasi-faux-storm.
I only hear the Red Winged Blackbirds just before the storms...interesting.
Whopsie another thunder roll...close.

Sat morn, sunshine and 'Trade Days' at Tannehill. Found a few treasures. This is a big deal around these parts. 300 spaces to browse and bargain.
Walked back over to the informative Tannehill Museum today

At $2.00 it is a great deal. :>) I found out more about this iron district. In 1840 there were only about 5,000 inhabitants....of Chicago. The pipes for their water system were either hand hollowed logs, or 'staved' pipes. The iron pipes and iron cover plates from Alabama started making those old wooden ones obsolete. Many of the old iron pipes are still in use today. Waaay over 100 years and still in perfectly useable condition?

The Rio Rancho district in NM near ABQ is not even 40 years old and has had to replace many of it's plastic pipes at least twice already. Now they, along with ABQ are having to replace a major part of it's plastic water infrastructure ....again.

Wow we are sure in 'Progress' are we not?

The huge for it's time Birmingham

Alabama Ensley blast furnaces

eventually leading to prosperous Steel and Iron manufacturing

US Steel was the USA's major 'rail' supplier until the shutdown in the 80's when they started Going Green and hoping for miracles

Countless thousands of workers were left without jobs, forcing a fleeing north of the workforce in the 1960 to 1980 period. BTW I still notice while traveling across the USA, iron manhole covers cast in 'Neenah Wisconsin' back when Wisconsin was 'industrial'..... before it was 'Green'....

Tannehill was a major iron supplier to the Confederacy (cannons and armor) until Wilson's Raiders (Cavalry Union Federals) burned and destroyed it in 1865. Not much left to rebuild after that. It (one 'blast' furnace)was restored to demonstration level for the Bi-centenial USA in 1976. Ran some Bicentinial iron pieces (cannons:>) then shutdown as a National Monument to iron engineering in the USA.

A dam held water upstream to run through a sluice to a water wheel to drive a big fan. The fan provided the forced air to 'Blast' the furnace and drastically raise the temperature. All of that in the mid 1800's. It was the 'Bessemer' process used in Pennsylvania just a couple of years before. A large Dotterer steam engine was also used in the 1800's. (Beautifully Rebuilt model on display in museum).

The original 1830 Iron ore melting furnace was a 'Bloomery', where no air pressure was used. That iron had many impurities (slag) which was 'forged' out of the iron as it was being 'forged' (pounded) into tools and other useful items. The presence of iron ore,, quarry stone (to build the furnaces), trees providing Wood for charcoal (fire), limestone, (flux to remove slag), Water to power the wheels and cams, to repeatedly raise the hammer mill pounding on the anvil, 'forging' the iron. Water powered a 'grist', milling grain, a cotton gin and spinning wheels to make cotton thread. All of this in one handy location in the hills. Voila...Historic Tannehill. :>)

We have been here 7 days and still finding surprises. Weekends are the ultimate kids days. Everywhere there are kids. A really well equipped playground is filled with laughing children. The trails are used by bicycle riders as well as hikers. The many historic cabins are reconstructed as rentals for campers and groups.

The little store is friendly, usually open. Trade Days (flea market)cater to the weekenders once a month. Restrooms and showers are scattered in various parts of the park. A small train circles the large park connecting the far end Boyscout Camp (flea mkt site) to the center. Streams are flowing and fishing is good (free for kids) due to the Game and Fish dept stocking it. Kids are playing ball wherever they find an open space, even on hillsides.. :>)

I can not imagine those Engineers back in the 1800's. They were amazing, to develope this entire project with the financial assistance of their many 'Greedy' (today's liberal's term) supporters and gambling dreamers of their time.

Just as today, many of the financial developers lost all, risking on the gamble, never to regain their fortunes. So much for the reputed 'Greed' of their dreams,....... without which we would still be in caves. Hopefully the liberal hated 'Greed', despite being under liberal leftist (new name, 'Progressive') brain washing attack, is still in play for the world and the USA

Chattanooga Tennessee:

Our Holiday Travel Park

RV campground is home for a few nights. Several interesting stops around the area including the Chattanooga Choo Choo hotel, with it's train cars to rent for the night and also diner cars for snacks or full meals. The streets around Chattanooga are following history's twisty trails with little recourse for poor planning in our own exploration. The state line with Georgia is blurry in this area.
The Chickamauga Chattanooga Battlefield National Park and monument

on the Georgia side, take up more time due to the extensive displays and museum theater describing the battles. The massive donated gun collection is a wonderful piece of history, impressing even Co-pilot. Rosecrans and Bragg do not come across as especially brilliant in spite of shared West Point credentials. Good fortune, bravery and circumstance were the most influential aspects for victory day by day, in the many separate stages of warfare on this deadly site.

This is the 150th anniversary of the start of the Civil War. This entire southern states area will have commemoration marking each battle and countless noteworthy events for the next four years. "The South will rise Again".

Ringold Georgia:

A side trip or two to nearby Ringold was in our plans, so using Chattanooga as our base, we did our business ride there in the Jeep. Found some treasures at a source that co-pilot uses for odds and ends to sell in her antiquey space of 'The Antique Connection' on east central back in ABQ. We decided to return to Ringold and pick up one more treasure before leaving the area.

A small 'drive up' bar B Q joint near the Sonic on the western edge of town, proved so wonderful that we bought another pound for travel meals. Got word by business email today that little Ringold really got hit by the Tornado cluster that wreaked havoc on it's trek through the southern states on way toward Virginia. We dodged those storms for all of the trip. Hope that the little BBQ joint survived.

Tennessee, Arkansas dash to Texas:
Leaving our Holliday trav-L-park in the early morning, we have Been driving about 400 miles per day during the evasive run to outflank the many storms across the south...so far, so good. We zigzagged Tennesee up and down for about 300 miles at 45 mph on it's back country highways. Saw the rural hilly Tennesee in the process. Used too much fuel by never getting up to cruise speed and staying in lower gears. Disturbing scenery of scattered poverty between islands of prosperity afforded by manufacturing. This scene was repeated during the many days through sections of the south. Makes us wish to win a billion dollar lottery and start worthwhile businesses across the entire area.

Only a few areas are prosperous in stark contrast. The GM (union) plant town of Spring Hill Tennessee

is way out of the normal for this area. No way the rest of the rural areas with their accustomed 'dependency' lifestyle on subsistance welfare can anywhere near compare. Maybe if everyone was union it would make things equal? At least that is the dream of 'Progressives's that only think equal is everyone wealthy and not stuck sinking into unemployed poverty.

One of many noticeable examples, Politically influential Little Rock Arkansas

is prosperous in healthcare and educational facilities, public sector jobs primarily including the big federally funded highway interchanges. Several noteworthy private sector businesses contribute to the economy. The majority of jobs apparent are federally funded along large areeas of the southern states with voting blocks being catered to by their politicians. The car manufacturers bring wealth into the islands of plenty, sparsely situated along the corridors.

Texas is a another contrast. It's juggernaught construction and manufacturing power is illustrated by the endless count of trucks headed for Texas. We observed them on the highways carrying steel in plates, rolls, pipes, iron support beams and cables to be used in making the nations industrial power run. Their production of food to satisfy our hungry nation and for export, is legendary.

Forest products are a source of income through the wet southeastern areas. Lots of log trucks hauling the rapidly growing 'piney woods' to the mills, are common. Fiber Optic communication is being buried all along the nation's highways. Foreign owned Toll Roads demanding massive amounts of condemend 'Right of Way' are another little known but noticeable addition to our dependency addicted nation's infrastructure.

Noticed a rapidly degrading contrast to the subsidized rural as well. Put anything that was once new and shiny, out in back of the shed, and the earth rapidly takes it back into it's base molecular structure. East Texas as well as Louisiana has countless cars, trucks, boats, campers and once proudly aquired whatevers, being rapidly devoured by the undergrowth (including Kudzu vine). This includes homes not maintained due to shortage of funds. They fast become unrecognizeable derelicts within a surprisingly short period.

David Crockett State Park Tennessee:

Was an interesting park to locate. The sign and entrance was within a major highway bridge re-construction. After passing, turning around (no easy task) and nearly re-passing the entrance, we finally got into the park. Hilly and treesy, it reminds us of what the frontier looked like in American legend Davy Crockett's time.

We stopped at the office and paid our $20. Drove into the RV section of the park per map, picked a site to back into, checked on another, then picked yet another. Level is not always easy to do in a long rig. Water and electric were common, with a dump site at the entrance. The fee to this busy state park includes a paper tag to place on the post of the site we occupied.

After a complex process of undocking the Jeep and getting the rig into campsite position, we noticed a young boy and his brother were watching our maneuvers from the trees. He wore a coonskin cap and carried a good quality green and black, wood and metal, toy Musket rifle that he got while visiting Disneyland. He had seen the movie and knew the songs.

I told him that his rifle was great in detail (had seen them online), mentioning to him that it could fire caps. In these politically (in-)correct times, to see a kid play with a gun as my childhood encouraged, gives me hope. The hard won Free spirit of our American heritage is not dead.

At a nearby tent encampment, of which there were many at this park and others, I found and complimented his mother and father for encouraging their sons to understand American History...all of it. She told me 'The Alamo' is on their future trip plans. I left her my copy of American Rifleman, while mentioning the Youth projects of the NRA.

A very nice evening spent in Crockett's hills, where I got in a fair amount of hiking before dark. Fair TV reception showed the path of the constantly moving storms, for our next days evasive action. Quiet campground, slept soundly. Awoke, prepared breakfast. Drove the Jeep into nearby Laurenceburg. David Crockett Museum was closed for remodel. Returned after checking out the town. Docked the Jeep prepped for departure, upon which we dumped the holding tanks and hit the highway leaving Tennessee for the Texas State line.

The storms are staying to the east of I-35 for now. That was our dash line, as we constantly battled the wind. It was off our port bow at approximately 37 mph for most of the days now, resulting in the worst fuel economy of 5 to 6 mpg at 50 mph max in 3rd and fourth gear. Fuel saving Overdrive was out of the equation. Steering was an endless battle with the wheel cranked several degrees to the left just to stay on the highway. Our new tires lost some rubber during these last few hundred miles.

The Corps of Engineers Atlanta Texas State park

just inside the Texas state line from Arkansas, was nice and treesy with the 20,300 acre, 170 miles of shoreline, Wright Patman manmade lake (that's what the Corps of Engineers does very well), as all but one of the lakes in Texas (Caddo Lake, the exception). The camp sites among the big trees were excellent, fishing looked good but the mosquitos were getting after me. Hiked the area for a couple of hours or more and talked to a few folks trying their fishing luck, then returned to the coach after dark. Looking for a quiet night before heading deeper into Texas in the morning.

Texas is now our relative haven as we had previously battled our way out of storm targeted Alabama (really devastated Tuscaloosa) just after we left that area, weaving up then down through Tennessee, across Arkansas), then heading ever southwestward back into and across familiar Texas.

Ink's Lake state park:
Once again is our favored home for these two nights of rest among the ducks, geese, and deer. Fishing may be in the cards today. Rental canoes look inviting but co-pilot is having knee problems. Temps are supposed to aproach high 90's now with seasonal and varied annual drought apparent. Funny leaving Tennesee with rivers at flood stage, fighting our weaving path between tornados, and into 'drought' within 800 highway miles and two days.

After leaving Ink's Lake, Texas State Park once more,
Late afternoon, driving lots of miles, we arrived at
San Angelo again and our fav City park at Lake Nasworthy:
No internet, so just hiked around a bit and watched the Alpacas, horses, sheep, tree climbing goats and turkey vultures. At one time in past visits, a white peacock would spread his tail for us.. The little black rock squirrels were not visible but their holes are still there.

Last trip, this park had a bad infestation of fire ants

In a swarm, they sting and kill anything they find helpless on the ground. They are miniscule in size around this area. Their little mounds are like finely ground turkish coffee. They leave long recurring pustules after administering their circular sting cluster. We found that After Bite, Clorox, Ammonia or anti-bacterial hand cleaner quiets the sting.... if repeated applications are used immediately. I carry pocket pen applicators I have filled with each, just in case.

No wild hogs or turkeys to be seen this evening at Lake Nasworthy. Turkeys also lay eggs on the ground, so are vulnerable to fire ants. They blind a newborn calf if they drop anywhere near the fire ants bed. Not good critters, but the cotton growers like 'em. They seriously destroy the Boll Weavil, so less insecticide is required. No sign of the fire ants this trip, but that doesn't mean they are gone. The larger native ants were plentiful which is a good sign that the fire ants may be on the decline here. We imagine that the camping tenters told the city to get some Amdro or Extinguish on 'em.

We browsed the thrift stores for treasures to recycle, then left after a fill up of fuel at Sam's Club for $3.61. Ate a Chick Fillet lunch near the Sam's. The wind was fighting us most of the way through Texas, so 5 to 6 mpg was the best.. Big Spring was passed by for La Mesa. Lost our planned RV park at La Mesa. Turned around the blocks looking, but no luck, so continued on to Plains Texas where we snacked at the DQ (every Texas town has a DQ... if it is a thriving metropolis) before driving on to...

Roswell New Mexico:
Continuing wind on highway leading from San Angelo, No quiet air until nearing Roswell as the sun set (Alien Capital of the USA). Ended the day at well over 300 miles.

Watching TV before in bed, we saw news about Tuscaloosa Alabama being destroyed. We had been camped close by Tuscaloosa for a week, and had stopped in there for provisions. We had almost parked in the Walmart in Tuscaloosa one evening near other RVs, but it was too warm and humid as the tornado fueled storms approached. Fortunately we had chosen to go on to Tannehill State Park down in the valley, for our quieter retreat.

Nice quiet night at the Roswell Sam's Club:
Got in one evening 'nighthawk' prowl around, before bed. Very quiet night sleep, awoke early, sausage McBiscuits from Walmart for breakfast before another wind racing dash toward home terminal. Put in 8 gallons of fuel before leaving Roswell, so to be insured of enough to make ABQ. The wind blew and we needed it.

This trip we changed our usual route and headed through Willard and Estancia into Moriarty, hugging the eastern lee of the Manzano mountains where it was less windy. Still hit some fierce wind getting there from Roswell. Saw a lot of hawks along the highway. The tall power lines with cross arms are attractive to them, but often deadly. Crows are numerous and 'debating' the hawks for air space. Cattle with antelope are eagerly following the 'hay drop' trucks.

Always enjoyable to retrace old routes. Numerous Freight trains on tracks alongside the highway, some loaded with coal, many 'piggybacks', but most loaded with shipping containers double stacked in 'well cars', were plentiful during this trip. Business (imports) must be good. Finally got through the canyon in light traffic, into ABQ and Costco for fill up. $3.61 just like at San Angelo Sam's Club. Fuel avg increased in price about 15 cents per gal over the start of the one month trip. Stopped in at Carl's Jr for our turkey burger with 1 chocolate malt, then home.

Unload chores:
take in the traveling provisions and then dump the holding tanks. I had previously rigged a dump line to the clean-out at the house, so I could do the job right. I had poured in a bottle of dish washing detergent after last dump, to clean out the gray water holding tank while doing the rock and roll on the highway. It came out as a sudsy blue rinse (I had previously rigged a clear tube section of 3" Valtera with their redundant knife valve, to watch the interesting? process as I dump :>). Numerous small chunks swirled out, so must have gotten rid of any build-up in the lines and valves. Always leave a little soapy water to keep the valves wet during storage. Don't want them stuck shut causing a problem on next trip.

Coach battery bank of four 6vdc golf cart batteries was topped off with distilled water, 1/2 gallon of it. Wife's hand mirror lets the water level be easily seen while my squeeze bottle transferred the water through a 1/4" plastic tube. Turned on the maintenance smart charger to bring the mix to saturation. The original 650 CCA chassis battery lasted to bring us home. Two days later it was dead, after 7 years and over 58,000 miles. New Interstate class 78 battery with 85 month pro-rate and 800 CCA from Sam's Club took it's place.

Covered the front cabin windows with snap on Sunscreen covers for storage. Saves the cab from UV attack in the NM sun. The ADCO covers do not last long enough to make tham usefull. UV attacks everything in NM sun. A good wax job seems to work as well as anything. Eagle One is a fast spray on 'Nano Wax' easy to apply. Good products and reasonable prices.

Found out on this trip that the small blue 'in-line' hose filter that Walmart sells for $16 in the camper supply dept, is excellent. Rigged it into drinking water tap line under the sink, with fittings from Lowe's. Better taste... if we drink from, or make coffee from the fresh water holding tank or park water. . Far better than the expensive specialized filters sold at the RV stores.

Looked up at slide-out awning and noticed a missing left housing cover. Website for Carefreee of Colorado showed the parts. Called for number and was referred to ('Rocky Mountain RV') local dealer. Ordered hand sized plastic cover for $26. Carefree said that this awning was not a factory installed unit? Like they ship out finished RV's without slide-out covers? I seriously doubt her ...guess.?

Finally on this home computer with a real mouse, instead of 'mouse pad'. Home Internet is like lightning, in comparison to the slow, meagerly powered wifi's we dealt with along the voyage. Really appreciate our modern amenities when they are restricted for awhile.

Fetched a beer from the fridge (Wasatch Polygamy Porter... "Why have just one"?:>). Now for some recapping of the trip and posting this whole mess to the blog for posterity. No one reads them because they are lengthy, but so what. Keeps my brain active, alziemers at bay, and that's a good thing right...right? :>)...

This USA is the greatest nation on earth. The freedom to travel for almost 4000 miles with no war lords setting up road blocks every few miles, is appreciated by this Freedom loving family. 'CHANGE' is not always a good thing, especially in 'One Nation Under God'.

Sling Shot Man...Kid

2011-03-30T10:44:00.000-07:00

I always carried a slingshot in my back pocket when a kid. Became fairly deadly with it. Was shown how to use and make 'em, by Reverand McCartney from Tex-Arkana. Later he was a teacher and the guidance councilor at EVH for a few years. I first met him years before, when he was the new Preacher at the little white Diamond Lake Methodist Church at 59-A and Diamond Lake Rd. He replaced George McGovern...that's right "The" George McGovern of Presidential run fame

Became a senator of....hmmm.. South Dakota? if I recall.

He and his little family were welcome Sunday visitors at our modest little home. Mom fixed chicken mostly. Often Pheasant (Dad was a commissioned Game Warden). We had hundreds of chickens. Our garden was always growng good stuff for everyone to share with. Dad helped George McGovern out from time to time with expenses. George had been a bomber pilot during WWII. Must have been a good one, made it back to the states and became our Preacher Man.

After Reverand McGovern, is when the new Preacher McCartney taught me the finer points of the slingshot art. Birds ate our cherrys off the trees, so we 'controlled' them. Friend Larry's dad loved his Purple Martins. They would swoop, twist and spiral through the air like "little friends"... fighter aircraft. Hank, Larry's dad, had a big white Martin house in their 'greeting card scene', front yard. It looked like a portaled and balconied hotel with many rooms. One afternoon, Larry and I were in his terraced front yard. I was jokingly challenged to see if I could shoot a flying bird out of the air. Watching for just the right bird, twisting through the sky, I casually fired off a small rock. Killed it dead midflight and it dropped from the sky into the front yard.

Larry became instantly petrified. His dad treated those Purple Martins like his kids...even better. Larry ran to the feathered heap, and carefully picked it up. Trying to revive the bird was of no avail. Larry then ran deep into the field with it's lifeless body. Not satisfied to just toss it there, he ran and got a shovel to bury it.... About two feet deep. After burying it, we covered it with weeds to hide the digging spot.

I only used the sling shot as a defensive weapon on the bad natured (to put it mildly) 'Shady Lane' kids living near Diamond Lake. They would threaten to whup up on me as I walked by them on my way to the lake. Didn't do anything until they started throwing rocks. The trusty slingshot ended their rock throwing pretty quick, with a few, rapid fire, well placed shots, they dispersed (to say the least). Not quite as good as the man below, but Rarely missed. :>)

Happiness is .... opening the door to see the smiling face of an old friend
Subject: FW: Sling shot champion
Possibly the most talented slingshot marksman of all time
Sling shot Man

Enjoy Freedom and Life in the great United States of America, "One Nation Under God".

Truth.... in Media?

2011-03-24T19:28:00.000-07:00

Posted by Robo of California:

Finding the actual truth is becoming more and more difficult in this Politically Correct, Revisionist, Progressive, society.

Take the February 7, 2011 issue of Time magazine with Ronald Reagan and Obama shaking hands on the cover. They 'Never' met, but don't let that fact get in the way of media 'spin'. Crux of the article was that Obama has quickly bottomed out, and is moving toward the center, and will soon be like Ronald Reagan?

The article went on to explain that Obama's 'Far Left' policies were the fault of Nancy Pelosi? and now that she's been thrown under the bus, Obama can fix what Pelosi has ruined in four years, and Obama in two.

Unfortunately I had neither a bird cage bottom to line, nor a fish to wrap, and make use of this publication. I had met Ronald Reagan, and worked for his election for governor of California, and I can say, "Mr. Obama, you're No Ronald Reagan." Not even close. Truth in media? I think not!

Someone is starting a scholarship for the most under-served, under appreciated, most discriminated against persons in this country. The Anglo-Saxon honkey-'cracker' male. I mean everyone else has 'preferred' status in jobs, financial assistance, government put asides, and increased and prefered welfare (1999 Community Investment Act). But the Anglo-Saxon 'honkey-cracker' male only gets to pay the bill through ever increasing, excessive taxes.

Someone is finally starting to appreciate the Anglo-Saxon male? the Demographic who has historically given so much to society. Democracy, Republic form of government, science and patents, medicine, technology, education, religion, philosophy, athletics, etc. They have brought you air flight, space flight, trains, ships, TV, the computer, automobile, cameras, X-ray, CT, MRI, and breast scanning technology. To say nothing of all the luxuries the human race has desired.

They have provided the laws (although some I wish they hadn't), standards and disciplines that keep things somewhat stable. It's time to have the scholarship money to bring newer and more exciting things to the world. No matter how much they have been knocked around by so many social groups, they still want to be able to return to help get the world we have desecrated, back to some sort of order and saneness.

Shouldn't our 'new world order' be somewhat grateful for the Anglo-Saxon in history? Their grave sites are all around the world as a reminder of their continued fight for freedom for ALL. This is not to say that others have not contributed, but to recognize that as evil, as everyone seems to try to make us, we are still trying to make things better for all. I wish it wasn't this way, the cry from the Leftists is that we are all equal, EXCEPT...
"Some are more equal than others." (self elected ruling Pigs quote from 'Animal Farm')

Go Wisconsin! Talk about Republicans with guts? Of course the headlines from the mainstream media read, "Wisconsin Union Busting Bill" (from AOHELL), "Strip Collective Bargaining Rights," (LA LA Times).

Of course these headlines are misleading at the least. First the unions aren't busted, they are scaled back in 'how much' they can rob from the helpless taxpayer.

They still have bargaining rights, 'over' the inflation rate. They have to contribute about 10% more to their very generous medical and retirement package. Medical and retirement benefits the poor taxpayer has to fund, against his will.

Those two great "Progressive" intellectuals got their 15 seconds of undeserved fame, Jesse Jackson and Michael Moore. Come to think about it, isn't Charlie Sheen another "Progressive Intellectual?" Seemed most of the protesters were students and teachers cutting class. How do you spell Parasites ripping off the taxpayers?

What is absolutely amazing, is that Anyone within the GOP gets elected... because there is not going to be any truth from the mainstream media to back them up. Media outlets, like Time magazine, Newsweek (should be Newspeak), NBC, CBS, ABC, MSNBC, PBS, etc. are simply AP propaganda arms of the "Progressive Party".

Congressman Peter King is holding hearings on radical Islam. Of course, true to lock step form, the "Progressive Party" is screaming racism, profiling, and wants the hearings to include all religions. OK, in the name of fairness lets hold hearings for all religions that engage in organised terrorist activity that blow people up.

Let's hear it for the Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Catholic, Jewish, Buddhist, Hindi, Shinto, and every other religion that advocates organised terrorist activity and destroying human life to appease their gods.

Ready? Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. What there aren't any others? What could congressman King be thinking of? When so called mainstream Muslims take to the streets with demonstrations, as shown against the GOP government in Wisconsin, then I will believe Islam is a peaceful religion. Obama already believes this, but then look at the source of that belief.

I have just gone through bureaucratic hell to get a smog certificate for a classic 77 Chevy with only 55,000 original miles. It has cost over $525 plus 5 months of 'jerk around' by the auto and smog industry to certify the car safe to drive in California. The culprit was 5 carbon molecules, per million, more than the bureaucrats in Sacramento allows us serfs.

Had to have a carburetor overhaul, maybe just replaced the gasket as far as I know. That's 5 carbon molecules per million and 5 months wasted to satisfy some junk science law. I know someone who spent 6 months jumping through this bureaucratic hoop.

The problem is, if you're a bureaucrat, answerable only to fellow bureaucrats, and your very generous salary provided by taxpayers, dependent on there being smog,.... there will be smog.

If your mega benefits package is dependent on their being smog, there will be smog.

If your golden retirement package, paid for by the taxpayers, is dependent on their being smog, guess what? There will be smog.

No matter how insignificant and no matter how much voodoo science is involved, if not answerable to anyone but fellow bureaucrats, there will be a hazard.
In all 'Fairness' (the lefts favorite word) I do have to say that Big Brother offered me $1,000 in taxpayers money to junk my classic car. I am so glad Big Bro loves me and looks after me.

We should ban breathing, or at least exhaling, as it produces CO2, and would imaginably warm the earth.
No swimming because it causes drowning.
Driving causes accidents.
Walking causes tripping.
Sports cause injury.
Electricity can cause death.

And while the Progressive 'elites' are at it, regulating our lives, they should also ban all Dihydrogen Oxide. It's everywhere! In the food chain, in the water we drink, in the soil, in the plants, in our food, It can cause death. Some Progressive should start the, "Society to ban Dihydrogen Oxide". Who knows they might win an Oscar from Hollyweird and a 'Piece' Prize to prop open a door. Might be some useful purpose there?

On 2001 the "Progressive" County of Los Angeles floated a bond for $5.7 billion (that's right with a "B") to fix up the Jr. Colleges. What could go wrong? The Jr. Colleges get state of the art equipment, the remodeling provides jobs, high paying union jobs, and the taxpayers get stuck with the bill.

Perfect scenario, what could go wrong? Well, none other than the LA LA Times (wonder upon wonders) has been reporting that 10's of millions of dollars has had to be spent to correct the shoddy workmanship, falling plaster, crooked doors, tilted walls, and just plain wasted funds.

So much for the union label. The overpaid administrator was fired or resigned, too bad, he would have had a cushier retirement package. Just another countless project to overtax the taxpayer.

But then actual "Truth" is not in the vocabulary of the "Progressive Party".
(In Huxley's 'Brave New World', the ruling leftists had their 'Ministry of Truth')

Robo

JAPAN QUAKE Delta 767 on approach

2011-03-21T17:05:00.000-07:00

Written by a Delta pilot on approach to Tokyo during earthquake...

For all my friends that think we sit up front doing the crossword!
A good read.

I'm currently still in one piece, writing from my
room in the Narita crew hotel.
It's 8am. This is my inaugural trans-pacific trip as
a brand new, recently checked out, international 767 Captain and it
has been interesting, to say the least, so far. I've crossed the
Atlantic three times so far, so the ocean crossing procedures
were familiar.

By the way, stunning scenery flying over the
Aleutian Islands. Everything was going fine until 100 miles out
from Tokyo and in the descent for arrival.
The first indication of any trouble was that Japan air
traffic control started putting everyone into holding patterns.
At first we thought it was usual congestion on arrival.
Then we got a company data link message advising about the
earthquake, followed by another stating Narita airport was
temporarily closed for inspection and expected to open shortly
(the company is always so
positive).

From our perspective things were obviously looking
a little different. The Japanese controller's anxiety level
seemed quite high and he said expect "indefinite" holding time.
No one would commit to a time frame on that so I got my copilot
and relief pilot busy looking at divert stations and our
fuel situation, which, after an ocean crossing is typically low.

It wasn't long, maybe ten minutes, before the first
pilots started requesting diversions to other airports.
Air Canada, American, United, etc. all reporting minimal fuel
situations. I still had enough fuel for 1.5 to 2.0 hours
of holding. Needless to say, the diverts started
complicating the situation.

Japan air traffic control then announced
Narita was closed indefinitely due to damage. Planes immediately
started requesting arrivals into Haneada, near Tokyo,
a half dozen JAL and western planes got clearance in that
direction but then ATC announced Haenada had just closed.
Uh oh! Now instead of just holding, we all had to start looking
at more distant alternatives
like Osaka, or Nagoya.

One bad thing about a large airliner is that you
can't just be-pop into any little airport. We generally need
lots of runway. With more planes piling in from both east and
west, all needing a place to land and several now fuel critical
ATC was getting over-whelmed. In the scramble, and without
waiting for my fuel to get critical, I got my flight a
clearance to head for Nagoya, fuel situation still okay.
So far so good. A few minutes into heading that way,
I was "ordered" by ATC to reverse course. Nagoya was
saturated with traffic and unable to handle more planes
(read- airport full). Ditto for Osaka.

With that statement, my situation went instantly
from fuel okay, to fuel minimal considering we might have
to divert a much farther distance. Multiply my situation
by a dozen other aircraft all in the same boat,
all making demands requests and threats to ATC for clearances
somewhere. Air Canada and then someone else went to "emergency"
fuel situation. Planes started to heading for air force bases.
The nearest to Tokyo was Yokoda AFB. I threw my hat in the ring
for that initially. The answer - Yokoda closed! no
more space.

By now it was a three ring circus in the cockpit, my
copilot on the radios, me flying and making decisions and
the relief copilot buried in the air charts trying to figure out
where to go that was within range, while data link messages
were flying back and forth between us and company dispatch
in Atlanta. I picked Misawa AFB at the north end of
Honshu island. We could get there with minimal fuel remaining.
ATC was happy to get rid of us, so we cleared out of
the maelstrom of the Tokyo region. We heard ATC try to
send planes toward ''''Sendai'''', a small regional airport
on the coast which was later the one I think that
got flooded by a tsunami.

Atlanta dispatch then sent us a message
asking if we could continue to Chitose airport on the Island
of Hokkaido, north of Honshu. Other Delta planes were heading
that way. More scrambling in the cockpit -
check weather, check charts, check fuel, okay. We could still
make it and not be going into a fuel critical situation ...
if we had no other fuel delays. As we approached Misawa we
got clearance to continue to Chitose. Critical decision
thought process. Let's see - trying to help company -
plane overflies perfectly good divert airport for one
farther away...wonder how that will look in the
safety report, if anything goes wrong.

Suddenly ATC comes up and gives us a vector to a fix
well short of Chitose and tells us to standby for holding
instructions. Nightmare realized. Situation rapidly deteriorating.
After initially holding near Tokyo, starting a divert to Nagoya,
reversing course back to Tokyo then to re-diverting north toward
Misawa, all that happy fuel reserve that I had was
vaporizing fast. My subsequent conversation,
paraphrased of course...., went
something like this:

"Sapparo Control - Delta XX requesting immediate
clearance direct to Chitose, minimum fuel, unable hold."

"Negative Ghost-Rider, the Pattern is full"
<<< Top Gun movie quote <<<

"Sapparo Control - make that - Delta XX declaring
emergency, low fuel, proceeding direct Chitose"

"Roger Delta XX, understood, you are cleared direct
to Chitose, contact Chitose approach....etc...."

Enough was enough, I had decided to preempt actually
running critically low on fuel while in another indefinite
holding pattern, especially after bypassing Misawa, and played
my last ace...declaring an emergency. The problem with that
is now I have a bit of company paperwork to do but what the heck.

As it was - landed Chitose, safe, with at least 30
minutes of fuel remaining before reaching a "true"
fuel emergency situation. That's always a good feeling, being safe.
They taxied us off to some remote parking area where we shut down
and watched a half dozen or more other airplanes come streaming in.
In the end, Delta had two 747s, my 767 and another 767 and a 777
all on the ramp at Chitose. We saw to American airlines planes,
a United and two Air Canada as well. Not to mention several
extra Al Nippon and Japan Air Lines planes.

Post-script - 9 hours later, Japan air lines finally
got around to getting a boarding ladder to the plane
where we were able to get off and clear customs. -
that however, is another interesting story.

By the way - while writing this - I have felt four
additional tremors that shook the hotel slightly, -
all in 45 minutes.

Cheers, J.D.

Japan Quake described by UAL Captain

2011-03-17T19:21:00.000-07:00

Here’s a very interesting narrative a UAL B-777 Captain’s experience with the 9.0 earthquake

: This is making the rounds of UALers, so you may have seen it. Pretty Graphic. (love that name)

This guy is a 777 captain for United.
— On Sat, 3/12/11, Dan Delight wrote:
Subject: update from the far side of the world.

Date: Saturday, March 12, 2011, 9:31 PM

Hello all. First of all, I’m OK. (I know you’ve heard that one before….) I was in Tokyo for “the big one”. Here’s a bit of narrative and thoughts I have written down during the last day and a half. It’s a bit long. Most of it written starting a few hours after the quake, but is a continuing journal also. (Some of you have already received some of this)

March 11, 2011, I am just finishing up my 24 hour layover in Tokyo, Japan. The trip from Los Angeles was pretty much uneventful, as is the layover. I am freshly showered, and just finishing dressing and packing my bags for the next leg of my trip to Singapore. I am just starting to put my socks and shoes on, and will be ready for the hour taxi ride back to Narita Airport. Just another exhausting all night flight to look forward to.

The taxi pickup time is 3:10 in the afternoon, which is 10:10 at night Los Angeles time. At just a couple minutes prior to 3:00 o’clock, it hit. Not very strong at first, but strong enough that I know exactly what it is. An earthquake. Now, Japan just had a pretty strong 7.2 quake a week or so ago, so it’s probably just an aftershock.

I’ve been through 4 or 5 strong quakes in Los Angeles during my life, so my initial reaction is to just keep getting ready to check out. No big deal.
This quake seems different though. I’m no expert, but this one is starting to worry me. I’m on the 17th floor of a 37 story hotel, and things are starting to get interesting. One, this quake is getting stronger. And two, it’s not going away. It’s lasting longer than any I have been in. I’m starting to get a bit worried, because it’s going on and on, and getting stronger and stronger. It goes on for seconds, on into minutes.

I figure I better start to take this one seriously and make plans to bug out of here. Actually, not much planning at all, I decide to get the hell out and rush to get my shoes and socks on. I stand up and find out I can’t stand.

The building is rocking so hard I fall back down on the bed. I get up and start to run to the door, and figure I better take some provisions with me. So I turn around and head back to grab my bags that have some food bars and water already packed in them. If I’m going to be stuck out on the street I want to have as much provisions as I can carry. Maybe a dumb idea, but maybe not.

As I try to gather up all my stuff, I notice how bad this earthquake really is. The room is creaking and moaning, cupboards are rattling, drawers are sliding, and I am falling down. This is really a bad one. I look out the window and can’t believe my eyes.

Another building across the street, maybe about 150 feet away, and another one beyond that, probably another 100 or 150 feet are moving. Really swaying. I mean REALLY swaying. I can see them moving 5 or 10 feet back and forth. The perspective is something that only Hollywood could produce. Massive buildings rocking back and forth.

Up to this point I wasn’t really scared, that is till I see those buildings moving. That sight brings a new reality to the situation. Now, I actually think that this might be my last moments on earth.
I am in a tall building that is rocking and rolling, and as far as I’m concerned, is acting like it will fall down any second. The quake has been going on not for just seconds, but for minutes, and seems like hours.

Now my mind is racing. I am starting to second guess every thought I have. Do I stay? Do I go? Do I leave everything? Do I take everything? What do I do? Where do I go?
My heart is racing, my adrenalin is pumping, and my legs seem to be getting weaker. This quake rocks on for about four minutes. FOUR MINUTES! That’s an eternity.

I make my decision and go for it. I grab my two bags and head out. My room is right next to a fire escape, and that’s where I head. I break the plastic lock cover off the door and try to open it. The lock won’t turn. I try harder. It finally turns and I get it unlocked. I try to open the door and it won’t open. The doorknob turns, but the door is wedged shut. I take a step back and put my shoulder into it. It finally pops open with a thud. I’m out on the balcony and head for the stairway door, but it’s hard to open as well. I finally get it open, and grab my bags to head down.

The second I start down, a hotel employee yells at me to come back. He tells me to go with him. So, I turn around and head back down the hallway, past my room, and into the employee section and stairwell. I start down. Carrying my bags is hard enough, but down stairs is harder, and down 17 flights is really hard. The employee is staying with me though, and offering to carry my bags. But I persevere and continue down, down, down till I finally come out in the lobby level. I’m sweating, winded, and still a bit scared.

Well, I feel safer now, being out of that building. Well not all the way out, but in the lobby at least. I meet with my co-pilot and some other United crews.
There are a lot of people all milling around now. We are supposed to go to the airport, but nobody really knows for sure.

Our taxi is here and ready, but I get hold of a phone and call United to see if they have a plan. Of course not. Well, it has only been 10 or 15 minutes since the quake and…. Oh shit, As I’m talking to the duty manager, an aftershock hits. A big one. I run out to the front of the hotel to get in the clear.

But in the middle of a big city downtown, there is no clear.
I can certainly see sky, but on the other hand I can see more buildings than sky. If one of those suckers decides to fall down, there is really no place to go.
It’s not long, and we find out that the hi-way is closed, the airport is evacuated, and then closed. We really have no place to go, so, we stay.

We still have water and electricity, so we are not as bad off as those poor people up to the north.
The rest of my day involves sitting in the hotel, on my computer trying to find out information, and riding out aftershocks. I eventually get another room on the 14th floor, which doesn’t make me very happy, and again ride out aftershocks all night long. Many, many aftershocks. I don’t sleep all night. My legs are still weak. My hands are still shaking.

Airports closed. Trains and subways stopped. Oil refineries on fire. Eleven nuclear plants shut down. Hi-ways closed.
Now I hear a nuclear plant not far away is loosing it’s cooling water, and a radiation leak is expected. The area is being evacuated.

I turn the TV off, turn the lights off and try to get some sleep, but it’s futile. The aftershocks are virtually continuous. They are not real strong, but go on and on and on. I timed a couple of them. One lasted 12 minutes, and another 9 minutes. There are a few moments of inactivity, but for the most part, it’s still rock and roll.

One reason for no sleep is the constant creaking in the floors, walls and ceiling. It’s amazing, even the slightest movement starts a constant crescendo of creaking. There is just no chance of sleeping, or even relaxing. My adrenalin I think has been pumping for 14 hours now. I’m weak, and shakey. I really gave my legs a workout coming down all those stairs too. They are pretty sore.

The news on the TV is just devastating. The quake was pretty bad, but the real damage seems to be coming from the tsunami. On top of that, there are a lot of fires breaking out too.
This is one of those natural disasters of epic proportion. And here I am, smack dab in the middle of it. Crap.

I phone United in hopes that they have a plan for us. Well, they do, and it’s not what I expect. They have us rescheduled to continue on our original schedule, just a day later. What? They are not getting us home? I can’t believe it. Well, maybe I can.

But from my perspective, It’s nuts to send us on. I have had about 10 hours sleep in the last 48 hours, with virtually no chance of getting any more. The building is just too noisy and moves too much to get any sleep. I talked to Mark, and he’s pretty much the same. So I’ll have about a day’s worth of sleep in 3 days. That’s just nuts. What the hell are they thinking?

But stiff upper lip and all that. Damn the torpedoes, and carry on. What a mess.
We eventually make it down to Singapore, a day late. I pass out once I hit the bed, but only sleep 5 hours. That makes about 20 hours of sleep in the last 85 or so. Mark and I are both exhausted. At least the hotel room isn’t swaying, although while laying in bed it seems like it is. Funny what your mind does to you.

It’s been 48 hours since the quake now, and I just pulled up my schedule. It shows us heading back to Narita (Tokyo) tomorrow morning. I haven’t talked to anyone at United, but from what I see on the news, I’m thinking that that is not such a great idea. Food shortages and power outages in Tokyo, not to mention at least two, and now maybe three nuclear plants in jeopardy of major damage and meltdowns.

I’ve had enough radiation exposure over the last year with all the CT scans I’ve had, I don’t want to fly through a radiation cloud and come home glowing green or growing a third eyeball in my forehead. I’ll talk to the co-pilot and we will make a decision before the morning flight. It will be a tough one.
My immediate plans for the rest of the day is to get a good meal, and a good nights sleep. I hope.

That’s about it from the war front. I guess I should ask that you don’t reply, at least for a while. I’m behind enough on my emails just being away from home for a week, not even counting all this mess. Hopefully I’ll make it home soon. Thanks for all your prayers, thoughts and support.
Dan.
–
Dan Delight
“If brute force doesn’t work, you’re not using enough of it”.

IN PLAIN SIGHT, 'on set' Albuquerque NM, Old Town

2011-03-08T18:44:00.000-08:00

I received an email from 'On line casting'. An offer for a casting call with TV's "In Plain Sight"

I am a member of OLC, but not the premium paid membership. After getting more instructions of set location and call time, I was hyped. Picked out three sets of 'wardrobe' and left early. The drive was about 30 minutes and 9:30 AM on Monday.

Arrived early, so I had a chance for a good plate of scrambled eggs and thick bacon. They make great bacon on most sets... especially if Mario's is catering. 'Sign in' completed, wardrobe checked OK, we loaded into the vans for transport to the 'set' in Old Town. Cold vacant 'store' building, but I found a small heater, curled up and took a nap in front of it. Folding chairs were limited, so I hoarded mine.

The young girls (future starlets) are in great shape anyway, they can sit on the floor, have discussions and repeat their favorite word... "Like"... thousands of times. "'Like' you know, 'Like', he goes....., and 'Like' I go".
How old do they get before they drop that childish habit?

After a prolonged wait (always lots of waiting as 'background'), we were eventually called for our scene after the Chapman and the Peewee 'dolly' tracks were reset (this track laying/relocating procedure is performed endlessly during filming).
The armed arrest with 'Mary', FBI, US Marshals Service and APD officers. At first no real action, just the preliminaries with the 'perp' walking to his clandestine meeting. Lots of angle shots using the 'ARRI' cameras with their large lenses, required a few moves from background table to table as two ladies and I sipped empty coffee cups, read the newspaper and were cordial.

After that was finished, we returned to the cold 'on set' holding area, while cameras were again set up. After more waiting (lots of waiting in movie work), we were called out for more 'background' action. Many takes of the handcuffed arrest after the 'take down'. 'Perp Walk' was shot from many angles and distances. Lots of vocalization and arguing between the various 'authorities' on this scene. It had to be redone many times due to 'line flubs', bloopers and lapses in timing.

We did background action while being restrained behind a police line. Met an official commisioned APD officer's wife. Beautiful girl, we discussed aspects of police work. Standing behind police line, pointing and mouthing words for an hour or so during many camera angles, we then eventually were sent to base camp for a fine buffet by Mario's Catering chow crew. Chicken, Fish, Prime Rib and all varieties of side dishes.

The food was great on this set. Most sets are very good as far as the 'feeding frenzy'. A few movie sets are low budget and poor, with basic protein such as peanut butter and bread. After the late lunch at 'base camp', (we only eat twice a day....but with lots of snacks) We returned to on set 'Extras Holding' for the waiting game. This crew is relatively fast at scene changing.

During the 'take down' on the second floor, the entire scene was chaos and yelling as they made the arrest. As 'background', I and others were crossing the streets below. Many calls of "Backgrond 'Action', 'Cut' then 'reset'.

It became routine to cross the street and then the other street, then 'reset' to positon one for another 'take'. About ten times later it was accepted. 'Extras Holding', 'on set', was another cold vacant store. Many portions and buildings in historic Old Town Albuquerque since the 'boom' ended and the economy has stagnated, have never re-started. Using 'Old Town' as a movie set is one use for this once prosperous area of the city.

During the past the real estate was premium, now it is falling into the realm of 'affordable' in realtor's terms. The crew moved us to a nice warmer loft (also vacant), but nearer the set we worked after dark. The temps fell, so the heated space was welcomed by all.

I met a few of the 'Background'. None were recognized from other films. I have not worked often during this last year. Few films are 'shooting in NM at this poor time, most are low budget with no pay.. "True Grit" was an exception. The financially strapped state of NM (like others) is intensely reviewing it's financial commitments. The new Governor, Suzana Martinez (R) is looking to save the budget by cutting loose spending practices from the last administration of Bill Richardson.

Bill Richardson's was the 'free spending', 'run for President' admin (D). Jet plane and all. Suzana has basically grounded the Cessna Citation XLT and put it up for sale (like Sarah Palin did with Alaska's). It is the jet that Bill ordered the Hwy Dept to purchase for his personal 'Politicking...' and close friends transportation immediately after he was elected.

The last use was for the State Film Commission to scout out a 'site'..figures. They are strongly lobbying and crowding the legislators meetings to save their lavish financial funding.. The state is trying to hold the spending limit within reason. The state's taxpayers kick in 25% of the funding for most films. The return is minimal... after a few sour deals that failed to repay, or spent their taxpayer provided funds out of state. Yep, they are sneaky in Hollywood.

This set was lastly in the little art and gift shop where Mary stops in periodically.
One line was an obvious 'put down', as the proprietor saw 'Mary' enter the shop. His remark was syrupy as he noticed her enter. "Mary have not seen you for a while'. 'You look so....Interesting". The scene was repeated several times with 'stand in' and then 'Mary', as the camera distances were measured and marker tape was placed on floor. I primarily had my back to her and was checking out the paintings and artwork as she entered then went into the back room.

After the last scene, we were 'cut and wrapped' then sent back to base camp for 'sign out'. Mistake, we (certain individuals) immediately were 'Un-wrapped', ordered into the van for return to set, and final re-take' of shop scene. On approval, we 'wrapped' once again and returned to 'base camp for sign out. 13.5 hours after arrival, I left the downtown area tired and wanting my own bed.

Life is great in NM. The USA is still "One Nation Under God". Lots of possibilities for entertainment while waiting for spring?

Workhorse-Bosch Recall

2011-03-05T06:48:00.000-08:00

I first received the Holiday Rambler Workhorse Bosch brake recall

notice last year. They were not sure just how the problem was to be remedied at the time. The 2004 Holiday Rambler 8.1 Liter gas coach was one of those designated for Bosch service brake caliper assy replacement. We never had any problem with our unit. We live and store the unit in the dry climate of the southwestern USA. New Mexico has all sunny days except for a few. I understand that the problem occurs more often in the higher humidity parts of the country, and then only after long periods of storage.

Workhorse referred us to ADVANTAGE AUTOMOTIVE

John gave us a tentative slot on the extensive list...three/four/five months out. He did say to call him if we were planning a trip. The last days of February came, so I called John as he recomended. The Third of March was open so I drove the Motor Coach to their shop and left it after it's release from winter storage. Marvel Mystery oil in the fuel, seems to ensure a fast start like the engine was just run yesterday. I also fired up the generator just to be sure. The fully automatic battery maintainers from Walmart, kept the cells in the chassis and coach batteries fully charged through the cold winter.

John explained that the brake problem was with the phenolic piston puck used in the cast iron cylinders of the caliper assys. They swelled slightly in moisture contaminated fluid. The replacement pucks in the caliper cylinder assys, are made of steel, as James showed with a magnet. John asked about several key services, seeing as the coach is at 55,000 miles. We agreed on the fuel filter replacement, being it is a Workhorse proprietary , three line part, original equipment, and soaks the mechanic underneath with gasolene, as it is being unbolted and changed.

I decided not to get gas soaked while under the coach, changing the filter on the side of a busy highway. John called for my OK at each stage as work progressed. The brake pads were about 3/4ths consumed. Within 15,000 miles, they would most likely require replacement, so I told John to go ahead and change them while installing the four new Bosch disc brake actuators, one at each wheel.

The large iron rotors were fine and no big cracks, like one set from another coach John showed me. With fuel costs gleefully advancing higher with the refusal of congress and this administration, to approve drilling, we may never be able to sell the coach anyway, so at least we can enjoy it until it is worn out.

In order to afford the RV lifestyle, I do almost all of my own maintenance, change oil, lube and basic repairs. John mentioned checking the front wheel lubrication reservoirs while they were exposed. I had already drained and replaced the brake fluid with the latest DOT 4 (higher temp rated) Synthetic. He recomended I bring a couple of more qts, if that was what I wanted again. He left me the 2 unopened qts of DOT 3 that Workhorse sent. When I went to pick up the coach at their modern well equipped, well lighted shop, I met Doug and James. Both had done their individual sections of expertise on the recall and service.

Driving home, the unit worked as new. Brakes may smoke a bit as they lap themselves in, according to John. I would recommend their shop anytime. Having connections to obtain parts, they are the last Workhorse authorised mechanics in Alb NM. The other two shops got fed up with the 'Govt Motors' aspect during the Union bailout fiasco in 2009.

Now to plan a little trip...after finishing the flood restoration project here at home that is wearing us down. Maybe our neighbor house sitter will finish up? The break will be welcome, away from the job that displaced us from room to room as work progressed.

The oil changes, I do myself while still agile. 6.5 qts of oil and the 15mm socket wrench for the drain plug, were carried to the coach, along with numerous wiping papers and rags. The five gallon bucket to collect the drain oil, is placed under the engine pan (note: do not drain the transmission fluid by mistake). The filter on the 5 speed Allison Transmission was needing changing. Called ahead for parts, then drove to where I found a Purolator filter at Pep Boys while buying the new Purolator gold premium oil filter for $5. The little Purolator transmission filter is made in China? It sells for $18 including taxes.

Seems like that simple little twist-on filter could be made in the USA? Of course the legalities, the taxes, the environmental issues and of course union demands, preclude much distasteful 'manufacturing' in the USA of today. Alas, we are being forced by political 'legalities' into the unenviable postion, including the consequences of being a debtor nation of consumers? ....sigh.

Everytime I crawled under the coach, I noticed something else needing attention. The left rear outside dual tire was flat due to the brake mechanic not getting the small pressure line tight enough on the valve stem (I located the leak with soapy water bubbles). After checking all of the other valve stems for leaks, I refilled all 6 of the tires to 110 PSI as spec.

The 6 excellent Michelins (22.5's) were all replaced two seasons ago. Crawling under once again, the grease gun's new snap fitting (made in China) did not fit the chassis Zerks. I had to crawl out, get a couple of crescent wrenches and change to the old end fitting for the new hose that I had installed on the gun last fall. Never toss the old 'stuff' until sure of the new 'stuff'.

The new Purolator transmission filter was then filled with Dexron before installation to prevent 'dry sump' during startup. Same for the oil filter. Zerk fittings are many, on this W-22 Workhorse chassis. Five Zerks on the segmented driveshaft universal joints (including splined slide) and 8 on the front suspension steering gear. Wiping each is mandatory before and after to control dirt contamination of the lubed parts. While in the back yard storage, I roll a carpet runner on the dirt, and move it frequently from position to position. In the street, the creeper works better.

The batteries showed signs of stress after a week of idleness (in spite of the solar array), so the Schumacher 'Smart Chargers' were again hooked up to maintain the four coach and one chassis battery.

The cost of fuel is high and rising, but due to political pressures, not going to get any cheaper. The debt ridden dollar is falling in value, so we figure to spend it on some fuel while visiting some history, some geography and great little communities as we are rolling across the United States of America. The greatest Nation ever in history. "One Nation Under God".

Flood Restoration, Do It Yourself

2011-02-24T08:31:00.000-08:00

Rooter Plus Plumbing and Heating LLC

sent Anthony to professionaly install the new freeze resistant outer hose spigots. After this freezing cold winter, rare in NM, we are taking no more chances, so had 'both' units replaced. The 1/2" copper tubes with the fittings were expertly installed. I placed a foam tube insulation over the tubing, packed the walls with new insulation. Son brought his sheetrock tools, then did an expert job fitting, taping and 'mudding' repair sections. Texture and paint will be neccessary later.

In later testing of the new 'Frost Proof' faucets, I found that they are greatly diminshished in volume of water. The original outside silcocks were capable of shooting a water stream from a 5/8" hose, a considerable distance. In retrospect I should have had the larger diameter 'washer valve' (commercial?) silcocks installed. Experience is not a nice teacher.

After using the shop vacs to their fullest, we are down to the replacement mode in carpet. Our choice of laminate flooring in two rooms, with wife getting her nice soft carpet in two rooms. Checking all available prices and qualities at several flooring stores, we settled on some diverse solutions.

The carpet is coming from, and being installed by Jim's company Floors and More Inc

The 12.5 MM mahogany Laminate is from Raby Carpet and Tile Inc

The felt underlayment is from Enchantment Flooring

We had overlooked the transition molding and have ordered it from Raby's per Jim's advice. At least it can be installed last under doors and entranceways.

You Tube per son's advice, had several installation videos, some were jokes, other's worthwhile. The Lowe's series seemed to be helpful. One comment suggested the 'Installer' be our next president. I think he could do the job better than what we have at the time... Lowe's plastic tape, precision formed plastic hammer block, their 1/4" spacers and the padded Pull Bar looked useful. The deadblow hammer, though nice, cost close to $20 so it was bypassed for my rubber mallet.

One appraised cost of 2 rooms of laminate, certified installation was $950...more than the cost of flooring, so it is definetly a do it ourself project. Number One son is the appointed crew chief. He was always very talented with Legos as a youngster. That alone is the qualifier, as far as we are concerned. He did an excellent job when we had him crew the tile installation in our bathroom. The fact that he owns Crown Coachworks

should be a plus.

We borrowed a neighbor's table saw. It is a must have, to rip the laminate boards. the closet is done to 'Lego spec' in one room now. The 'tilt snap click' of each adjoining board, is very important. If not done, the bevel edges of adjoining boards are not level.

The You Tube vids indicate a 1/2 board length cut to start. They run along the left wall as you enter the room. I found this to be slightly erroneous, as the doorway is sometimes more complex and to start there, often works out better. Laying each consecutive laminate board is a simple 'tilt snap click'..very important. Leave a 1/4" expansion space at sides and ends of flooring against walls and at 'transition' channel. The temporary little spacer blocks are usefull along walls. Laying heavy full boxes of laminate on top of the first three rows you have in place, holds them firmly while the rest of flooring is installed. The laminates tend to 'float' otherwise.

We cancelled the order for 3 'transition' ends to carpet. Son figured that we could easily transition by starting the run from the closet glide door rail entrances, ending at the back wall. The only Transition to carpet required, was at the two entrance doorways. One six foot 'trans' was enough to cover both entranceways. The old baseboard was salvaged then painted, and went down easily over the 1/4" gap to wall, required for expansion of the flooring.

The base 'felt' with plastic membrane, was plastic taped and seamed after cutting. Membrane down, facing concrete, per most recomendations. Of course we cleaned the concrete well before laying the felt. Son is great at trimming out the corners around door jams. He has a critical eye for seams and joints. One little mistake in setting the first board has a joint slightly out of line. He didn't like it, but I don't think it is noticeable.

When he has customers drop off their wrecks for Collision repair, they take little notice of their own door dings collected over time. When they return for pick up of their pride and joy cars, they sure are fussy, noticing every 'old' flaw on sections other than where the damage was, insisting they weren't there before. This attention to detail carries over into his newly aquired flooring trade.

My painting skills were put to work. One room had not been painted for many years. Walmart paint had that thick feel when you shook the can, without the high price that accompanied it in other paint stores. Walmart's Glidden ceiling paint covered the thirsty 'popcorn' in one gallon. The helpful man from the automotive dept is a 'jack of all trades'.

He has always helped us out on automtive and tool purchases. His 'paint dept' hat fits well. He added more whitener to give the ceiling a brighter look. Walmart's 'Color Place' Satin wall paint came out to cover the entire wall surface with one coat and is easy to clean according to our helpfull paint dept at Walmart. Good stuff and the price was right. Fluffy 'stucco' rollers did a great job on both ceiling and walls.

The dingy old electric sockets were loose internally, the appliance and computer plugs fell loose often. Samon's electric had the latest safety 'code' decorator switches and sockets with little doors in the slots for the same price as the old style.

The installations all went well, even though the aluminum wire required a bit of oxguard dope on each connector. The much overhyped 'fire danger' from aluminum wire, proved to never be a major problem. Our subdivision area of thousands of homes from the 1970's is completely 'Al' wire and NO homes have burned. Some socket and switch connectors came loose, got crispy and failed from the poor connections and overloads. Copper pig tails and oxguard fixed them.

The baseboards and trim are getting scars patched and new paint. I am now laying the other room floor, following our son's Lego routine. It should proceed well following his learning curve of the very important 'tilt snap click' to get perfect alignment. Starting point is the entrance doorway on this room. Measuring the first board for 1/2 cut of finished surface, is keeping in mind to flip the board, end for end for mark and cut, so the cut edge is the exposed threshold end.

The cutoff piece is saved for use at other end of next row. Always cut off the end that is NOT to be locked into position (such as walls) away from Joining surfaces. A 'Transition' piece will cover the cut edges under doors where carpet or tile meets laminate. Closet joints will match...if I do pre-layout correctly.

Picked up the 'transition' strip from Connie at Raby's today. It was not of the highest quality that comes with metal channel. This manufacturer uses plastic channel mounted (in this case concrete drilled, anchored and screwed) to floor under doors, and does not grip the wood finished transition strip with sufficient force to prevent flexing and creaking.

Frank, always the professional carpet layer, discarded the flimsy plastic channels and glued the doorway transition thresholds, directly to the concrete and laminate cut ends, for a tight perfect transition. Frank did an exquisite job of laying the high quality new carpet over white 'Glacier' pad.

Working the entire job alone, he 'hot joined' the seams, carefully aligning the 'nap' in one direction throughout the halls and rooms. Stretching a 'high pick' backed, quality carpet is tough and he was sweating. I had removed much of the 'tack strip' in flooded areas, due to it's moldy black look. The remaining, I bleached with Clorox to ensure no contamination. Frank had to reinstall many new tack strips with an epoxy caulk.

All is finished, and remaining carpet is installed. Called Kevin our neighborhood yard man to assist in the heavy relocating of furniture. Now it can be moved from the rest of house, into it's rightful position. He works an hour at a time due to his main yard jobs. Wife is a bit overwhelmed by the mess, as I. We know "It is like eating an elephant...one bite at a time".

As 'Citizens' of the United States of America, we are blessed to even own a home. Most of the world's countries with their 'socialized' economy, allow no such luxury for it's 'Subjects', as is demonstrated daily around the globe.
Only in the USA, "One Nation Under God" do we take it for granted.

Frozen and Flooded -36F

2011-02-13T13:21:00.000-08:00

The lowest temperature day ever recorded across parts of the state of New Mexico dropped to -36 degrees Farenheight about 03 Feb 2011. In 1971 it only got to -20F for one week. Disaster was widespread in the normally Sunshine state of New Mexico, back then as well as now again... this time, parts of the state lost natural gas pressure due to 'rolling electrical brownouts' in Texas. All of those supposedly CO2 Green Wind Turbines just can't 'cut it'..? Whodaguessed?

Friday February 4th was our day for grocery shopping. After a mgr. promoted, nearly free lunch at Applebees, then grocery stop, we returned to a flooded hallway and two bedrooms. The sheetrock wall was blown loose, with a deluge from a burst outside hose spigot feed line. My wife yelled OH NO 'shut off the water'. I ran to the garage and grabbed the street shutoff key. She yelled 'Hurry' as if I was moving too slowly.

The sidewalk meter cover was buried under the snow from the storm (we had over 10"), so a minute was lost locating and digging it clear. Finally shut off, I ran in to check the flood. An inch of water was in the hallway and computer office/bedroom. A call to number two son, found his 16 gallon Craftsman Shop-vac. Son stopped in after work to check on our progress, help move a bed, cedar chest and file cabinet, then returned again with another Craftsman shop vac unit to assist.

Many dumpings of the cannisters later, we were finally not walking in water. My emergency trip to the Lowes plumbing dept almost proved fruitless. The crowds of desperate do it yourselfers were ten deep. The little display mounted fittings that show what each box contains, were all being stolen from their screw mounts. Crisis mob desperation? No spare parts were left in bins to repair the 1/2" copper tubing. My desperate look, attracted one of the plumbing dept helpers that the store mgr graciously kept overtime.

He grabbed the last interior press-on valve shut-off, and told me to just cut off and clean the pipe and press it over the end to temporarily shut off the water line. That done, I was able to turn on the outside feed line pressure, while son held his hand on the fitting and watched for any failure..success.

The carpets and area rugs were still soaked, so for the next four days we sucked water with the vacs, then alternately reversed the vacs and blew air under the pads to attempt a drying. No commercial 'air movers' were available. A local yard and paint man, assisted me with the rest of the furniture moving.

The house now looks like a furniture storage warehouse with piles of 'stuff' everywhere. The carpets were so wet, they each weighed hundreds of pounds. Wife called Hartford Insurance co. Lady said to start on it ourselves to limit damage, keep records of expense, and she gave us names of a few companies specializing in such floods.

Predictably due to the statewide disaster, they were all so busy, that no chance of even getting on a list. Wife then found a company called 'Precise Carpet'. They sounded so promising on the phone, and eventually showed up.... a day later. Three men, two vehicles, they stood around, shook their heads and carried out the one pad we had already dried and exposed in one room.

They moved a small safe from one room to another and sprayed around the baseboards a few seconds from a little can of clorox disinfectant. The one pad was then tossed into the front yard. Shock followed their bill for $284 dollars for 40 minutes of 'whatever' later. The notation that they would return the next day and pick up the pad and take to the dump.... for $150 dollars more..., educated us in the term 'Crisis Profitability'.

I called their office and left the message 'your work is done at this house' (they never called back). Another big plumbing co used by the city of Albuquerque, 'TLC' is presently charging 'Triple time' during this statewide emergency, so further beware of 'crisis predators' in this commercial society.

The excellent 16 gal Craftsman Vac suffered distress during the extended job, so Sears was called. Great guy at the main store 'EJ', said bring it in. He carried out a new unit for exchange. Wonderful to do business at Sears. Due to our long endless hours of personal laborious attention, floors and carpet now dried before 72 hour mold set in, the busy Insurance adjuster showed up.

Another great and helpful guy with Hartford. He took measurements and notes of all damaged areas, and copies of our initial bills, including the 'crisis' padded bill from 'Precise Carpet'. Said Hartford was swamped statewide... literally, but that a check would probably be in the mail. The plumber is coming on monday to install freeze proof shutoffs in front and back. With ever colder winters (Global Warming sarcasm), we don't want to go through this again.

The computer is now set up on the dining room table. Printer is still hiding somewhere until it's home is finished. My painter/helper is allowing some time for reassembly of furniture after room repaints are ready.

Shopping for replacement carpeting is a pleasure. Every store had helpfull people with excellent information about quality and price, wood versus laminate, installation methods and materials. Decision is now for some snap-click laminate floors, that I can do myself, and some carpeting to be professionally installed.

It has been over a week now, and ready to start laying the laminate in two rooms. Underlay padding choice will be tomorrow. Still have decision of carpet and pad to equal what was destroyed. My totally worn out wife is getting tired of the maze of furniture. :More later as project continues..

Such is exciting life in the United States of America. "One Nation Under God"

CATARACT SURGERY before and after

2011-02-01T20:26:00.000-08:00

Finally after years of diminishing vision causing snowflakes and halos around headights and tailights of cars at night. Not being able to read street names. Seeing double and blurred letters on the hazy computer screen. 6 and 0 having the same rounded look as number 9..

The instrument panel, back to road refocus while driving, was non-existant. Not recognizing my wife waving from a distance in stores really got her upset. The cellphone screen was a blur for several long seconds of refocus and concentration.

Having trouble reading small print on containers, while checking the actual ingredients for bad stuff, like 'High Fructose Corn Syrup'. No longer enjoying reading books before bed. TV images not clear, with failure to recognise 'the Bad Guy' from the good guy. Handgun firing range scores, not anywhere like in years past.

All of the above and more, convinced me it was time to get the old worn out cloudy lens removed from my left eye. My hesitation was justified by my own mother's failed procedure many years ago. A woman eye Dr, who has since left the state of NM and moved to Washington state, incompetantly blinded mom's eye.

During the failed operation, Mom heard Dr Betty H. say the equivelent of 'Whoops' and panic set in. After meeting a dozen of that woman Dr's failures while working for a senior center, mom was relieved to meet Dr Cannon and Dr Wienstein. The two Dr's saved mom's remaining eye.

My eye Doctor verified that it was time to remove the cataract lens, so I made an appointment with Southwest Eyecare

The day came quickly and they confirmed through their further tests that the lens was truely cloudy and needed replacement surgery.

We set up a day, one week later for consultation and computerized measurements for the correct lens curvature. I was given a prescription for the two different anti-bacterial eyedrops ($150) and told to start them every two hours the evening before surgery.

During consultation, Doctor Paul Sanchez

had me hold out my hands with thumbs touching and forefingers together. I was told to look through the spade shaped opening at the wall switch. He then covered my right eye.

The light switch dissappeared. He said my right eye was obviously dominent for distance, as it is on most right handed people. He recomended that I have the implanted left lens curvature set as an intermediate distance to include fairly close vision. Reading glasses will most likely be required for closer work.

My right eye was the primary distance vision. He said that it would fool my brain if the lens was set for distance in the left eye. We don't want to fool our brains with technology. Not a good idea. When the right eye is done next, it will maintain it's job and even improve as the distance champ.

A small kit with the proper eye shades and firm taped night cover, including instructions, were my $10 requirement. All was going as anticipated according to friends that had sucessfully gone through the procedure at southwest Eyecare. No food at least six hours before. This morning my wife accompanied me as the neccessary driver, to the eye surgery facility at the Presbyterian North medical facility, AAESC 5901 Harper Dr NE Alb NM 87109.

We left during the early morning snowfall from the big storm that was crossing the nation. 6:45am arrival was nice because no traffic was clogging the streets. Sign in at front office, verify suplemental insurance and Medicare, Identity sticker placed over left eyebrow to ensure no mistaken surgery. My blood sugar was even tested by Karen. How much more caring does it get? :>)

Leave all valuables and coat with my wife in pleasant waiting room, and quickly I was whisked into the prep room. Anna with her 40 years of experience, set up the 'eye lid open' retaining system and inserted the IV into back of my hand for administering sedative.

Within minutes, the gurney was rolled into the Operating room and Doctor Paul Sanchez began his procedure. The anesthesiologist started to inject the mild sedative through the IV.

I could clearly hear the team talking while the bright light was focused into my eye. Doc told me to hold very still, don't wiggle feet, don't talk. The light had a focal point of three small squares with some blurred striations.

He then used a hollow needle to suction out the old lens he had broken up with an ultra sonic vibration. No vibration was perceived through the desenitized eye. The old lense was a little darker and firmer than he anticipated, but no real problems getting the lens chamber cleaned out.

With a wetting solution periodically applied, Doc inserted the rolled up Intraocular lens

through the one mil opening. It then opens like a tiny two winged galactic disc, to fill the sack where the old worn out crystaline lens had once been.

I was watching as the three small blurry squares in the center of the bright light, became well defined cubes with little stacked sections like a bisquit. Already the images were improving.

After declaring success, Doc set a temporary contact lense in place to cover the one millimeter opening that he had worked through. It was to make the tiny hole less scratchy during the healing. The nurse applied a perforated metal covering to the eye, as I quickly regained limited vision.

Excellent coffee was brought to my hand. My wife was called in to return my personal effects. Walked out to waiting car by Anna, wife drove me home where breakfast was welcome. After eating and checking the computer for whatevers, I crawled into bed and slept for a couple of hours.... No Pain.

Doctor Paul Sanchez called me this evening to ask about my condition. "All Excellent" was my response. He told me that he sleeps better knowing that all went well. He did eight surgeries today. Most days he does ten, but had two 'storm' cancelations. He gave a reminder that 7 AM tomorrow is the day after follow up, for any problems.

Doc said to take off the perforated metal cover and try out the new eyesight tonight. Keep up the eyedrop routine for one day. Place the firm cover for sleeping. No adverse pressure or wiping of eye with fingers. No soapy bath water in eye for a week. I don't like soapy water in eyes at any time..

Amazing how things are so clear now. Arabic numerals on the clock across the room, are not blurs. The computer words are seemingly surrealistic and in 'Bold' appearing print. A slight 'rosey' tint is to be expected for a time. I can now shift my gaze from the screen to the keyboard and back, with no refocusing problems.

The formerly ivory tinted background on the 'confuser' :-) screen, is now brilliant white...through the left lens. The partially cataract blurred right eye lens still sees the screen as Ivory. On this black backgroound blog, the type is silvery white now, Whereas before and through the right eye, appears a dull ivory. The old original lens was crystalized and yellowed and in need of replacement. Reminds me of the car headlights that get aged and yellow.

Have not yet tried out the night vision. Over the counter, lubicant eyedrops are a temporary regimen to maintain the clarity and comfort. I will let you know about any changes. so far it is a drastic improvement. Over 8 various people were involved in the process. I will further document any up dates and get back to post them :>) Cheers my friends.. BTW I make far fewer errors while typing...Far Fewer. I Was practically blind........

In order to break the increasingly blurred images, I often had to shift my gaze around the room and return to the screen every few minutes. Contrary to before, the ambient light from the flat screen is now enough to clearly illuminate the keyboard.

The two prescription drops are now being put in place every four hours. One following day of treatment followed by three more weeks of care, should then have eysight settled into focus. After that, any lense corrections can be made on glasses.... if even needed. At this particular early point, with 20-25 in left eye according to the tech, I see better now than at any time 'In My Life'. Eyesight is a marvelous 'Gift'.

Today 2 Feb 2011, I also met Dr Cannon

who initiated this procedure in New Mexico years ago. After 20 years, I finally met one member of the team that saved mom's remaining eye. Thank You Dr Cannon. Thank you also for a lifetime of upholding your family tradition of traveling to South America on Missionary trips to save eyesight of those living in depressed areas.

One week later:
My appointment with Dr Sanchez at 7am went less than perfect. I had been handed a schedule as I left the surgery center. On it was a line drawn through the third day referring to the continuation of the eyedrops..... Bad interpretation.

Thinking that the drops were no longer important, I reduced their dosage to once a day for comfort. Dr Sanchez examined my eye and said OK re-start the schedule to four times a day and keep it up for a week. After that week, discontinue the one type of drops and continue the other type for three more weeks.

I had narrowly escaped getting an infection. My eyesight suffered a setback on the vision test. The other rule was to not lift anything over 25 pounds. Our house flooded from a frozen pipe and I had no options.

Again I did the wrong things. Hopefully the eyesight will recover from my indescretions. Rule: eye drops, eye drops, eye drops and NO lifting. Eye seems to be recovering vison now that the restarted regimen of drops is being followed. Vision is getting clearer each day.

Eye drops are doing their job. At $255 they should be pretty potent. One tiny botle ran out almost immediately requiring a refill. I complained to the Costco pharmacy mgr. She called the company and they agreed to replace the bottle. I am getting the right cataract removed and replaced this next month so it will be used then. The recent $27 billion dollar 'extortion' from the pharmaceuticals by this present administration under Obamacare, of course has to be passed on by added costs to the paying customers..

What an amazing health care system was currently in place in this United States of America. The dedication and attention to detail of my entire team of approximately 10 friendly people, was second to none. The Presbyterian North AAESC facility was simple yet immaculate. Their overall service and devoted attention was Excellent.

The latest high technology apparatus used in this state of the art procedure, required expert skills which this experienced team had in abundance at every stage of the testing and surgery. Their dedication turns this modern marvel of science and engineering, into routine, resulting in eyesight far better than I ever had in my entire life. Dr Sanchez is now scheduling my other eye. He says with the restored vision, I willmost likely not require glasses for the rest of my life. What a miracle.

Even the attractive receptionist at Southwest Eyecare was great to the previously cloudy lensed eyes of this old Geezer. Bet she looks better each next visit.

Health Care 'Change' and 'Hopeiness' under this new president was mentioned with trepidation by my team... 'after' I mocked the 'presumed' neccessity for it.

We all desire to see the number of states that are questioning this ponderous newly 'Socialized' program, increase in vocal agreement to Abolish it. The 2010 elections have now sent an earthquake through this current power base now presiding. 2012 will further shake up this present regime's 'Agenda' of lowest common denominator...sub prime performance.... Socialism.

Another wonderful day of Exceptionalism in presently 'world class' Health Care, while living as a legal Citizen in this United States of America, "One Nation Under God"

Horse of History

2011-01-08T16:35:00.000-08:00

Deer, like people, tend to somehow tell their immediate family (quite large family/herd) about some special treat they just discovered.. Sweet Feed.. Carmel Corn:>) Horses were maybe different? they followed the leader to the chow.

After work, I often got home in the dark, changed clothes and would head for the horse and tractor barn to do evening chores. Dozens of winter chickens had roosted for the night in glassed south side during earlier years. Spring mail orders grew the flocks into the hundreds..

The mounts roamed their pasture by day but were inside on their half of the barn to escape the bitterly cold, below zero nights. They always snorted deep and stomped anxiously for my arrival. I walked the frequently shoveled deep snow trail to the back barns, carrying two five gallon buckets of fresh water. Both were needed to replace solid ice cylinders I routinely dumped from their frozen containers. An impressive collection built up like an ice palace and accumulated on the outside waiting for spring.

After forking the wet heavy straw from their stall onto the outside manure pile, I climbed into the loft, tossing down a bale of fresh straw to spread on the thick wooden floor. Tossing down a bale of fresh hay and breaking it into biscuits, filled their wall rack. The excitement of the chores kept them stirring around trying to be first in line, as if the first bite was the tastiest.

Snorting around their feed trough, kept them interested while I tore into chunks a couple of dry bread loaves from the salvage bakery and mixed it into their molases laced sweet feed. I would at times eat a small handfull of 'sweet feed' treat while prepping it for the mounts. They were always sticking their big heads over my shoulder and nuzzling to try and get a preview nibble from my hand.

With a little imagination their warm breath and heavy winter coats turned them into Hungry Bears in the darkness. Their large warm shaggy bodies made the barn, which was now deep in fresh straw, nice and cozy. The straw and hay storage loft, filled in the Fall, acted as insulation to retain their body heat. The rescued vagrants from 'the Killers' really appreciated their home. When found, most had been very neglected.

Folks yearn for a horse, dreaming of the glamour and how They will look astride a beautiful mount. Like a new fad exercise machine, they really pay attention to it....for a while. After time and newness wears off, the intensive daily care and never ending expense becomes a now undesired reality. "The bigger they are, the more they eat". The once generous and fun to dispense feed ration, is cut back drastically to shave costs and time. Neglect soon turns to outright Abuse. All to quickly, the at one time prized animal, is derelect, in ill health and tossed aside.... Discarded like a broken toy.

One in particular was previously owned by a neighbor that never had the time to ride or take care of this, at one time impressive, very big Chestnut Mahogany mount.

After anxiously watching this great animal degrade for months outside with no shelter and seeing the pile of corn stalks (with no corn) laying on the ground under his feet, we finally talked the man into selling this once noble beast. His niece, my school mate, talked him into selling before the big Gelding died and became a total liability. Fortunately his teeth were still intact, with no abcesses. After a regimen of intestinal 'worm' medicine, along with carefully measured, high carb, high protein laden diet with nice fresh hay, gradually plumped out his sagging hide, concealing his ribs, he looked much better.

Getting all of his bones covered in some healthy fat and muscle, while getting his 'sled runner' hooves cut off, trimmed back (with farrier help) and treated daily, he slowly became fit for riding. Some many weeks later, after he regained some of his muscle, I finally slipped a Western style Curb Bit

bridle with a copper roller 'taster', on him, adjusting the headstall 'Poll' pressure and lip 'rolls' for his large head. He immediately enjoyed the 'taster' roll over his tongue, and settled down to play with it. While he was distracted, I grabbed a big handfull of mane and swung aboard bareback.

I neck reigned, he immediately turned the opposite direction. His ride was atrocious and bounced my 'Western' butt all over. After I threw on the doubled saddle blanket and low cantle western plains saddle, it was even worse. Turned out that he had been a registered Five Gaited English Driving Gelding, once used for pulling light, wheeled and sleigh runnered conveyences or riding to the hounds....with an English riding saddle

Out of survival, I 'cross reigned' through my fist wrist action and quickly learned to 'Post' on my low cantle Western Saddle

The old Stetson and jeans seemed really out of place 'Posting' while patrolling along the fields and trails, on that really large 1,000 lb Gelding.

A neighbor girl friend who also kept a pet Racoon (a little bit wild herself ;>), rode an even larger and more powerful wild eyed stallion, 'Gaylord' that was darker in coloration. He was extremely impressive, a proud and menacing looking mount, obviously of Tennessee

heritage ready for riding into, and surviving historic battles. She carried a heavy club on a lanyard to bat him back down on occasion he reared up to throw her off. Close your eyes and imagine a mounted Officer, flashing saber held high, leading a Cavalry charge.... That was the obvious heritage of 'Gaylord'..

Prince the big Gelding, was of far more civilized aristocracy, he shifted gears like my British motorcycles. Five up and five down. Each light 'spur' took him up, and a short tug on reins took him down... one 'gear' at a time.

He was a mature ride that is for sure. His experience with various riders over his lifetime, taught him to treat everyone 'Up', like they were 'His' students. His ability to instinctively handle every new situation with a steady and calm reaction, became obvious after many uneventful patrols of the surrounding county pastures, swamps, fields and trails.

Then came one windy and frozen, below zero afternoon, normal for the upper midwest. We had uneventfully crossed an irrigation flood control channel that was solidly iced over. After a couple of hours of patrolling the fields and woodlots, we turned and headed back. It was late dusk and winter darkness was fast approaching. The barn was still a substantial distance away, but he was excited about the evening chow and nice fresh hay in the barn with the other mounts.

The big Gelding was having a good 'blow', stepping out lively. We began to re-cross the wide frozen channel at a clip......then the unthinkable happened, the snow covered ice broke through. I found myself up to my waist and sinking into swirling, frozen black water and ice. The big guy 'Prince', immediately without hesitation lurched and leaped forward through the thick ice, breaking it away as he jumped onto each section. My only salvation was to lean far forward over his mane, giving him his head while clenching my legs onto his withers and hang onto the mane engulfed pommel horn.... and Pray.

With each great leap he broke away through the thick ice and battled his way closer to shore. Then like a huge enraged cat, virtually clawed, leapt and surged his way up the near vertical, steep and long bank. With me clinging on for dear life, he stretched like a racing champion on the final straightaway, and galluped all out, the considerable distance back to the barn.

The big Gelding was needing no further encouragement from me. I just hung on like riding a powerful motorcycle. The sub zero icey wind froze the water soaked parts of us into a sheet of ice like a coat of armor. My legs were frozen popsicles from my belt down, and my jeans were frozen stiff to the saddle like unbendable metal fenders. The big Gelding was hot and steaming like a powerful locomotive, but still pounding hooves on the frozen terrain passing rapidly under us.

He and I both were covered in glistening icicles similar to 'chain mail', as we galloped up the roadway, cutting around the barn and in through the open doorway. I had to duck down to stay aboard. I cracked loose from the ice covered saddle and slid off, shivering like a dog passin' razor blades. Shaking so hard that I barely got him unbridled, pulled out his cinch, unsaddled, and dropping his crystalized rigging on the floor.

No strength left in my frozen body to give him a well deserved burlap bag rub down. I tore off a couple of bisquits of hay, and gave him his 'generously overfilled' can of feed. I was too frozen to add in any additional treats. I then clomped down the snow covered trail like a frozen robot. Stumbling back to the house, I collapsed in a frozen heap, laying on top the old floor furnace to thaw.

At the time, I thought for sure we were both gone'rs. Especially as we were sinking into that swirling deep black water. I was sure we were going to be fast frozen, trapped under the ice in that remote hell forsaken channel,.... only to be found in the spring thaw..

Surprisingly, the next day's ride preparation, like all of our others, was again exciting for him. The big mahogany Gelding seemed to have dismissed our previous day's nearly fatal patrol. Slipping the bit into his mouth and during the saddling up, He excitedly danced around in anticipation like always, ears perked, looking forward to some new adventure on our daily patrol. Later years, I try to have learned something from that battle of near death experience, besides Caution and Awareness,... a fantastic positive attitude.....or poor memory :>)

Good old 'Prince' One of my most memorable mounts, Big Prince went on to work with a prominent local horse trainer. She would strap the younger, misbehaving horses to him. He would then literally drag them through his daily workout routine. They eventually got the idea that it was better to obey his rider's commands and not fight the program. He was a fine teacher. :>)

One more small story of rural life in the greatest Freedom loving nation, The United States of America, One Nation Under GOD :>)

Concealed Carry Certification, Recertify New Mexico

2011-01-01T13:36:00.000-08:00

Wow, cold enough to render a brass monkey sterile in New Mexico this morning. It was 14 degrees on the Rio Rancho west mesa. Son and myself met Reid Haskamp OMEGA DEFENSE

Reid is a Sandoval county Sheriff's Deputy and our Xe (Blackwater) TI, 09:00, Sandoval County Sheriff's Office. The ride to the Sheriffs Del Norte Gun Club range was cold and across crunchy, snowy mesa roads. On arrival at the automated gate that recognizes Reids ID badge, we park and enter the nice warm training room, We promptly were mistakenly fingerprinted for later (two years later:>) and did a review of the current rules of... 'The Game'..

Certain laws have changed. We are now allowed to carry into 'boutique' beer and wine dining establishments. Utah's popular CCW is no longer recognized in NM, the financially impaired (not quite bankrupt) state of NM is now desperate for the revenue. Strange that NM issues driver's licenses to Illegal aliens, but will not recognise FBI certified Utah CCW holders? Hopefully the politically powerful NRA will soon convince Freedom Preserving legislators to finally acknowledge the Second Amendment and universal reciprocity 'Nationwide'.

We then Reviewed the scenario for 'A Good Shoot'. An Obvious danger to Citizen, before being allowed to fire to remove the threat. A knife wielding attacker is able to cover 25 feet and be slashing and stabbing, before your weapon can be drawn in defense.
Check for Clear background before firing weapon at threat. IE: Don't blaze away at the wrong stuff, babys in backpacks, moms with strollers, innocent folks eating ice cream cones, store clerks, old grannys....at least the old untatooed ones that don't draw down on us first.

As Certified Concealed Carry Citizens, we gotta' let the bad guys pull some serious s---, threatening our, or other's lives, before we can end their DNA replication and permantly drain their gene pool. Only after dispatching the threat do we sweep the area, with weapon at the 'ready', to break the tunnel vison and restore concentration for resolving the 'Aftermath'.

Believe me, in today's litigation obsessed society, there will be an Aftermath. It will definitely Change your life.
One local case last year, left the armed Citizen that defended himself, with over $20,000 in legal bills. That was with the charges 'dropped'. Think of what it would have cost him, if the case had actually gone to court..

Career violent repeat offenders have no such problems. Their costs of defense are all taxpayer funded.. Lawyers (defense as well as prosecution) and Social Workers absolutely Love and work very hard to keep the Career Criminal circulating in society. Woe be to anyone that removes them from the US legal system's 'food chain'. As noted, the legally armed Citizen will pay...

After classroom and exchanging a lot of chatter from the streets, we drove over to the shooting partitions behind the berm. Reid likes to practice his high speed driving 'in reverse'. The international 'bad guy' roadblocks he rapidly backs away from, are way too often, shooting at him.

We then backed into the shooting bay and Reid set up his targets with the official sized 12" x 18" body mass white papers. We loaded our magazines for the range. Our fingers were now shaking in the cold. Reid's first order called out 'Go Hot' as he watched me insert the 9mm's magazine and Tap it solidly into position like he taught us two years ago

I chambered the first round by smartly snapping back and releasing the 9mm's slide.... "At the Ready"

Then he ordered... 'Gun'. We had no large audience like the entire classroom of first lessons, so we took our time and fired deliberately. 15 rounds found the 'central body mass'. After several 'triple taps' (Mozambique Drill), the target went Submissive and no longer presented a serious threat.

An 'at the ready' sweep of the immediate area to break the 'tunnel vision' and to dispatch secondary threats, would not have been of any use, my magazine was empty. As for the target, the intense firing 'took the starch out of it's britches'. My magazine holds all 15 rounds, so I stepped back while son entered his second magazine of another 7 rounds.

If I say so myself, we smartly smoked our targets. That was at 3 yards position one, firing cycle of fifteen rounds. Next we stepped back to position two, 7 yards. Case history indicates that most all personal firearms combat is between 3 to 7 yds.. Repeat stage two with reloaded magazines of ten rounds this time. Reid again ordered "Go Hot... At the Ready", and then 'Gun'... which we did..... even better.

Coming into our stride, we were really ready to poke serious holes in paper.. Now our target 'bad guy' was pretty leaky. Looked like the daylights were shining through the 25 holes. Of course with wooden furring strips for legs, he was still standing. Reid gets upset when anyone shoots his targets legs.

We couldn't use the range table today. It had several glancing holes in it from an unknown shooter preceeding our two year review. Apparently 'whomever' went to set down a 'hot' weapon while finger on trigger and it discharged.... several times at a close angle. Hmmm interesting..how did they do that? Will it be on You Tube?

After our first weapon of choice, we switched to our second, while Reid replaced our papers. My secondary was the little 38 special revolver belonging to wife. Reid holding my ammo bag with hands in his pockets, noticed my frozen fingers starting to shake He took control of the 38 and rapidly ejected and loaded the revolver for each consecutive five, to give me a total of 25 fired rounds to qualify. The little revolver only holds five rounds, but packs a man stopping wallop with each shot.

I now am re-certified for 9mm or smaller semi-automatic and 38 cal or smaller revolver. Now to send the signed paper work in to the state of NM for the next two years extension of my Concealed Carry Weapon certification.

Reid lately deploys to mountainous Afghanistan often and likes it lots better than Iraq. It is not so unbearably hot in summer. The reason he survives so well, is that the Xe (Blackwater guys) do not wear uniforms. They 'Go Native' while hunting down and convincing the excessively violent Taliban tribal leaders to 'play nice'. Going Native (Turbins beards and such) they fear most, the Army convoys 'bulletizing' them.

Mexico missions to counter violence, and protecting diplomats is a never ending job for Xe, no matter what the main stream media reports. The main stream news has no idea... or pretends not to know. They depend on their protection as well....if they ever desire to get the 'real' news and then return to their families. Reid loves his work. The Bad guys try to Not share in his passion, at least if they are lucky they don't.

His pretty wife understands. She worked in the same 'profession' when they met. Now her only pleasure is the kids and grandkids. Oh yea, one more, She is martial arts CCW and always on alert for local bad guys, as she innocently visits the mall and dines out.. Well trained, confident pretty Daughter, like her father, is martial arts CCW as well :>)

Time to shake hands with Reid after hearing tales of our Sandoval County Sheriff's recent dilemmas and consequential removal from office, makes our frequent visits with Reid even more interesting. See you at the next protectors of Freedom Gunshow Reid, it has been our pleasure. The Second Ammendment of 'The United States of America, Bill of Rights' is being protected by 'The Patriotic Citizens of The USA'..
_____________________________________________________________________________

My own wife really enjoys firing her little revolver. Her neighbor friend had to shoot our kitten with it.....
I know, I know it sounds terrible, but let me finish the short story.

The story started years ago when our very young son jumped off a kitchen stool. The new kitten was his unintended landing zone. It went into convulsions, so my sweet young wife called her young neighbor friend.

She immediately ran over and checked out the leaping and twisting kitten. Determining it was fatally injured, she knowingly told wife "We have to put it out of it's misery". Wife quickly told her "I have a gun". Her and the neighbor looked at each other for a minute. Wife said ie: "I can't shoot the kitten, It isn't a threat to me".

Young neighbor lady replied, 'in essence: "I have no connections to it, it is your Kitten, I know how to shoot a gun and will take care of the job". They wisely took the writhing kitten out to the back yard for the execution. A good thing, because we would have had to deal with a really torn up floor as an aftermath.

The two young ladies dug a hole and set the kitten in it. It kept turning and flipping over. The young neighbor lady pointed wife's 38 revolver into the hole and squeezed the trigger.

Both of them jumped at the loud report, then looked into the hole. The kitten was still writhing and flipping..... She had missed. The neighbor said "My ears are ringing, that is the loudest gun I have ever shot, and it jumped as the bullet came out." My compassionate wife said, "shoot it again". Neighbor lady said "NO it hurts my ears and I can't look, I turned away and closed my eyes before pulling the trigger".

Well being very distrught about the kitten and fearing firing wife's 38 revolver again....in the city... they grabbed the shovel and buried the kitten....alive....well sort of.

One of the more intrigueing stories from our 'Land of the Free', Our USA. "One Nation Under God"

Post Election California 2010

2010-12-16T12:04:00.000-08:00

Posted by Robo in SoCal:

As stated earlier, California still doesn't get it. Could be the majority of voters are already part of the entitlement class that has a vested interest in Big Government.

Much was made about a proposition that would scale back California's own version of Cap and Trade. Had already been voted on by the Democratic Legislature and signed by the Rino governor.

Two Texas based oil companies put up a total of $10 million to help keep California from sinking further into the abyss of ignorance. Clueless Big Oil companies, they gambled and wasted their time and money.

The media blasted the greedy big oil companies with an indignation that would have made Elmer Gantry proud.

What was not reported, until after the elections, was that the environmental, ecological, windmill (a European import) lobby put up over $30 million, more than three times the reportedly 'greedy' oil companies, to Defeat the measure. As a result Californian's will pay more for electricity, gasoline and all other energy products and services. Of course it's always the fault of Bush, Cheney....

Jerry Brown was elected governor. For those who do not remember he held the governor's office once before. For eight years. And guess what, he was a disaster. We had the best FREEway system in the country, until Brown's secretary of transportation, decided (not the voters) that we would all ride buses. Stopped all plans and construction of the FREEway system.

Now if you want freeways like we used to have, you must pay a Toll (note: Australian-Spanish Macquarie-Cintra, increasingly owns the US tollway systems under SCC, a cute name belying the foreign ownership), that's in addition to the increased highway fuel tax, car registration tax, and other taxes that we pay for our roads. 80% of the so called 'mass' transit, is subsidized by the car driving public. (note: Cal-Trans is rapidly facing the aspect of more union retirees and their benefits, than actual workers)

Jerry Brown was also the one who mandated that the public sector (the ones we can no longer afford and are bankrupting the state) should unionize. Can't wait to see what other destruction he can accomplish this time around.

Lest anyone care to blame Arnold as a GOP, don't forget he ran as a movie star and Brown is pretty much keeping Arnold's administration. Tells you a lot. State was 100 days late on the last budget round, came to an agreement and compromise. Lasted 33 days, now already $25 billion in debt,.... and climbing.

Not one member of the California legislature was replaced. In fact one (in Long Beach) died a month before the election and was Re-Elected. There is "Progressive" life after death. The California legislature is proof.

The highest paid teacher in Orange County is a drama teacher in Laguna. $170,527.
The Tustin (Orange County) Unified School Superintendent $428,244.
The head of the Los Angels Government housing authority (oversees the entitlement housing in LA) makes over $500K. (generous retirement packages are approx 90% of pay) And we wonder why we are wallowing in debt?

A few years ago California voted (by initiative process) for stem cell research. At the time it was hailed as a "Progressive" move and that George W. was against stem cell and wanted to kill people and the rest of the "Progressive" 'misinformation'. I voted against it.

George W did not say he was against stem cell research, as the media reported. What he said he was against, is taxpayers 'supporting' stem cell labs and their exhorbitant costs of perpetual experimentation.

Turns out old George W and I were correct. After billions of dollars there is zip, zero, nada to show for the money the tax payers approved. In fact the California stem cell lobby (no special interest of course) wants 3 billion more over 6 years. CAL voters are naively enamored enough to gushingly give it to them.

California also voted itself a high speed rail system that would go from LA to San Francisco. 'Eco friendly' was the reason given. The cost will be in the billions of dollars, IF it ever gets built at all. Meanwhile ECO consultant firms are raking in exhorbitant Fees to do the endless studies to make sure no mouse is endangered.

Now IF it gets built, and I doubt it will, it will cost the Non-subsidized segments of society, a small fortune to take the train from LA to San Francisco. Travel time reportedly to be 3 hrs. Presently, for a relatively small amount of money, one can fly from LA to SF in less than an hour, and it's not taxpayer subsidized. In CAL we call high speed rail "Progressive" think.

We, the enlightened state, were worried about the drug used to execute prisoners on death row. Not that many ever get executed, most die of old age, after years of living at the taxpayers expense. Of course with medical, recreation, and computer access to harass the system with frivolous lawsuits. The bureaucratic courts called for taxpayer funded studies, to prove without a doubt, that the drug was humane. Did the convicted Killers determine beforehand that their victims were Killed humanely? More tax dollars totally misappropriated to 'special Interests'.

All one needs to do is to look at California's economy and it's mounting bureaucrasy saturated debt, loss of non-governmental jobs (the jobs that actually pay the taxes) because of fees, taxes, restrictions and regulations driving industry offshore, then to see that same "Progressive" model being ingrained into Washington D.C., to know why the country is 'Progressively' being spiraled down into oblivion. (note: The Mass Media continues to sing their hymm, "All Is Well, All is Well, In this Hole")

Fortunately a few adults (the Incredibles?) have recently been sent to attempt a rescue of Congress, hopefully they can begin a process of taking the taxpayers credit card (stolen ID) away from the current tax and spend criminal class, and restore a semblance of sanity. Just a semblance, from the electorate disaster that has been ruling us for these last many years.

There are national stories about gasoline hitting $3.00 a gallon. I don't remember when it was not $3.00 a gallon, and climbing to $3.25 and much higher in CAL. Of course it is allways the Fault of Bush, Cheney, etc..

What is needed is to stop fooling ourselves and define Liberal and Progressive as the words were meant to be defined. Not redefined according to the ruling class of despots and their fawning, groveling, Media. Wouldn't hurt either if the schools would stop 'programing children' and could teach the truth, while stimulating awareness and discovery.

Robo

The Promise.. live.. with animals

2010-12-07T19:55:00.000-08:00

This email is great. I laughed all the way thru it, trying to picture you struggling to make it work. Very good job. :-)
Larry

We have been rehearsing for our church production of 'The Promise' for the Christmas program. We are starting to get the idea, so the first night was our real thing performance in front of the audience of nearly 2,000 people from the community. Eventually 8,000 folks will get to see this message of Hope, live on stage for Christmas. btw it was flash vid online during the five performances. HoffmantownChurch.org

in Albuquerque New Mexico.

On the first night they stuck me with a 40# sheep to carry and hold. The other shepherds got to carry wimpy little 10# goats. You know how sheep turds are little kibbles? Well that thing weighed the same as the big bag of birdseed from Walmart, and it was obviously full of Kibbles.

With it's fat body firmly pinned in my arms, I held it's tail tucked down under it's butt. My thought was to hold them in, until the scene ended, then walk back to the Wranglers and let them deal with the inevitable 'blowout'.

I had been holding that 40# hunk of mutton in my arms for well over fifteen minutes in the lobby, while dozens of excited kids petted the hell out of it's soft black wool, so I was already tiring.

The music cue, then the doors opened at the back of the auditorium. Four Shepherds entered carrying animals in their arms...little animals...for three of them. The long walk through the aisles and audience, was not too bad. The first ramp level up the catwalk in front of the audience, around the orchestra pit, then to the right, then another ramp left, up to the big stage, was a bit dicey.

At least going up I could see the black runway in front of me. The Shepherd kids ran back and forth in front of us and kept encouraging our progress to see the newborn Baby Jesus.... we all four shepherds and the kids made it up the ramp across the runway and up the other ramp onto the stage. So far so good.

I held the sheep's face away from the audience to keep it from getting scared. That left the butt pointed in their direction.. Maybe not so good an idea? At that point the weight was getting to me. I dropped to one knee near the Manger and started to set the Sheep down carefully on all four wobbly legs. Apparently it was also getting stiff. Finally didn't have to hold all of that 40# weight in my arms. There is a limit... over 25 minutes so far, now shaking.

Well as I leaned down in preperation for setting it on the floor, that thing started to rumble like a volcano. Immediately I felt the load of 'buckshot' blow out past the tail and over my arm, spraying a pattern all over the floor.... under the Baby Jesus (live Baby) in a feed trough.

The very young mother 'Mary' was kneeling right in the middle of it, and a young Shepherd boy was next to her. I pinned the Sheep to my right leg with my right arm, while keeping my left hand clear of that volatile butt...... the Sheep's.

I spotted a choir member's 'do rag' from the previous scene, laying next to the stable wall to my right. Sneakily I dragged it over and tried to wipe away the kibbles from Mary's legs. Well that was scary, if I carressed her bare legs, I would have caught 'Holy' hell for being a pervert 'hitting on' Mary....at the Birth of Jesus...

Quickly the Three Kings, followed by their flashy caravans, all started entering through the audience aisles. I now felt like the scene was doable to completion. 'Doctor Bob's Goat (he was a shepherd too) was constantly 'Nannying' right in my ear. Audience at first 'bleat' thought we were torturing the baby Jesus. When they quickly figured no baby sounded like that, they were amused.....for the first five minutes.

The Three Kings walked slower than I would have liked at that time. The King with Myrh approached with my grand daughter in his caravan, carrying his stuff. He finally got into position and shielded my sheep's butt from view, good move King. Now I carefully wiped away more kibbles from the shepherd kid's kneeling spot, cautiously leaving Mary to her own.

That part was going as planned (sort of), slowly the Kings left the stage. Too slowly for me, my knee was almost locked into the kneel. They all left the stage one by one, with their long robes and procession of caravan servants and guards. After that departure on the first night, the stage went black. I struggled to my feet, my knee was numb. Still retaining a death grip on that sheep, I lifted it up into the standard?... Sheep carrying position.

Now that fat Black Sheep was blocking my view of the runway leading to the stage stairs. Following the other Shepherds with their little tiny goats (why did I draw the biggest, fattest animal?), I stepped off the stage with faith alone into that black void of eternity. That's when I leaned precariously and the stone wall beside me started falling over.

Here goes the elegantly dressed 'Silver King's (that's what we called him) Caravan. He is actually the Frankencence guy. The King's well decorated entourage leaves the stage on the middle ramp...closely followed by? a Shepherd? Doc Bob... whoopsie, WTH? Glen (head shepherd) sent his Shepherd boy running to go fetch Bob back to leave with the rest of us lowly shepherds. Walking along with the King, was apparantly a little presumptious on Bob's part..

OK no great damage, so far so good. Doctor Bob hasn't fallen....tonight. Well yes he did fall into the orchestra pit... but that was last night. Baltazar (Gregory the narrator) reached down into the pit and yanked Bob back up onto the runway.

Then we went to wardrobe for our change into Priests for the next performance. As Priests in our long robes, we do a lot of scenes. We are even present at the market place where the thief steals the money from the Tax collector and gets chased through the aisles.

Of course he was quickly caught by Hittite 'Security', Then returned to be crucified with Jesus. Except For one night when 'Security' ran smack into the Roman soldiers. The Hittite (one of two brothers) fell into the lap of a person in the audience.

Fortunately the funeral procession, with it's seven members and our #2 Priest (Doug), had already cleared the aisle, or it would have been awkward with the corpse falling out of his 'bearer'. We needed that corpse for Jesus to "Raise from the dead". If he had fallen out and scrambled to get back on his board, our audience would have really become suspicious.

The scene depicts the same marketplace where Jesus and his disciples roamed aound with the crowd before his being ID'd by Judas. "Thirty pieces of Silver" could buy a full time slave in those days. Nowadays it can't even buy a politicians influence.

During this time period, Jesus was very busy casting out Demons, healing the lame, reviving the dead (guy on the board). Some of it on 'The Sabath'(a big No No). The crowd of close to one hundred very vocal choir members, roamed the aisles with lots of live Chickens, Rabbits, Sheep and Donkeys (Eyore and Piglet). Choir members also make good Lepers and Beggars. Did I mention that they can even sing? Some were very good dancers. Baptists can really dance, did you think they couldn't?

Myself, Daughter inlaw and her daughter, makes a three generation family performing 'The Promise'. Several friends (like pretty Kim, the dental hygenist who brought us all tooth brushes) of course added to the pleasant variety. We all kept the large, dedicated, 'behind the scenes' crew very busy for 12 to 14 hrs a day. Some of whom (like Kay) sewed and fitted all of our intricate costumes. The orchestra worked many long hours to get the music script absolutely perfect, directed by Terry, our dedicated leader.

We four Priests are present as Jesus "turns water into wine" (a good trick, used by 'Manischevitz'). Priests are present in the temple (a hastily erected tent in our case) when Jesus proclaims himself as fullfilling Prophesy.

Now THAT revelation really gets us angry. Our livelihood is being threatened. No one really needs us anymore. Everyone can now invite God to be their OWN personal confidante and Savior. We are no longer the 'Go to' guys. We Priests angrily want Jesus charged and found guilty in a court of law. Bob also played a Priest. With Bob now dressed as the #3 Priest, I being #4 in heirarchy (kinda like a Union), we witness the Jesus (believe me, he was 'railroaded') trial. BTW in case you wondered, Jesus did not have a good lawyer present for his defence.

The trial scene of course involves the Priest Union. 'Caiaphas' (Dale) being the High Priest... the union 'steward', our boss. Pilot's pretty wife cautioned her husband to Not get too deeply involved with crucifying Jesus, because she rightly figured "He was, who He said He was". That would have made their cushy lives infinitely more complicated.

That is why Pilot said he "Washed his hands of this Deed" (and he did, physically). Throwing down the towel, Angrily he told the crowd, "Crucify Him Yourselves"... Pontius Pilot was originely from Petoski Michigan. Did you ever hear of Petoski Rocks?

They are rare. He had some in his pocket for use in a scene. Pilot was handing them out before he realized he may not find anymore. He went to the entrance yard and grabbed a handfull of deco gravel to use instead.

Lights went to dark at the end of the trial, we started down the ramp. Bob, #3 Priest, just in front of me, wobbled then started rolling down the long ramp like a big black and white ball, bowling over the line of choir members coming up the ramp onto the stage. I quickly changed my mind and took the stairs while the wreckage was cleared.

This afternoon we do it all over, and again tonight, and two more on Sunday. 8,000 tickets are in the hands of the audience divided into five performances, so it's a big crowd. I may again try the ramp, and recon that dark stairway, not sure yet but the stair recon is a def...
____________________________
Next performances pretty much the same except for my new 'carry'. Terry our director thought that sheep looked a little overweight. With little time for an Oprah diet, A little brown goat that weighed about 10# became my new bundle of joy. What a difference.

Brown Goat was nervous at first but I stroked his chin slowly. He calmed down... Then began to eat my wardrobe. He loved the rawhide and burlap coat (pretty basic threads). He even tasted the brown cloth over my head with the sweatband. To a goat, everything is for tasting. I always picked him and we both got along well together for the rest of the performances.

My other role, like the Shepherd seemed to morph at times, varying in each performance. Actually done first in the performance, is as one of the four Priests of the Temple. We start it all off on a music cue with a wedding procession. A joyous dance (choir members, not the priests). Mother of the groom, father of the Groom and Groom are actually family.

Priests are really pompous (pious?) types, with hats and long black robes, a white prayer shawl to cover our hats (mine and Bob's looked like coffee cans covered in black cloth and tassels). #1 and #2 hats looked like big wide inverted cones with the wide opening, up. We were told to 'duck and cover' (with our shawls) when we enter the Temple (a tent affair that kids set up before we enter). They were late popping it up last night, so we just stood where it was supposed to be.

They eventually stood it up around us. Jesus walks in.... 'like he owned the place'... and reads the ancient scrolls that announce his 'Destiny'. We are visibly angry and hate the competition for our respected, well paying cushy jobs. Well duhhh. We as Priests, get angrier in each successive performance. Jesus is really getting us Priests upset. Do you ever wonder why so many people in this world dislike him? Those Priests were like today's media. They can incite people to action.

Like earlier, our next performance scene as Priests, is at the Trial where the Head Priest, Caiaphas (still our boss, Dale) demands that Jesus be put to death for 'Blasphemy' (now there is a word you don't hear today). The crowd all cheers 'YES', Crucify him. We four stern looking Priests, all piously nod in approval.

Pontius Pilot (Caesar's Gov) wants nothing to do with killing a man that did nothing evil or violent, but the big vocal crowd, scattered in the aisles among the audience, all shout louder... "Crucify Him".

They then have to release 'somebody' for the big trial to have meaning. Caiaphas says "Turn loose Barrabas", the thief and murderer. Crowd agrees and yells louder for the release of... Barabas.

Jesus is grabbed even harder by the big, elegantly uniformed Roman Guards, dragged and whipped on, through the streets hauling his own Cross, to be loudly (hammer hitting a ringing pipe) nailed in place.

Orchestra plays 'The Via De La Rosa'. He is one bloody mess as they crank him up. We Priests all know he 'Is surely not the Son of God' or he would 'save himself'. The Sky goes black. Lightning flashes, Earthquake rumbles at his death, strange things happen at the temple, and we Priests quickly stumble off stage.... Surprisingly Doc Bob survived the earthquake scene, leaving the stage on both feet.

The following event, removing dead bloody Jesus from the Cross, got his close 'followers' really bloody as well. Their garments had to be all tossed into the washing machine for the next performance.

Jesus (Chris) was then entombed behind the huge rolling stone. Chris's wife was hiding inside the tomb to get him cleaned up and presentable for the Ressurection scene. Extremely well disciplined, high ranking Roman Guards, and no Priests were in attendance. Especially none as he emerges from the Tomb. That would have really gotten them upset.

Notes from History:

Unlike other false religions spread by illiterates trying to copy his deeds much later, Jesus 'Followers' started writing down the events as they witnessed them. Jesus (in his case, by his Father...in Heaven) was extremely well educated, as were some of his Desciples. They kept meticulous records.

After the trial, Crucifiction and Resurection, his Disciples rightly feared for their lives, were told by the resurected Jesus to get out of that area and spread the story of what occured. "The People of the Book" as the early Christian Believers were referred, began their well documented journeys. We know of their writings today as, 'The New Testament'.

Christian 'Believers' were hunted down, slaughtered, killed as exibitions of entertainment in the Colliseum, and hated for spreading the word that Jesus the Christ had lived on earth as a man.

Later Roman Governors, including such as Caligula, had Christians covered in Pitch while still alive, rammed a long pole up their butts, lit them afire and raised as burning, screaming roadside lights along The Apian Way (the countless holes from the poles, are still visible even today).

That ongoing process would surely discourage many from admitting to being 'Believers'. We all heard that "Nero Fiddled while Rome Burned". Nero also blamed the Christians for burning Rome.

Return to The Promise:

Several of us switched back into Shepherd's wardrobe for the final Manger event.
This program is reversed from actual chronology, to finally show the Manger scene last, as is the real Christmas message of Birth and Hope..

The Trial and Crucifiction actually portrays the Easter message. A few of our church folks at first didn't like the idea of combining the two programs this year. At first there was some dissagreement among our cast members, but they ended up enjoying it once they watched it in it's entirety.... but that's just people.... we are all flawed.....but as 'Believers'... Forgiven. :>)
The Priestly Shepherd, 'Blogengeezer'
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Fun way to remember "The Reason for The Season" in Our "One Nation Under God", The United States of America.

Daisy Red Ryder

2010-12-05T09:42:00.000-08:00

Wife didn't like Pigeons. She would glare at them all sitting on the roof waiting to get into the bird feeder or the dog food. They would all just sit and stare at her as she waved her arms.

One time she grabbed the old Red Ryder hanging by the back door. She stormed back outside, quickly aimed and fired from 25 yds away. The BB flew on perfect trajectory and squarely hit her chosen Pigeon solid with a loud 'Thwhack' on it's broadside wing.

The gray Pigeon just flapped it's wings once to rearrange it's feathers and defiantly stared at her. I was astonished and said "You hit it, you actually hit it" . She looked back at me and said, "With what?".

I replied, "The BB, you actually hit that Pigeon with the BB". She then said to me with her quizical look, "You always said that this was an Air Rifle". I didn't think it really shot anything.... but AIR"....

John Deere Man, 12 years old

2010-11-23T16:20:00.000-08:00

As I approached manhood at 12 years of age (almost 13), my grandfather finally gave me the 'unsupervised' use of his classic 1929 John Deere (I had been riding on, then driving and working it for many years). He had rebuilt the 2 cylinder Poppin' Johnny engine, so it ran really well.

He taught me about the preventive maintenance and oil changes (WWII he had filtered and stored up all slightly used oil) and how to file the points and adjust the magneto timing. Spark plugs were always cleaned, adjusted and re-used back then. I finally was strong enough to Pull the Hand Crank 'up' against compression to start it by myself (important), often times it 'kicked' back dangerously. Poppin' Johnny badly needed all four tires though.

I worked the 'custom' contract jobs, my Grandmother mysteriously found for me in the community. Sitting high, and with great pride driving the green John Deere and hauling the equipment on the trailer pulled behind, I flew down the highway paved in squares (the 'ceee-ment road' as some neighbor folks called it).... at 10 to 12 (almost 15) mph...

Industrious and hard working Grandma, also worked the phone and kept the cash flowing in. She also figured out what each hour was worth, telling the customers the price for each job. Being just a kid, I had no idea what to charge folks.

Eventually I got a feel for the rates and confidently figured the hourly, until the profits started to build a total in my first real 'Passbook' bank account. Eventually the funds were there to buy new tires, ordered from the Sears and Roebuck catalog..... after WWII rationing ended.

The much anticipated arrival of those new tires and tubes delivered by the blue Sears truck, brought a welcome end to the 'airing up' of the old tires. A daily event, with an hour of pumping like crazy on the old, leather washered 'bicycle pump'. Only the gas stations could afford expensive electric 'airing up pumps' in those years.

After rolling each of the brand new tires back to the barn, I had to figure out how to mount the bless'ed things myself. What a tough job by flashlight and lantern, over the several weeks in the dark, snowbound and cold winter months (tractor was drained and in the snowed in, storage barn).

At 12 I was strong for my age, but nowhere near enough to man handle those big hard rubber tires. I was worn out after each night I fought 'em, from the wrestling of rubber and iron. It took old mechanical lever screw jacks, placed strategically under the weight of the tractor, just to 'break the beads'.

It took long steel bars that kept endlessly slipping loose, to lever them off the wheels a fraction of an inch at a time. I poured out the sodium chloride solution (traction weight), removed the old 'boots' that were slipped in years before, to cover the old cut and blown out sidewalls. Saved the old patched red rubber tubes for slingshots. WWII rationing forced everyone to just 'make do'. There were No tires or rubber, the war effort got them.

The heavy iron John Deere sickle bar mower had to be dragged under the jacked up tractor, the tractor lowered, then the mower jacked up and hard mounted to the frame, an all day and more, project in itself. I had two large flat fabric sickle bar drive belts. One was an old spare that I kept re-laced for emergencies. The row cultivators with four seperate assemblys, were hard mounted as well.

The heavy John Deere moldboard plow with 'squeeze handle' lift, was the same to mount and adjust. Rare and very expensive, US Union made socket wrenches were not something everyone could afford. Antique forged black iron, open ended 'S' and straight wrenches were used. I used some of my money to eventually buy some new hex bolts and nuts after the war. At 16, Mom gave me a Christmas present of a new Craftsman wrench set. I slept with that shiny new chromealoy set next to my bed for months. Still have some parts of it, even after a couple of thefts in ABQ got most.

The normally used pre WWII square nuts and bolts, were sharp cornered and really took off lots of skin.. 'Knuckle busters', were the given name to those old wrenches including adjustable 'Monkey's, we were fortunate to even own. The old Seat and Lever manipulated, disc harrow and levered drag spike harrow, were leftovers from the horse drawn era, as was the hand and muscle powered, wooden handled 'slip shovel' I used as my earth mover bucket.

As soon as school was out each day, I ran home to start working and chores before dusk (we raised hundreds of chickens. For a WWII time, two hogs and a beef each year). While the other kids played ball in the nearby field, I happily drove past on my way to yet another mowing, plowing or cultivating job, grandma had scheduled for me.

She was my corporate 'office manager'. Folks called her every day with projects that needed tractor work. For a young kid, the rewards were fantastic. I always had pocket cash. She also found me harvesting jobs in the orchards and 'de-tassling' corn, while riding on the big machine with other kids trying to earn more cash.

Driving the John Deere up to the tall glass cylindered, gas pump was exciting. At the highway crossroad, the guys playing pool by the pot bellied stove, and sitting on the tall 'shoe shine chairs' inside the little store, always looked outside to see who pulled up.

Jumping down from the burlap bag cushioned steel seat in my straw hat, cranking the dark yellow Regular leaded gas up from the underground tank and into the big measured jar, then climbing up and putting the hose nozzle into the tractor tank, I felt sort of special for a kid. Especially while paying my own bill to Mrs and Mr Hokemier.. a dollar... and change.

After the war when 'stuff' became available, the little gas station, 'Hokemiers' (Hokey's to us) got a brand new electric 'Tokhiem' gasolene pump. A little glass bubble had a small metal 'vane' spinning around inside it. The red 'Ethyl' was for rich folks. Sometimes when flush with some extra cash, I gave the John Deere an 'Ethyl' treat. The pump's mechanical numbers rolled and the price and gallons appeared in the windows. I thought, "What will they think of next".

Saved up more money and bought my own car, a dead 41 Chevy, at age 14 (almost 15). We towed it home with the tractor. Rebuilt the broken timing gear drive, with instructions from a 'Motor's Manual', grandpa picked up from one of his mechanic friends. Took me almost half a year of spare time and ordered parts. By 15, I was driving it around on the farm roads and impressing the local kids...also angering the local residents.

Grandma got called on many occasions. Grandpa threatened to 'dismantle' (I remember his exact words) the 'straight piped, split manifold and loud, black with fender skirts and lowered, 41 Chevy 2dr sedan. Speed and more speed was my addiction. The tractor was slow, I switched to the shiny Black Chev for a thrill. Loudly roaring through the farm fields and dirt roads at night with the straight pipes alternately 'barking' and 'rapping off', was my adrenalin rush. :>)

Sacking groceries at the Jewel store where mom and grandma's friend Mike was the mgr, helped keep funds for car insurance and fuel flowing. Haying on a crew with friends, also came to help fund my now growing car projects. The Hoffman Machine shop job in town was also the result of Grandma knowing Floyd the shop foremen. I Have no idea what I would have become, if not for mom and grandparents consistantly prodding me along 'The yellow brick road' to my future.

Those years went by fast. With all of the work, no time for much 'hanging out'. My wilder friends were more loosely supervised and began smoking, drinking...lots of both. I could not afford 'smokes' or 'beers'. The Chevy needed gas, registration plates and insurance to drive, and the unpredictable old Poppin' Johnny often needed expensive pieces, to replace parts broken.....
by falling into ditches, hitting tree branches (radiator :<(, breaking the sickle blades on wire hidden in the weeds, and just it's heavy usage in general, kept me busy.

Steel fence posts hidden in the tall weeds were a bugger. They knocked the mower assembly back and out of it's sprung safety lock., and often broke the mower bar's forged iron guides. Often had to climb down and grab the end of the big long mower bar. A fast and hard muscled pull forward, got it back into 'lock'. Had to keep fingers out of sickle blades during this maneuver, cause the bar started to shake and cut as soon as 'lock' was restored. If I didn't do it by hand, the oak wood 'throw board' assy on the outer end could break, and it was expensive.

Many farmers lost fingers doing just this one, all too common maneuver. I quickly learned to use the anvil to chisel off and re-rivit the new blades on the sickle bars. I bought them by the dozens at Hersberger's International Harvester farm equipment store. I was proud to have two complete bars, One spare was always ready to be quickly installed so that the job always got finished on time. Sometimes the John Deere needed a factory part. Grandpa drove me to the dealer in Des Plains. That was a big trip. I enjoyed seeing the airplanes at Pal-Waukee Airport. Joline Illinois was the only bigger trip..the John Deere factory.

My hardest later competition, my perceived nemesis, was an older kid that had a shiny new red Farmall Cub (International). His family bought it for him. His family also had just moved from the city and had bought the little neighborhood store and gas station... Hokey's. Hydraulics and modern equipment on the Cub, instead of my old 'Jack Armstrong' mechanical iron squeeze levers, were much faster and easier. His three point hitch did in minutes, what my 'hard point' bolt mounted equipment took all day to do. I was sooo jealous of him.

My tough Frenchman Grandpa told me, "Too bad for that kid, he is missing out". "It is good for you. The big iron levers build strong arms and legs, so no one will kick sand in your face". He surely saw me enviously looking at those body building ads in the magazines, don't you think? :>)

I beat my nemisis older competitor, on price only. I heard that his folks wisely told him "if you can't earn a good profit to pay for that new tractor, don't do the job". My equipment costs were minor in comparison to his. That was only one reason.. Grandma's 'in community favor' did the rest. She was just one of her 'Church Ladies', and did lots of charity work. "The Ladies Aid" was her group and they often met at her house to discuss the community's needs.

That was before wellfare and Johnson's 'Great Society'. The church and concerned citizens took care of the needy (still do). No one starved or froze. Somehow the community always spread the word about who needed what (the 8 party line?). Sometimes my 'garden' jobs were charity.
Grandma said:
"Mrs -------- needs her garden to grow food. They have no money, so you go plow and do whatever it takes". "You will find out that it pays off after a while, God Will take care of you:"
She was so right.. :>)

Life was surely wonderful in this 'One Nation Under God' THE UNITED STATES of AMERICA

Texas Hill Country Camping in Motor Home

2010-11-06T18:11:00.000-07:00

Just returned from a 1,600 mile (2,575km) Texas trip, This is a recap. Left Albuquerque New Mexico one afternoon early in October. First thing to prep is the coach and tow Jeep. Load for duration, not really sure about coming weather. It changes often in Hill Country due to elevation variance and Gulf pressures systems.

Only a few items of food in refrigerator and freezer. We figure to 'overnight' at Walmart parking lots on way to the numerous great Texas State Parks (over 100, majority with recreational water). Note: Only one other National Park in Texas, except for the North Padre Island Natural Wildlife Refuge.

Aransas National Wildlife Refuge had no facilities for us to camp overnight when we were there to see the Whooping Cranes. 'Big Bend' on the Rio Grande River border with Mexico was the real camping and hiking friendly National park, the last time we visited in 2007.
With the latest DC admin's unofficial 'open border' policy, not sure how safe it is.

Walmart Superstores are an easy parking (very important), great source of groceries. We usually stop in at little restaurants along the highway, and even some fast food if a long parking spot is handy close by. The I-40 highway east out of ABQ has some gradual and sporadic climbs toward 7,200ft altitude Cline's Corners, after which there is a general slope downgrade over the last 100 of Roswell's 200 miles total distance from ABQ. Wind is unpredictable and has effects.

Cline's Corners intersection hosts the 'oversize load' by-pass highway from the north. We often witness the passage of long, and I do mean long, escorted trucks carrying the blades of the massive wind turbines. They are being installed across the western states. Clines Corners is nearly 100 miles east of ABQ on I-40, and is where we turn South to Roswell this time. There are quite a few different variations of routes to Texas on the map, this one being our quickest to the Hill Country. We left late in the day, so chose this route. The mountainous route through Historic Lincoln NM (Billy the Kid) is more interesting, but takes a little longer. Arrived at Walmart in Roswell NM just before dark.

Roswell

with it's 1947 'Alien' Flying Saucer history fame, is still growing in spurts and stalls. It's favorable weather makes it a secret retirement community for those getting away from the harsh winters, stress pressures and extremely high taxation of the northern states. Mellow traffic and generally low costs of housing including heating, attract many wise retirees.

Solar energy is abundant and the US taxpayers heavily subsidize it's use in order to make it practical (like wind turbines). The NM Military Institute is there. The young men and women in small groups, were enjoying the Friday evening in the Sam's Club and nearby Walmart. Pretty sharp looking and well behaved group of young people. Quite a contrast to the local kids hanging out.

After Walmart McDonald's sausage biscuits and coffee, we left early for Big Spring Texas. Passing through Tatum NM and into Plains Texas, the highway is sparsely occupied. Nice to escape the traffic of the citys. Oil wells with pumpjacks rocking, and ranching are one and the same throughout west Texas. Cotton crop looked a little thinner this trip. Some fields were much better than others but not close to production seen in several past years trips. Endlessly changing weather patterns have their effect.

The harvest was starting. The Cotton Pickers

were busy and the huge truck sized, compressed loaves were scattered about in the fields. On return, the 'Gins'

were busy, as the harvest was brought in. The ginned out Cotton Seed was starting to accumulate. Trucks were busy loading and unloading the harvest and cotton seed for processing.

Brownfield Texas is our turning intersection heading southerly to Big Spring. Normally we refill the fuel and spend the evening in the Walmart parking lot in Big Spring. This time we figured we could still have enough daylight to make it to San Angelo. Climbing the highway south and upward out of Big Spring, the hundreds of Wind Turbines become visible on the high mesa.

Sizes range from the huge 200 ft pilons supporting the 300 foot blades and generator housings the size of vans, down to the smaller faster models. The wind is unpredictable but will often times blow too hard. Turbines automatically 'feather' their blades at times, due to excess wind speed or a disaster can occur.

The blade tip speed is just slightly under 'Sonic' or they loose efficiency. West Texas has thousands of Wind Turbines and more being built all of the time. Problem is the transmission lines to the remote windy hilltops. Investment money is limited so the turbines are as well.

San Angelo

for the evening, worked out better. Fuel was cheaper at Walmart in SA. The Spring Creek RV, Marina... 'City Park' section

on Lake Nasworthy, is our goal for the evening. Turn off Knickerbocker at the big 'golfball' (military radar at Goodfellow Air Force Base). Quiet place during the week. Varieties of Squirrels, many Whitetail Deer, Turkey Vultures and Turkeys with other critters, make the evening and morning interesting.

Numerous Wild Hogs were fun to watch years ago. Also gone now from the other side of the lagoon, a white Peacock with several hens and Llamas, including a donkey, added to our evening interest in the past. Twelve dollars a night for 'dry camp' is good as well.

Weekends during summer months are a little noiser due to the children. Few years ago the City offered different styles of boats for rent. City Lawyers predicted 'deep pockets' predatory lawsuits, so no longer is family fun available. Times they are 'a changing' for sure.

Fire Ants

are becoming more prolific throughout Texas and their 'stings' (they actually hyper sting) will leave red welts and blisters recurring for weeks. Topical Anti-Bacteria meds work to maintain the size of the infected welt, if used often. Ammonia, if applied immediately and often, works well, as does Bleach. 'After Bite' is a Walmart sold product, to carry in it's little tube. Highly recommended for your pocket if any outdoor adventures are planned. Tent camping could be disasterous if Fire Ants are under or near the tent.

I heard about the effect that Fire Ants are having on the 'ground dwelling' species of birds and animals. They have a very devastating effect on the young, blinding and causing great distress to the newborn and helpless. These attacks blind calves as well. The absense of wild hogs in the Spring Creek city park in these later years, could very well be the result of the Fire Ant infestations. Cotton farmers appreciate their control of Boll Weavils. No mixed emotions on the imported Fire Ants. Prognosis negative.

Morning was preparing for our real tour of the Texas Hill Country

We always check out the Goodwill, Salvation Army Thrift Stores where we stop. Never know what treasures one may find. We hit some on this, as well as the last trip.

The next destination of the day, was Ink's Lake State Park

near Kingsland

As our practice, we missed getting a reservation for the weekend. No more spaces available for the night. Ink's Lake State Park is very popular. The rental canoes and all of the amenities attract familys for the weekends and all through the summer.

Buchanon Lake Reservoir, Black Rock RV Park (really on top of a massive surface of 'black rock') is our only choice nearby. Operated by a company out of Colorado, it is pretty basic. Water and Electric are in several sites. We were fortunate to find one open. I like to hike along the lake during the evening stays at this park. There are also cabins available for families.

Co-pilot enjoys reading books due to her limited physical abilities on varied terrain. That is the one major reason we travel by motor coach. She has everything comfortably at hand, and cabin fever is not an issue in the larger coach. Buchanon is a flood control and recreation reservoir. This year was plentiful in the level of water held back by the impressive Buchanon Dam. Last time we stayed, the lake was much lower.

Drove to Ink's and set up reservation for later afternoon, As we drove away from Ink's Lake toward Kingsville, we heard some racket in the tree lined passage highway. Due to a detction switch failure, our antenna was left in the upright position. A climb up on the roof revealed a bent up wing and a broken elevation gear. Bending it back down with no elevation, held it for the next opportunity to find parts.

The site we desired at Ink's, was right on the shoreline of the lake. Temporarily we camped in another site near the tent folks. The next night we were fortunatly able to acquire the shoreline site. Number 43 puts the lake right outside the coaches door at close level. Co-pilot enjoys fishing at that site. She can sit on the steps of the coach, hold her rod and watch her bobber. Fish are an optional treat.

After a few enjoyable nights and days there, while exploring some attractions in the area, including nearby Burnett and Marble Falls, we moved on down the highway toward our other Hill Country goal.

Austin

is another prosperous Texas city and the historic capitol of the Republic of Texas. Traffic is daunting without a competant Co-pilot and her trusty Garmin GPS. They are always building something around Austin, including highways, new big ones. Our one evening was spent at the McKinney Falls State Park

just out of town. The main attraction is the series of limestone falls with lots of running water. Fishing was atractive for those with a little mobility.

I passed on fishing it this stay, due to the fact it left out my mobility impaired Co-pilot. Interesting hike around the old Ranch structures though. Nice little museum with info on it's history. Great historic camping place, donated to the State of Texas by it's prominent owner the Smith family. wireless is available.... within 50 feet of the office. Sitting outside at the office camp table, we covered the screen, hunkered under the cover and viewed a few emails on the little laptop.

Along the I-35 highway leaving Austin, we saw a massive parallel highway project SH 130

. Never saw such width in a parallel highway. The state condemnation procedure must have been a total war of devastation on landowners. It is a state owned Toll Road, being built and operated under a 50 year contract by Cinco out of Spain. Australia is involved as well.

The project almost ran over little Lockhart. Public outcry, legalities and political intervention saved the little community. Hay pastures are within a few blocks of downtown Lockhart. It would have been a shame to destroy this small community in the name of a fast NAFTA

corridor between Austin and San Antonio ending near I-10. Completion date is tentatively 2012. Toll Roads all over the USA including the world are managed and maintained by this group of investors.

San Marcos destination is one more fun day tour during our overnight at Lockhart State Park. Staying the evenings at Lockhart State Park

is one of our favorite quiet nesting camps. The Civilian Conservation Corps built this small park, including a golf course, back in the late 1930's. An accessable stream flows through it, and has fish. Of course we caught many, but all were very small. They were released to enjoy their childhood.

Never saw so many large interesting garden spiders. They were everywhere this time of year. Big beautiful 'Orb' webs were nice to see, but disconcerting to have wrapped over your face during a hike. Many more were high in the branches of the trees. Nearby tent campers were retreating the camp with concern. A fear of running into the webs, drove the kids and parents to leave before check out time. Nature has many wonders, not all are appreciated. :>) Lone Star Gun Range near Lockhart is cheaper for polishing up on your marksmanship, if you are so inclined.

The Prime and Tanger Outlet Malls not far away, are fun for a day side trip. Co-pilot finds a few new pieces for her wardrobe there. Interesting in it's very lengthy side by side layout.

Sea Island Restaurant (chain) along the corridoor leading out of Austin, was another absolutely great place to stop and have an excellent fish and chips dinner. Being casual sports fishers, we don't catch enough 'keepers', so have to eat them at resataurants.

Cabela's

near Buda Texas, with their logo on the big water tank visible for miles, is a fairly recent addition to the 'corridor' along the highway out of Austin. A must see if you enjoy 'outdoors gear' attractions. Figure to spend more time than you planned.

After two nights stay at Lockhart State Park, eventually we turned toward San Antonio and our planned KOA campground. We enjoy the wild ducks, birds and squirrels that always roam the grounds. A new 25 mile hiking/biking corridor is being constructed near the stream. Due to the higher camping fees and amenities we do not use, we only stay at KOA for the side trips to the downtown area.

The city bus, stops just outside the KOA gate. The fare is $1.10 each way, correct change only. Great driver suggested buying a prepaid transfer, and remembered us on our trip back. Downtown parking is expensive and sparse on many occasions, so be prepared for some possible traffic problems if you choose to drive your own car.

The historic Alamo, and everything else for the walking class, including The River Walk and it's narrated float trips, with many intersting cafe's, is along the easy access bus routes. Remotely located on the highways, Shlitterbahn Waterparks are great attractions for the younger crowd, as is the famous Seaworld and Zoo. Lots of time required to see everything in busy and prosperous San Antonio. You may end up staying longer than you anticipated.

Alamo KOA campground has many ducks to visit some campsites, and a stream with fish and turtles. A new bike and walking path is being constructed. It runs along the stream for about 25 miles. Enjoy the hike. Alamo KOA also offers strong wireless for the computer crowd. We spent some hours catching up with home locked friends.

On the way out of the San Antonio suburbs, heading back north, is the big and very impressive Bass Pro Outdoors

shop. They have a super restaurant attached, as well as a flowing natural water attraction. Bass Outdoor is a destination in itself for the hard core outdoor enthusiasts. Certain time of year and weather conditions, the famous Blue Bonnet flowers attract tourists and all nature lovers.

Weddings and special family photo sessions are held in the Blue Bonnets. Goats and Longhorn cattle are a Texas staple as are prolific Deer. The Texas Game Ranches

are easily found on the internet. There are exotic animals behind many fences, and many of the more agile are beginning to be seen outside those fences.

Axis Deer are one of our favorites to see. The Greater Kudu

is a magnificent twist horned, imported exotic animal found in Texas, as well as in New Mexico, including many other exotic game species imported, protected, bred and proliferating on private ranches.

Fredricksburg Texas

along our northward passage, is one fine little town. The many sidewalk cafes and large restaurants are an interesting pastime in themselves. Unique German architecture is in everey direction. Our overnight stay is at the friendly Walmart for one more quiet evening near the grassy edge of the parking lot. Items needed by campers, are available within a brisk walk..or several. Tourists from Austin and San Antonio come here at every chance. It epitomizes the Texas Hill Country with it's old Germanic atmosphere. The cycling crowd finds this route to be a spectacular way to spend some time on two wheels.

Kerville with it's RV welcome River Park, is just a short drive through the scenic hills. Do Not do the shortcut 'scenic drive' to Lost Maples State Park in a large motor coach. It is brutal for the elevation and tight twisty turns over the pass. We unknowingly did it once, to our dread, as well as perverse enjoyment. A circuit of great scenery includes the Lost Maples (left over from the last ice age) State Park. Cycle riders of every type, run this loop as well.

Leaving Fredricksburg on our return to home was bittersweet. We may not come this way again due to increasing costs associated with travel these past years. The future is undependable lately. We now worked our way back through the same route we took down from Albuquerque New Mexico. San Angelo Spring Creek Park was still an interesting evening again. Deer were more plentiful than last stayover.

The Walmart in San Angelo, with it's really cheap fuel, was our last fuel stop. Texas does not consider progressivly staged Fuel taxes, to be it's primary source of state funding. Figured we could make it to ABQ 500 miles away. Retracing our highway now was routine. Roswell Walmart was our next overnight. A couple of hours of driving through the darkness of night, was a little different.

The oncoming traffic on the lonesome highway, does not give any clearance to the wider coach, because they cannot see it. The clearance lights only are visible within a few yards. Added to the night driving is the cataract that is soon to be removed from my left eye. The oncoming headlights are basically snowflakes or eskimos. Fortunately I stayed to the right of them.

Roswell is a pleasant glow on the horizon as we descend into the valley from the High plains and Mid-Cretaceous Limestone Caprock. Night camp is silent, due to a slight fatigue and very few night riders prowling the store lot. Actually we stayed at the Sam's side on this night. Morning has a breakfast treat of McDonald's sausage muffins and coffee from the Walmart.

Leaving our pleasant overnight at Walmart, we began the 200 mile route, and slow climb up in altitude toward the Sandia Mountains of ABQ. Clines Corners, 100 miles north of Roswell, is at 7,200 feet in altitude and really consumes fuel. Fuel costs are always higher at remote Cline's Corners, plan accordingly. Stop in the gift shop for a treat. Subway sandwiches are good as well. The slope down into the east mountain town of Moriarty, gives us some repreive on fuel consumption.

We are vigilant of the fuel guage now. One more climb is over the Sedillo Hill section of the Tjeras Pass. Each drop is measured and calculated. We descend the Sedillo Hill into ABQ with drops to spare, guage on empty, warning light lit.

The welcome fillup at Costco in ABQ, reveals we only had less than one gallon left in the tank. Too close for us, but happy it was accomplished. Climbing in altitude and forcing the coach into headwinds, takes it's toll on fuel. Normally a 6 to 7 hundred mile distance per tank is feasible, 8 hundred is remotely possible..... if the terrain has no mountains and the wind complys with our travel plans.

Pulling up into the home yard, rigging the holding tank dump system, draining the fresh water system for the often freezing winter, and then moving the coach to the back yard storage, and unloading the supplies from the storage closets, takes up the entire next day.

We had so much fun on this Texas trip, that a tentative plan suggested by my highly competant Navigator Co-pilot, involves a spring trip through the Southern Heartland of America. If the financial window lasts for one more season. Hopefully the coming inflation predicted, will be accompanied by an equal inflation of active investments? That is the way it is historically supposed to work. These days, logic is thrown out the window by new and extremely dangerous politics.

Travel and see first hand, the real America. The 'One Nation Under God' United States of America.

Why a 'Tea Party'? Los Angelas Times

2010-11-05T16:40:00.000-07:00

This post is from ROBO of California.

There is an article in the LA LA Times, actually book review, written by the reporters of the Times. The crux of the story is to review of four books written by authors trying to figure out why the Tea Party exists and why real mainstream Americans are upset. One of the books reviewed was written by a learned scholar from the University of California Berkeley.

Right there's a tip that the book will have a strong Marxist point of view. Remember California taxpayers pay for this school.
Bottom line of the books reviewed, is proposing that the Tea Bagger is upset because there are too many rich people in this country making too much money and not enough is trickling down to the "Little Guy".

Sounds like a quote from The Messiah.
I keep trying to figure out how these "Progressive" people think, or don't think. That is the problem, they are incapable of logical, truthful, factual thought. Tired, old, false, opinions rule the neurons and the Liberal/Progressive is incapable of truth.

The Tea Bagger exists because they are the ones working and producing and having the results of their labor stolen from them, and given to the parasites who keep the Liberal/Progressive in office. Simple as that. More reproducers, and fewer producers.

Why would anyone, except a Liberal/Progressive, care what anyone else earns? Is it a case of economic envy? Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, someone else makes more money than I do because they work harder, are smarter, and are responsible adults so the thugs should take it away from them and GIVE it to the "little guy"?

Poverty is at an all time high in this country. Is that because there aren't enough welfare programs? Is it because there are more breeders of welfare because the welfare programs keep the breeders beholden to the Liberal/Progressive? Unemployment is at an all time high in California, companies have left the state, with their jobs and taxes, because they don't like the climate?.... or because they have been taxed and regulated out by the Liberal/Progressive?

The LA LA Times is simply a propaganda rag for the Democratic Party, they have endorsed the democratic slate (and token RINO's) of candidates and every so called progressive proposition on the ballot. It's so nice the way they fall in lock step. They have been running their own polls showing that Barbara Boxer and Jerry Brown will be elected.

They are showing that a proposition that will allow a simple majority in Sacramento to pass a budget is winning. That another proposition will allow the law, that the governor signed, puts the state version of 'cap and trade' as a winner.

Both are job and business killers,and the state will sink deeper in debt and lose more real world jobs, just like the nation. Hopefully the LA LA Times is wrong (they weren't). Not that they haven't been wrong before. They loved, no worshiped, Mr Obama. Still do.

They predict partly cloudy and a sunny warm day. It's raining outside (literally) and they don't know it. That's truth and reality.

Robo

NorthWestern US travel camping

2010-09-17T10:41:00.000-07:00

Leaving on an extended Motor Home trip to Oregon is always preceded by days of preparations. The oil change and grease job on the coach is in order, if it was not done on return from the last Texas trip in the spring. Of course it is best to change the oil while it is still warm.

Loading the variety of all weather clothing, filling the fresh water tank and checking the supplies for at least a night of travel. We left from Albuquerque NM a little late, like usual, and arrived 200 miles northwest later at Farmington Sam's Club, just before it closed. Fueling was done with no lines.

Our usual evening 'camping' spot near the trees and grass, was already taken by another coach, due to our late arrival. We settled for another nearby, with the help of a friendly man who moved his car a bit. Close by, was a carry out Taco Bell meal, with a quiet night for a reward. Picking up a few essentials at Walmart, was in order of course. We feel it is compensation for the great overnight parking spots along the Walmart travel routes. I made several hiking trips back and forth to always busy Walmart near the Sam's Club.

Breakfast was a brisk walk to McDonald's for sausage and egg biscuits with coffee. Brought them all back to the coach for co-pilot and myself. Lift off was vectored for the westward portion of our journey. Four Corners and Shiprock, then turned North past Cortez Colorado and on north toward Salt Lake City Utah.

Nice to see the mini version of the Monument Valley along the way, passing through Cortez Colorado. Another nice, more agricultural route, is heading north from Farmington toward Hesperus Colorado, then west into Cortez. Irrigation is the attraction for the many hay farms along the way.

Agriculture is only possible with irrigation from the reservoirs. Utah has a lot of interesting small towns on this route out of Cortez. Many are bare remnants of the years past, when travel was limited to only nearby supply centers. Surrounding Moab Utah, is the recreation playground for countless numbers of fun and adventure seekers. The 4x4's and their little convoys, lined the roadways leading to the vast Canyon Lands National Park surrounding Moab. With a Parks Pass, you may dry camp in the National Park.

The Arches National Park can easily take up a day on fast tour of the loop road. More if you stop and hike the trails in abundance. Many days, if detailed exploring is your goal. In the past, I hiked to several of the exotic shapes of rock formations. Always was impressed with what was just around the corner.

Helper Utah is where the 'helper' engines push and pull the loaded coal and freight railroad trains over the pass westward. Train buffs enjoy watching and recording the action. The little museum shows classic pictures of history.

Green River Utah is the Melon Capitol of Utah, as well as the John Wesley Powell Museum, with it's video presentation. With only one arm, Powell surely conquered the Grand Canyon, with it's Colorado River Power. Green River was his launch site for the extended wild ride of his historic contingent toward Arizona.. Agricultural, Price Utah Walmart was our evening destination with another quiet stay over. Of course there were a few items still on our list of provisions. My nightly hikes always include a few trips into the Walmart store.

Provo Sam's Club was our fuel fill up, and unintended purchase of 2 TV's. The original coach TV's no longer worked with the latest broadcasting systems. Salt Lake City was bypassed on the highway to keep momentum northward. A quick visit to the Smith and Edwards Company

just off the highway, is always a pleasure. Too little time to browse this immense surplus store with it's resident military tank imbedded into the asphalt pavement.

Jerome Idaho was our evening stopover at the noisy Walmart. Lots of heat and the generator shut down. No AC for the afternoon cool down. Boise was our refuel and purchase another TV at Costco, just around the corner from Cracker Barrel..yum.. The smaller of the other two TV's, purchased at Sam's, was not to our satisfaction. It went back into it's box for refund later in the trip. Boise is always busy. They welcome any business driven away from Liberal controlled Oregon by high taxation, regulations and restrictions.

Boise is always doing construction of new commercial buildings, especially manufacturing. The Asian market still enjoys the U.S. export of Ore-Ida French Fries. The loads of them are seen on ships further down the Columbia river route to the Pacific Ocean. Hermiston Oregon Walmart, just off the I-84 is our evening campsite.

Pendleton Oregon is the home of the Pendleton brand of woolen products. It also is the location of the famous Pendleton Roundup, a Rodeo in the top classes of competition.. Last trip was so populated with tourists, the Walmart had traffic attendants, and no remaining vacancy for overnight camping. Next day travel was along the Columbia River south side highway, with it's railways visible along both sides of the river. The Washington side got most of the freight action on this trip.

Just west of The Dalles, is a small Oregon State Park. It's name, Memaloose, refers to 'death' in the Indian term for the burial island. Only 'Sam Hill' is buried there today. The Island is very small now, with the dam raising and taming the wild Columbia River.

I hiked the interesting surroundings and attended a popular evening Ranger talk that explained the area and it's countless hiking and biking trails. The Columbia River Gorge is just one of the exciting side trips. The massive waterfalls are too numerous to describe. Even the interstate highway has a pullout for one of the most famous. 4x4 trails are everywhere. Oregon is rich in back country exploration and history. A State Park guide book is worthwhile for anyone intending to stop and visit this national treasure of a state.

Continuing west down the Columbia River highway to Portland is our goal. Fuel is much cheaper as you approach and pass through Portland. The same goes true for Astoria. The Astoria-Meglar Bridge is a creative engineering feat with it's five mile trip across the mouth of the Columbia River, to Washington State. We enjoy a few evenings at the Cape Dissapointment State Park on the Long Beach Peninsula of Southern Washington.

Being as it was a holiday weekend, we stayed at Ft Stevens State Park in Oregon for the night. Crossover the long bridge and arrival at Cape Dissapointment State Park the next morning was perfect. We got a nice campsite with only one move necessary.

The day trip to famous "Jacks" 'everything' General store, on up the Peninsula, was a nice day in spite of the unseasonal rainy weather. Fish and Chips are getting to be our daily routine now, along the Pacific Coast. The little family owned cafe across the street, north from Jack's is always great. The north side of the Columbia River is home to a busy US Coast Guard Station, as well as historic big gun emplacements and lighthouses along the trails.

At night, their sweeping beams of light are eerily cutting the mist for miles out to sea. Makes an 'after dark' hike on the beach exotic. Leave the resting seals alone. Take a flashlight. The campsite entranceways are difficult to find in the dark. Note the little identity sign to the area you plan to return to, or you may end up in the wrong circle of campers.

The Lewis and Clark interpretive center is a nice diversion near the campground main entrance. After exploring the shoreline villages and the local attractions, we returned to our evening seashore hikes at the quiet campground. Bring bicycles to these interlinked campgrounds. They are cycle friendly for families.

Found the old Singapore based lifeboat had moved a little southward during last winters storms. It always ends up a distance up onto the dunes, amid the log debris after it's little north and south sea voyages along the beach from North Head to the north jetty. The neccessary, endless dredging of the Columbia River by the U.S. Corps of Engineers contractors, is placing ever more sand on the north side of the jetty. The constantly increasing land mass is now drastically reshaping the coastline from when the remarkable Lewis and Clark expedition first saw it.

Violent Winter storms in return, always take away a huge share each year. Evening Ranger Talks are scheduled near 'Waikiki Beach'. A small pizza and snack coach are positioned nearby during the summer months. When near the jettys, explore them in detail. The immense size of the 'Armor' basalt rocks (individually transported from Idaho by barge and rail) can only be seen to be appreciated. Amazing engineering to control the harbor entrances and river passages for navigation.

We spent two nights at wonderful Cape Dissapointment State Park, before returning to always interesting and well kept Ft Stevens State Park on the Oregon side. Advise you aquire an Oregon State Park guide book. Good details of each campground and nearby points of interest saves wandering in the wilderness.

Be sure to take in the fine little tours around historic Ft Stevens. The Massive old Gun Emplacements on the south side of the Columbia River, like the north side, are quite interesting, especially when they darken the big 'gun room'. The litle museum gift shop with it's automated model layouts, is nice as well.

The old railroad trestle of the engineers building the south jetty, is still visible across the wetlands. Nature trails lead in every direction around the parking areas along the river. The infamous shipwreck on the ocean beach is slowly rusting into oblivion and history. Evening Ranger talks are fun and informative. New subjects are covered each evening around a fire.

Side trips back to interesting Astoria are always fun. Fred Meyers Stores are Oregon's competition to Walmart. They do a great job and have really nice facilities. Their Fuel costs are on par with Costco (now moved south to a new location). Even better with their 'rewards' card and easy access to the fuel station. Finding a nearby Mr Fultano's Pizza restaurant is always a great discovery for me.

The world class U.S. Coast Guard Museum and gift shop in historic Astoria, is a definetly 'do not miss' attraction for anyone. Learning about the River Pilots that often risk their lives to bring cargo ships through the dangerous Columbia River Bar, is another interesting piece of information.

Lewis And Clark's adventures are a good way to mentally relive the impossible conditions faced by this intrepid group. They have now rebuilt their winter fort according to drawings, and its history is told in detail during the tours.

Cannon Beach, near where the Lewis and Clark party boiled the seawater for their salt, is a touristy destination. Boutiques and upscale beachside resorts are the attraction, as are near several other quaint Oregon coastline villages. Mr Fultano's Pizza is the best in Cannon Beach.

Now we begin our Oregon State Park adventure south in earnest. Brighton Marina is our next stop. It is small but fun. They will prepare a couple of Dungeness Crabs for your 'in coach' dining or at their tables. Nice new owners (Kelly and his wife) and striving to please.

Rent a boat or crabbing traps, whatever pleases you. Reservatios are advised, or you may find a campsite away from the action. We moved foreward to the bayside on the last evening. Watching the gulls jockey around before nightfall on the dock, is interesting. They take a bath before bedtime..

The next scenic area is the Cape Meares tour of 'The Three Capes' and a stay at the State Park. Two nights are better, due to the attractions such as the lighthouse tour. We noticed the highways arund this area are in desperate need of a 'redo'. The southern coastal highways are far better.

Did you ever hear of Tillamook Oregon? Fine cheese, dairy products and icecream. All products of the nearby small farms (and a few very big ones) Nice tours of the factory and busy everyday. Fun to watch the assembly line wrap the blocks of cheese. Sometimes it 'train wrecks' fun to see.

'Terrible Tillie' is the famously dangerous Lighthouse located on Tillamook Rock. Quite a story of her creation that even killed the first engineer. The Oregon Coast is lighthouses all aong the coast within site of each other. Visit all (but Tillie) along your trip.

Take advantage of every pullout along the 101 hwy. Each offers a spectacular view of the Pacific Ocean..... far below at times.

A museum, previously a Dirigible Hangar, is nice for a nearby break south of Tillamook. It houses a collection of vintage aircraft. Last year a twin engine alomost made it to the runway. Bumped down in a pasture north of the field.

Motorcycles and biycles, including a few really bizzare mechanical creations, are traveling all along this scenic 101 coastal route. Be careful and give them clearance as you pass. They each have their own story about their personal adventure. Enjoy talking to a few along the way. They, like other visitors along this magical journey, are from many different countries. Many post blogs about their trips.

Tillamook is always a fun stopover. Spending some time sightseeing the 'Three Capes' and checking out the Tillamook Cheese Factory tour is fun. Great icecream in dozens of flavors, to sample as well. The old Dirigible Hangar south of town is still housing the Air Museum as well.

The lighthouse tours are still open to the public. Not the 'Terrible Tillie' of lighthouse fame (it is planned as a repository for ashes of the deceased). Scenic, scenic and more scenic is descriptive of the entire Oregon Coast. That is one reason we return. The weather patterns are much cooler than previous years of our travels.

The entire tortured and serene coastline of Oregon has fascination at every curve in the 101 highway. The camera will be busy, but it never does justice to seeing it with your own eyes and emotions. Crossing the high basalt mountain cliffs, and looking down at endless miles of Pacific Ocean coastline, is never to be forgotten. You will want to return again and again, always seeing some view you almost had forgotten.

Newport Harbor

is a great place to spend some quality time. So much to see, we often drive the surrounding area for days. The beautiful Yaquina Bay Bridge

built in 1936 by Master Engineer Conde McCoullough, is my favorite. Our view from the coach, sitting on the front line at the Newport Marina RV Park, is great and a relaxing way to spend the twilight hours. As the sun sets, the girders silloutte the harbor entrance.

I walk the harbor and docks several times nightly. The Newport Belle, Bed and Breakfast

is usually getting it's finer details redone and upgraded. A new glass enclosed 'suite' is gracing her upper deck. The Belle is now for sale, from what the owner told me during my evening walk. He said he and his wife are ready to move on to other endeavors.

He fondly refers to 'Keith' as their local 'Popeye'. Keith, my old seafaring aquaintance from years past, still is docked and living aboard his pacific ocean sailer with his wife. Keith has worked at the recreational marina RV park for a few years now. His stories of international adventure at sea, will entertain anyone for hours.

He now owns a refurbished and beautiful Lifeboat for his own unique 'fishing craft'. Powered by it's little Perkins Diesel, it putts along the river, finding some solitude for it's Captain and his wife. Keith periodically sits in river, in the shade of his new deck cover, picking out a few tunes on his guitar (seafaring?:>).

Keith says there are way too many Sea Lions for the harbor to support. They have taken over the commercial docks and harbor jetty, to the entertainment of tourists. We often are serenaded to sleep by their distant 'barking'. One aggressive Bull, grabbed and submerged a small child from a low floating dock. Luckily she surfaced with only a serious bite to her legs.

Environmentally protected Sea Lions are in huge numbers unequaled in relative history. They make sport of the Salmon runs, killing for the fun of it. Hopefully someone of influence in the 'Pom Pom Press', will have the foresight to limit the 'Soft Cute Cuddly' aspect of this top predator. The migrating Orcas periodically inflict their natural 'control', but not nearly enough.

After driving more of Oregon's beautiful and memorable coastline, we arrived in Brooking's Harbor

The Marina RV park was full, so accepted a back row site until available front row opened up. Foggy and overcast for a couple of days. Jetty Fog horn provided a little ambiance. Moved forward after site was open. Sunshine sputtered for a bit and fog lifted temporarily. Summer was not a warm and sunny experience for Oregon coast this year. We left two weeks earlier for this trip to attempt a chance at beating the fall downturn in temps. No workee, still caught the cool weather.

I walked the docks and jetties no matter what. Had to do something to pass the time, and hiking the interesting territory is great. The marina and jetty 'cats' are still surviving due to the daily dillignce of the 'cat ladies'. While I am wearing the red LED headlamp, it makes their eyes glow like red embers in the darkness of my nightly hikes.

Met up with Ray on the docks once again. He always has stories to tell. Ray is an old salt that is a 'live aboard' on one of his sail boats. Ray owns about five or six at any given time. He buys and sells them to earn a little profit and pay the slip fees. He was also a pilot before retirement.

Ray left the army after the WWII years. Spent a little time in South America doing some quasi-mercinary work. Returning to th east coast, he bought an old sail boat and Zenith Transoceanic battery powered radio. Set the antenna for a station in England. Turned it on for a few minutes each night while adjusting his course. Ray ended up in Wales, sold the boat to a local Barrister and booked his flight home on a TWA Constellation.

I have just returned from my nightly prowl. Been raining steadily the last days. Cabin Fever got to me. I had to get out and patrol the harbor. Security you know.. :>)

Found out that after windbreakers are washed, they are no longer waterproof. Got soaked clear through my other clothing. Eveerything is hanging up to dry now. Have to re-spray the windbreakers again with water repellent.

The harbor was 'breathing' tonight.
All of the moored boats were drifting in unison from one end of their slip, then back to the other end. Sort of got me seasick just watching the entire fleet do their waltz. :>) I walked on out to the middle of the docks to get the full effect in surround visuals...

Even the big boats that were moored alongside the docks, waltzed from side to side, to the throb slosh of the tidal swells. Any 'Live Aboards' will be rocked to sleep. The ocean waves are increasing in intensity. Should be a nice roar for us seawall 'front liners' to sleep by tonight.

The U.S. Corps of Engineers is dredging the harbor and entrance with a massive piece of equipment. The process continues for an around the clock matinee. The daily parade of 'shore watchers' are interested in the goings on. It is like NASCAR for coast watchers.

Reluctantly left our front row moorage and headed south. The remaining southern coast of Oregon has much to see. Bicycle and motorcyclists never stop their voyages along this scenic highway 101. They stay in motels or camp near the attractions, depending on their wishes. The Oregon 101 highway to the south is in much better condition than the Cape Meares area around Tillamook.

Coos Bay and it's surrounding area

is worth at the very least, a couple of nights stay for travelers with some spare time. The river front Old Mill Casino has a large parking lot, as well as a very nice full hookup park for those so inclined.

Free parking in the big lot works for us. A quick tour of the casino shows us how fast dollars can disappear into the mesmerizing machines. During my extensive evening hikes, I found the ancient harbor dock timbers and concrete logging mill remains from a far more prosperous time, more interesting.
Restrictions and regulations drive away entire cultures and prosperity, not only environmental concerns.

More History abounds around the beautiful Simpson estate land and it's gardens, now a State Park. The pioneering family had grand visions for Coos Bay. Many were eventually fulfilled, many were not. The Simpson family lost some and won some. Mostly lost his fathers and his wealth to personal disasters on a grand scale.

The ocean artists always congregate at the nearby scenic cape near the river entrance, with it's interesting menagerie of Sea Lions and Seals. Cool ocean breeze, so take appropriate clothing just in case. Good beach hiking down through the rocks.... like a Deer. Remote River Lighthouse (automatic beacon) along the drive, is inaccessible, so don't even try. Private property surrounds it anyway.

The sand dunes around Umpqua, further south along the coast, are always interesting. How trees can grow in those huge sand mountains, is fascinating. The fact that the environmentalists have not stopped the 'off highway vehicles' from enjoying the fun in the sand, is one good sign in an ever more restrictive society. The economy around the area would suffer greatly if the 'enviros' had their way. The famous lighthouse is in danger again.

This time from politics and cost cutting resulting from overspending in other Federal areas. The US Coast Guard station high on the hillside, maintains it presently. The lack of Federal funds now threatens to remove the Coast Guard Base

and shut down the light or possibly install an automated small beacon, and remove the historic 7 foot tall rotating 'First Order' Fresnel lens. If left unattended by official forces, society's ever present, parasitic 'VANDALS' will destroy it.

A remote State Park near the lighthouse, has great hiking trails through the heavily forested sand mountains. Finding a small hidden lake, highlights the hikes.

While camped at the pleasant and interesting Winchester Harbor marina, we of course went for great Fish and Chips at Cassie's Unger's Bay Floating Restaurant

As always, her little floating restaurant is a pleasure. The wild ducks still hang around for snacks. Pretty Cassie was attending a festival in Bandon to exhibit her prowess in the culinary arts. She still arranged by phone, to have a 'coupon' for a portion of our meals. Thank You Cassie.

Leaving the last of the Oregon coast, we cross into California. Always vigilant state border guards asked about our 'produce' on board. Coming aboard for 'an agricultural inspection' and satisfied, we were allowed to proceed through this corner of California, to get to Medford Oregon. Suggest you ask for a California State Park guide at the checkpoint, if you intend to camp in California parks.

The Redwood Highway across the northern part of California is a fine way to drive without getting bored. Camp in the parks for the true Redwood Ambiance. They smell wonderful. You will want to get out and walk among the giants of the forest. The John Muir Forest was our campsite during one trip. The little information office and interpretive building, had a beautifully restored RV mounted on a 4x4 Nash truck chassis. It was made from a Redwood Log....back in the early 1900's.

Leaving the pleasant and busy town of Medford, after one night at the newest and most pleasant (for us) Crater Lake hwy Walmart, The drive south past Mt Shasta is one of the most scenic routes in America. The snow capped mountain plays a game of hiding and reappearing on various quadrants of the compass. along the entire day's journey.

The Sacramento valley is well irrigated this time. Shasta reservoir, though down from it's peak, is filling nicely after last winter's snow melt. Already Mt Shasta is snow capped, foretelling a heavey snow winter, if it continues as predicted. So much food is produced in the valley, that a major problem would befall the USA if politicians have their way and divert the water to flush toilets in the densely populated cities.

When asked where their food comes from, the 'no clue' uneducated but 'voting' city dwellers, just reply 'Safeway grocery store'...

Black Butte Reservoir

offers the Corps of Engineers Campground to enjoy. We stayed two nights. Great hiking at all times. Last year was especially enjoyable with the curious Cougar prowling the area. This is a reasonably priced campground and lots of curious Deer. They walk up to the open door of the Motor Home and peer in, as if to say "may we see how you live"?

This time the drive back toward our NM home, was done over California's historicaly famous Donner Pass

A slowly increasing altitude to over 7 thousand feet, produced an alarming mixture of chemical smells in the coach. The containers of spray cleaners all had pumped out, due to the lower outside atmospheric pressure. Even an old liquid filled compass leaked it's extremely odorous 'oil'. Co-pilot has severe dissabilities associated with chemical odors. Stopping to locate and remove the leaking containers 'after the summit' was exciting. The eastbound 'down mountain' traffic flew past the coach, while we searched for the sources of strong chemical pollution.

The rig's descent down the east side, from the top of Donner Pass, is far faster than the gradual climb up the west slope. First gear overreving prevention with lots of braking were required. Stops at intervals to allow brake cooldown, are advised for heavy vehicles. Fortunately, before this trip, I had replaced the brake fluid with the latest DOT 4 and it's higher temperature limits.

The condition of the heavily used and ice tortured eastbound lane of the Donner Pass highway, is akin to a decayed infrastructure of a war zone. Tire chains and winter ice salt, take their toll. Pavement is severely cracked into large fissures that even affect the oversized tires of the coach. The concrete barriers, narrowing the highway to one lane, allow a 10 inch margin on each side of the rapidly descending MH, as well as for the big trucks. A tenseness while driving 'the gauntlet' is unavoidable.

Heavily traveled Interstate highway 80 across Nevada and Utah is worth enjoying. The long expanse of good pavement has lots of different things to observe. The Great Salt Lake

is always something to be in awe of. It shimmers on the horizon as you drive the approach over elevated areas. The highway signs across the salt basin, warn of driver drowsiness. Many tracks off of the highway and into the salt encrusted slurry, show that lots of folks ignore the signs. Many parts and remnants of vehicles are left to grow salt sculptures.

We stopped and I walked across the damp but still crunchy surface. The taste of that salt is like non ever tasted before. It burns like fire in your mouth. Spit and spit and spit. Fence posts are salt encrusted into a ball just above the surface of the flats. It sucks the moisture from your pores if you get immersed in the heavily brined water. The saltier end is understandably away from the water runoff from the mountains. An engineered flood control system pumps water away from this very busy industrialized city, in rare high water years that periodicaly threaten flooding.

A causeway engineered across the Great Salt Lake, isolates the fresh water used by the inhabitants of Salt Lake City. Wiper Bass, a non-breeding hybrid is stocked for recreational use in this fresh water lake. Great fishing and water sports are easily accessed from the marina. We camped there on one past trip. The Dead Sea salinity exceeds the rest of the saline portion of the lake.... by a margin.

The ancient Lake Bonneville

exceeding one thousand feet in depth at times, was easily the size of Lake Michigan at certain stages (over 28 so far) of it's existence. Over the millenia, it periodicaly rose and fell to reflect the constantly changing, natural weather patterns of the earth.

Bonneville Salt Flats, on the state line between Nevada and Utah, had no major speed trial event on the day we crossed nearby.

Wendover is now a gambling site and is on the state line, as is Dugway Proving Grounds in Utah. This day Dugway was active. Co-pilot noted the contrails rapidly winding and weaving through the sky. A series of rocket powered guided missile tests were our entertainment worth stopping for. Fast and agile, fired in rapid succession, climbing, looping and diving, they put on qute a show. If they ever lock-on to any aircraft, it would be interesting.

Provo Sam's Club was our overdue refueling stop. The GPS co-ords were set to the wrong address. We ended up in the center of the University campus...during game day. A fast re-do by our co-pilot, followed by intricate waltzing through the heavy traffic and we found the Costco instead.

Price Utah was our destination for the night stopover at Walmart. Passing through 'Helper' is interesting. The heavily loaded freight trains needed a Helper engine at this point to get over the pass. the little town was created to support the engines and crews. Green River Utah is a nice place to start a voyage down the Grand Canyon. At least Major John Wesley Powell thought so in the 1800's. He did a remarkable job considering he only had one arm. The othe lost in battle.

Moab Utah is a destination in itself. It would take years to see the canyons and rock formations surrounding that little tourist motel town. Jeep trips and canyon tours are endless no matter what the weather.

Our destination of the day, was the last stopover at Walmart in Farmington New Mexico. Quite the busy small city, it is on the perimeter of the Indian reservations. We dumped the Black holding tank and transferred the gray as a rinse while driving back to home port in ABQ NM.
200 miles later we arrived safe and sound at our terminal, the front yard where we unloaded and did the required maintenance. Now to plan the next trip. Time is short and no way to know when we will be unable to see the sights of this great nation.

One Nation Under God, The United States of America.

Wisconsin 'Summer Kid'

2010-07-31T05:33:00.000-07:00

WABENO WISCONSIN...Trump Lake

After WWII came to a victorious close, Prosperous times once again returned to the USA. My Grandparents built a varnished pine log with green shingled roof, uninsulated small one room cabin. On the entrance road was the handmade sign from a friend, 'Pappy's Dream'. The little cabin was built on the NE shore of TRUMP LAKE in the Nicholet National Forest of Northern Wisconsin (Wisconsin natives refer to any place with trees, as "Da Woods":>).

Following years of WWII Rationing and Deprivation, 'Everything' quickly became obtainable and 'War Bonds' were cashed in. Being almost 9 yrs old, I started spending the summers (freezing winter snows often touched the eaves) at little, obscure Trump Lake. Usually accompanied by my Dear, patient and understanding Grandmother. After a time, younger sister with cousins and friends, also visited and enjoyed the 'Summer Place'. BTW Understand that out of state 'Summer Kids' are viewed very differently (to put it mildly) by Wisconsin native kids.

Grandpa drove us to the new cabin in his, made in Wisconsin, 1946 Nash ('Kenosha Diesel' or 'Kelvinator', as the Ford, Chevy and Plymouth crowd called it), pulling a little 'one wheeled', very overloaded trailer. It often broke it's one tiny, sprung and swiveled wheel. The design was creative and used two frame bars to fasten the little, light duty box trailer, to the big chrome bumper on the Nash.

Cars of those times, were highly prone to flat tires and 'blowouts'. The old cotton fabric cords were bias diagonal in structure. Unlike the modern Synthetic and steel corded Radial tires of today, they easily overheated and blew out on long heavily loaded trips. One time, either caused by, or taking the Nash wheel rim (mfd by BUDD) with it.

Canadian-French Grandpa periodically used his finely honed mechanical ingenuity to repair the little trailer (and everything else). Items at hand, heavy wire, C Clamps and rope to bimd the tiny trailer wheel back into a somewhat useable configuration. The first of many trips, heavily loaded with construction tools and materials, was an adventure in itself. At that time, countless hundreds of small Cheese factories, were interspersed among the myriad of little Wisconsin Dairy farms..... I am sure the term "Cheese Head" comes to mind?

During the trips, a stop at the little 'Factories' was always in order. The big oblong tanks were filled with Milk The overhead mixing arms slowly tracked from one end of the tank to the other, stirring the milk laced with salt and being temperature controlled. Another stop further down the road, found their tanks filled with what appeared to be course cottage Cheese.

I always enjoyed a golf ball sized Curd, with it's salty taste. Yet another stop may find the tanks empty and the cheese being processed into large muslin wrapped 'Wheels' of various types of Cheese for ageing. The finished 'Cheese Wheels' were placed in round wooden boxes for shipping. The process was ongoing all along the highways of Wisconsin to the northern forests.

Once in the National Forest, the scenery changed dramatically. No longer open rolling 'Morain (remnants of last Ice Age)' fields, with hand stacked field stone barns and fences. Being on roughly the same lattitude as their homeland, the industrious German Immigrants (Legal!!!) knew exactly how to deal with this climate and terrain to make it highly productive and profitable.

The often 'Detoured' Wisconsin county roads, once within the forest, were closed in with walls of trees on both sides. The little towns, some with Indian names, became stranger sounding. 'Wabeno' was our final settlement. It had previously been a major Logging community.

A massive log showing the years of it's existance recorded in the rings, was set on concrete blocks under a roofed structure. A set of monster, spoked wooden wheels, once used to carry logs out of the Forest, were on display in the little park, along with an old steam log hauler

A small 'Frozen Custard and Rootbeer' stand, was my favorite stop in Wabeno. We stocked up with perishables and a block of ice at the little 'Red Owl' grocery store.

The sparsely equipped cabin only had our old 'Ice Box'. Common during the war years. Our squatty, little old wood stove was the heat and cooking facility. The well was a Hand Pounded iron casing, with a pipe leading to the cabin. A hand pump on the sink supplied the water. Eventually Grandpa fitted a shower stall and little electric pump to the shallow well. An outhouse served us for a while until a septic and drain field was dug into a far end of the property.

The trip leaving Wabeno to Trump Lake, was always filled with anticipation. A family of baby skunks blocked our road. We stopped, got out and and watched while the mother encouraged them off into the brush. Birch trees with their white bark, lined segments of road, but mostly Pine, closely forested and mixed with a few Maples, packed densely around the little lake.

A rare trip to the larger towns of Crandon or 'Laona' was exciting. At one time a large Hardwood logging and mill operation was based there. The logging and railroad equipment was displayed proudly in their public areas. An actual Department store was the pride of 'Laona'.

Paul Bunyan's huge hand carved wooden figure, along with Babe his Blue Ox, marked the tourist stops. The little gift shops sold nic-nacs and small boxes made from Cedar. The aroma was locked into my memory, still lingering all of these years.

Across the road from my grand parents lakeshore cabin, the pretty, young Olsen lady and her children, raised Mink near Birch rd. Hundreds of the feisty little beady eyed critters of all colors (I liked the black ones). With the new Post War prosperity, Mink coats in colder climates, were in fashion. My 'sometimes' job, was to feed them...Horsemeat..

A trip to 'educational' Polar Wisconsin, in the old Chevy ranch wagon, with my 'Reality' teacher, Mrs Olsen, taught me the fascinating finer points of Horse Butchering. At that time it was begun with a 22 rifle. Several well placed shots to the cranial cavity, brought down the large animal in the chuted, concrete floored processing barn.

Then began a fast crude process, by tough, rubber aproned and booted men with axes. They rapidly finished the job. A task I will only describe as 'very interesting'. The tough men quickly skinned and reduced the old, worn out and scraggly horses, to a ground 'pulp', to be frozen into large blocks. Mrs Olsen's Chevy wagon was loaded with frozen blocks wrapped in cardboard, for the trip back to Trump Lake.

As needed, Each frozen block was removed from the 'cold room' and thawed on Mrs Olsen's enclosed back porch, to be mixed later with water. A large timber Wolf/Coyote got a snif of the horsemeat one night, broke through the window and rousted out of her bed, the tough Mrs Olsen and her kids. She grabbed her gun and went after him. He jumped back out of the window and screen he had broken, and returned to the forest.... with a chunk of horsemeat in his jaws.

My orders, one large 'military spoonful' per each animal, per cage. Dolloped onto the top wire, just over their metal 'slop dish', was my favorite routine. The Mink went absolutely berserk as we approached with the meat kettle, while pulling the old and squeaky, faded and rusty, red Radio Flyer wagon. I learned quickly to keep fingers away from cages.

The only Mink I could not feed, were the special breeders with babies. The Olsen lady fed them in her quiet manner, to keep them calm. If upset they ATE their babies. Hmmm... some Moms in the 'new's today seem capable of that. Mrs Olsen's husband was an 'over the road' trucker, and rarely home. Rawhide Tough, as well as pretty, Mrs Olsen and her kids ran the 'Mink Ranch' all by themselves.

During the icey cold winter, the lake froze solid and thick. Men with big saws cut blocks of ice for storage in an old 'Ice House' filled with sawdust. The insulating sawdust kept the big blocks frozen through the summer. As kids, we liked to get in to lay in the cool sawdust on hot days. We sometimes used a pocketknife to chip off a smaller chunk of ice, and sucked on it like a popsicle.

Many times we played 'Hide and Seek'. The boundary lines had to be understood beforehand or we would never find each other in the dense pine trees around the cabins. One 'summer kid' by the name of Ricky was far older than his years. Educated in the city, he knew gymnastics. He could swing through the trees then 'leap and roll' from the roofs. Hard to catch Ricky. He also had the fastest boat and flirted with the pretty 'Summer Girls', especially Elizabeth.

Vacant Lot Baseball, if enough kids available, was always on the agenda. One kid had actually attended 'Baseball Camp'. We were really impresed by Rall's detailed knowledge of the game. He later became a Priest from what I was told by Jim, a Wisconsin native 'lake kid'.

Last time I saw Jim, my wife and I were on a trip to find my old territories. He was retired from teaching at Madison College, and tapping the maple trees at his Trump Lake cabin home. We discussed the Olsens, Paul (never changed:>), Marvin, Doug, Ricky, Elizabeth, Rall and a few others, including Tommy, the kid that owned the little movie theater in Wabeno. :>)

One other Trump Lake 'kid job', was hanging around the nearby riding horses. A string of them took paying riders on the forest trail, to visit the Nicholet National 'Forest Fire Lookout Tower' on the trail to Blackwell (population at the time, 12 humans, 4 cats and several dogs). On hiking trips into the forest, as 'lake kids', we often climbed the very tall tower and looked at the interesting telescopic and triangulation equipment inside.

Rarely was a seasonal (fire season) Ranger in there. It was really a small fully glass enclosed cabin, mounted high on very very tall iron stilts, far above the Forest below. Fun and very exciting climb. "Don't Look Down", were our words of encouragement, passed among all of the climbing kids. Some remained on the terra firma, understandably refusing to climb. 'Sugar Bush' Fire Lookout tower, was reputed to be even taller.

Around sunset the Mosquitos emerged from the dense forest. "The big ones would actually kill and suck dry a horse, then toss his horseshoes to see which ones got the saddle". At least that was what we were told. :>) A wipe of your mosquito covered arm, left a streak of your blood. We were proud of seing who could stand the swarms the longest. That was proof of who was 'The Toughest'.

The horses got ticks..lots of them, and BIG. Picked them all off as we spotted them, loudly shouting "WOW.. look at the size of this one".. Big blood bloated, firm blue ones were the most fun. Same process with the local Hounds. Ticks got in their ears. 'Blue Tick Hounds' for sure. Grandma checked me every night for the little reddish brown Ticks before bed. Had to be careful, use various methods and Not leave the head embedded (infection). Turpentine, Kerosene, freshly burnt, wooden Diamond Brand matches, were all home remedies.

Always creative, Canadian Frenchman Grandpa, had built a bunk style double decker, double bed. Every night following an interesting day, was slept in a 'rock like' state of hibernation. Morning was often started with Coffee, bacon and eggs cooked on the little wood stove. Chopping wood was my chore..

Some mornings involved a trip across the lake to the little store on Sunset Point. It was operated by the Newton's. I was often sent rowing to find fresh milk. Milk came in a cone shaped container that worked as a Megaphone after the bottom was cut out. Grandma often used it to call me in from the lake.

Every day was spent either hiking the dark forest trails, or exploring every swampy, floating island lilly pad and Venus Fly Trap covered area of the lake, including the mysterious other little lake 'Eugene' at the far west end. The unique Call of the ever present Loons were really wonderful in the evening. Never caught one. About the time you boated over to them, they dived under the water and emerged many yards away. All of the daily adventures were done in our beautiful small Green thin plywood veneered row boat named Sea Wolf. Mr Wolf built and sold them by the dozens. Thank You Grandpa.

A small hog pen was at the far end of the other little lake 'Eugene', hidden in the trees. A Bear had killed a hog. The hunters went in search of the Bear. They found it with it when it returned to eat more Hog, killed it and displayed it in Wabeno at the little town Locker. Asked if I wanted to see the rogue Bear, I was really excited. As we drove up to the hanging, skinned Bear, I was shocked to see that it looked like a very big naked Man...

I hiked with wide eyes on the forest trails after that. Deer were always everywhere...but Bears...?

Fishing was of course a major pastime. Iridescent Bluegill, brilliant Sunfish, Crappy and the rare, fascinating Northern Pike and 'Musky' with sharp teeth, was on every daily fish hunting safari. I lost many a red and white 'Daredevil' casting lures into bottom debris. Endlessly repeated 'Backlash' on the Southbend open spool casting reels ('spin cast' was not yet easily available), saved many a fish. Bamboo poles were swung wildly by kids. On one occasion, a night crawler was freshly put on the hook and swung in an arc by a nearby fishing friend.

The hook painfully snagged my eyebrow. Jerking away, and dragging his cane pole, while running into the cabin, I yelled to Grandma, "My Eye, My Eye". She about dropped her dishes, seeing the wriggling, dangling night crawler glob, hanging from my eye. She said later, she thought my eye was hanging down on my cheek. Sorry to cause you so much stress in my life, Grandma.

The crystal clear lake with easily seen bottom (20 ft) was purposely scattered with large square 'fish structures', meant to enhance breeding and hatchlings. On clear, wind free days, the boat appeared to magically hover in mid air over the bottom far below. Fish could be seen hanging motionless at various depths. They never would bite in those wave free, sunny circumstances, even if you bumped their noses with the worm.

A little silver antique Johnson outboard, with a U shaped, very dented tubular tank around the motor of less than 1 hp, powered my cruiser... well sort of. Most all times I had to 'pull oars'.

Desperate for the sound of 'horse power', I wound and pulled on that rope for hours. Wore out the rope, tied a new knot, wound it around the pulley, and pulled some more. 'Hard to start', were not the words for that little old Johnson. Christmas, Grandpa bought a new beautiful Deep Green Scott-Atwater of 3.8 hp.

Summer came agonizingly slow. Trip to Trump Lake cabin was with great anticipation. I was very excited to show this powerful New Motor to the native Wisconsin friends I had met the last summer. I dragged the new Scott down to the dock, rolled over the inverted boat, mounted the mighty Scott on the transom and launched, now magnificent, 'Sea Wolf'. I was in heaven. Scott started on the first pull and It actually left a wake :>) At that time, a Five Horsepower outboard was a 'Big' motor on the lake.

Very confident of their excitement, I buzzed over to the Public Ground, where the kids often camped. As I approached the beach, they started shooting a single shot BB gun at me. I yelled at them to "quit it, remember me"? They laughed and kept cocking the break action BB gun, spitting BB's (kept them in their mouth) into the end of the barrel, and firing at me. They Stung, I only had a T shirt on. Dejected, I started the Scott-Atwater and putted back to the cabin.

Walking in the door with my spirits dampened into despair, I saw my other recent 'post war' Christmas aquisition leaning against the wall. A new Daisy Red Ryder, lever action repeater with a leather thong. Never one to run away from a reasonably fair fight, I roared back to approach the enemy campground.

They started firing that 'break action' single shot again...and laughing. While at the cabin, I had also put on my leather jacket. Now properly Armored... 'And Armed', I stood up in the coasting boat and sent 'lever Actioned' dozens of BB's rapid fire, accurately targeting and stinging each and every kid.

They began howling and running for the trees. It only took about a dozen hits to make the biggest kid (one with the gun) recognise superior firepower, throw down his little single shot weapon, tear off his T shirt and frantically wave it from behind a tree, shouting 'Truce, Truce'. I beached Sea Wolf, dismounted and strode ashore like General Douglas McCarther. By now extremely confident and prepared, with already cocked Red Ryder swinging casually at my side.

Like Dogs sniffing butts, we warily reaquainted with each other, and re-formed our bond.......until the next Summer.

Blogengeezer, the Wisconsin 'Summer Kid'..

My first Command

2010-07-28T20:36:00.000-07:00

Diamond Lake had a gathering place called 'The Pavillion'. It was popular during WWII. I remember watching our young Mom and Dad dance to a band. The Pavillion was heated by a big giant pot bellied stove. The inner walls, surrounding the dance floor, were very wide and painted a pale blue.

I crawled up into the big open round holes to view the goings on. I remember hearing a particular song one evening. Mom and Dad were slowly turning, on the wooden dance floor with other couples. I recall asking a nearby young soldier, quietly standing in uniform while watching the other young couples, "What is that song"? His quiet demeaner and reply is as clear in my memory all of these years later. "ALICE BLUE GOWN".

The little amusement park on the beach nearby, had an engine driven set of swing chairs, each on four chains, that flew out from the capstan as it spun. The engine would shake it's radiator and backfire as it was throttled by the operator. A Merry-go Round (Carouselle), driven by a similar engine, and the little 'kiddie boats' in a round tank of water, were the other 'rides'.

During the WWII years the little amusement park rarely was operated, and a big local event when it did. All too soon our entire little amusement park fell into disrepair and neglect. The Merry-go-Round with it's colorful horses and musical pipe organ, was eventually dismantled, as was the twirling swing ride and little boats. The Roller Rink was still in use for a few years from what I recall.

The little old wooden boats from the 'kiddie ride', were stored in an old screened in shed, under the roller Rink. Some crows that talked, were held in captivity in there, with the little boats.

Infonote: from younger sister:>)
Alice Blue Gown was a popular WW I song from 1919 Broadway musical ‘Irene’...then made into a film in 1940 (although imdb.com doesn’t list it). Teddy Roosevelt’s daughter Alice favored the pale tint of azure which was referred to as ‘Alice Blue’.....

I vaguely recall a dilapidated merry-go-round and the round set of swings on metal chains at Diamond Lake Beach, but not the boats (note from brother: they were long before, 'set to sail'...by your older brother and his Pirate crews:>). The roller rink was popular when I was in 8th grade but it became a hang-out for more daring teens...got a ‘bad name’ so I stopped going there.
Sister::

Adventure Story of the 'little boats':
In the midwest where I grew up on a very little farm, My first 'Command' was a pirated Derelict from an old abandoned amusement park from the 30's. The little planked wooden boat was just one of several left in storage from the very old 'kiddie ride'. Several of them escaped during a late winter storm..... and neighborhood kids.

After school, a half dozen of the most adventuresome 6th graders, held a meeting at a friends lake side dock, where the pirated boats had been pulled ashore. The future of the little boats were our discussion topic. Myself, being one of the tallest 6th graders...'Took the Con'... on one of the most seaworthy craft.

Three 'Pirated' ships were in my 'flotilla'. Only two (6th grade elementary school) 'men' per boat. A Bow man and a Stern man using sticks for oars, and even then, if not fer her skinny mates 'dancin' lively, she was often 'to the gunnels' and near swamping. Constant Baling was the Only way to keep her afloat. The planks were shrunken from years of storage, and took a bit of 'pounded rag' to keep her caulked and Seaworthy.

One crew had rigged a bedsheet amidship on their Pirate Scow, for sail and shelter. The most dangerous crossing was the deep lake with a bit of ice, runnin' a brisk and cold Chop at the time. No margin fer error. Our pirated ships, having lived their working life in a circular tank, had no flotation chambers. Definetly Not designed fer 'heavy weather' at sea.

The heavy winter thaw overflow from the spring fed lake, was sufficient at 'High Tide' to launch our fleet's voyage over the top of the overflowing retaining dam and flooded roadway.
The adventure was on. The Armada was underway, the uneventful float ride through neighborhood back yards and vacant lots was interesting, but mild in comparison to what was to come.

Each day after school, in the pouring rain, we repeatedly returned to our fleet, set sail for a couple more miles (nautical of course). Minor depressions of terrain in dry times, became navigable waterways during the major flood. Eventually the little fleet was destined to cross flooded fields, at first under and then over fences, shooting through fast running concrete drainage tunnels, over flooded roadways, under railroad trestles, and around flooded barns. Excitement and problem solving came while ducking under a mesh of 'Iron wire' telephone lines and navigating around the flood engulfed poles and crossarms.

Several times in open water, we came around in a 'Blow', and listed almost to the 'Point of No Return'. The tops of the fence posts were a hazard, Barbed wire on fenced fields, lurked below the waves. Each evening 'Shore Leave' was any firm place we could dock. The cold, water soaked crews, slogged through the mud, back to home port. The returns to warm shelter and 'Bisquit', became longer and longer each night.

The waters current became faster and wilder as we approached the larger flooded streams. Eventually all hands were busy to exhaustion, soaked and chilled to the bone. The other two ships were lost when their crews conspired, abandoned them in a mutiny, and never returned from 'shore leave'.

Me 'Flagship' stayed the course alone into the unknown and never before seen vastness of the flood. Our 'wreck at sea' came about during a wild ride down a majorly swollen River course that was way outside its banks. Gradually the current increased in speed. The distance that took us an hour to do previously, was speeded along within minutes.

The flooded fields were being covered by our craft at an ever increasing clip. As the minutes went by, the increasing current volume steadily speeded up. Quickly we were sucked into the fast moving more powerful current laden with flood debris, with no way of escape. Becoming totally out of control and mildly concerned, we became reduced to only hanging on for the ride. A rapidly approaching, major tree and fence line of flood debris, snagged our once proud vessel. We learned immediately about river 'Hydraulics' and it's dangers.

As our ship breached and slowly rolled under, in the deadly grasp of the long fence line of debris clogged barbed wire hundreds of yards from firm land, survival became very real. Me and me 'mate', grabbed on and began the crawl hand over hand along the debris laden barbed wire fer a hundred meters. The shipwreck and icey long trudge back to home port, took me and me mate, a couple of hours in the night rain..... in mutual silence..

Only By the Grace of God (truly), and Mom's Prayers, I am here today to tell the story of 'men' at sea. :>)
Blogengeezer