tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-268130802012-01-21T19:42:21.286-06:00Meanderings on Two WheelsRides, ramblings and rants on a motorcycle.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.comBlogger6241100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-62616250660571086672012-01-06T07:53:00.001-06:002012-01-06T07:54:30.267-06:00Sam's Lessons of the Desert 1"If you can't make peace with the past, change the story. Cast yourself as the hero, not the victim. It might have been you in that happy ending and you just didn't realize it. One way or another it will become less important as time passes." - Lesson Twelve, December: the Moon of the Enchanting Dark Sky. From Twelve Lessons of the Desert, by Sam Richardson.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-7301333094236951552012-01-06T07:50:00.000-06:002012-01-06T07:50:25.888-06:00Friday's Reality IFriday's Reality: Disembarking from the commuter train in the dark, I think about many hours later when I will be standing on the platform in the sunshine, thinking about many hours before when I was thinking about thinking ahead.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-62604752786236709232012-01-04T07:59:00.000-06:002012-01-04T07:59:45.799-06:00Home. Again.Home is where some hang their hats. Home is where some hang their spurs. Home is where I hang my heart.
Returned in body but not in spirit to this place I call Another Wrong World. Where I continue to be Zombie-like, play the academic, watching out for the cityzens always in a hurry to die, my head and heart still back in the desert covered with desert dust fairies and blown asunder with gritty Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-86156944267214974952011-12-08T13:45:00.000-06:002011-12-08T13:45:36.060-06:00A Personal WeekendI usually avoid or ignore my birthday. Actually, I often forget it. This year, when asked, "What do you want for your birthday?", my response was "Nothing. I don't want any 'thing'. I want to go camping and be with my wild buddies." And so we did.
We spent a lovely weekend at the Hagerman National Wildlife Refuge near Lake Texoma (a reservoir on the Red River, bordering Oklahoma). We tent campedMacrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-50188566319797494802011-11-08T12:55:00.001-06:002011-11-08T12:55:52.135-06:00The SacredHow does one describe seeing, experiencing this?Wonderful, awesome, magnificent, incredible? I choose sacred. Because they take you up and along with them in spirit during their flight. We are humbled by something so majestic and beautiful. It is sacred.
Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.
A chance encounter and shared moment with one of natures greatest and most fleeting phenomena.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-9498254992298622392011-10-26T07:20:00.006-05:002011-10-26T07:31:17.088-05:00Learning AdobeA two-day workshop learning and building adobe in New Mexico. September 2011.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-72850146101373781212011-10-18T17:47:00.001-05:002011-10-18T17:59:54.490-05:00Why I love TexasThank you, Wyman.
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-14508726860619228692011-10-18T17:46:00.002-05:002011-10-18T17:50:14.093-05:00Sunrise and Lincoln, NMThe last day. Or, the last day in New Mexico, which for me is the end of the trip. Crossing the state line into Texas is like walking back into the rabbit hole. At least, where I am now.
I was up before sunrise and took Buck for a walk up to the knob that provides a 360 degree view of the lava beds. The sun was rising, and it was my Alone Time to commune with some of my 'buddies'. And take a Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-33737689536470645962011-10-16T18:38:00.005-05:002011-10-18T17:54:27.802-05:00Valley of Fire, MNFriday came, and time to head back. We took our time loading up and pulling out. On the way to Bernardo a week ago on Hwy 380, we passed a place called Valley of Fire. So we stopped there and set up camp for the rest of the day and night.
Valley of Fire Campground
I'm going to cheat and paste in an excerpt from their website (recovering from surgery and tired):"Valley of Fires recreation Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-74649769995129969682011-10-16T18:15:00.002-05:002011-10-18T17:57:14.404-05:00Chain of Craters Backcoutry Byway
After stopping at the visitor's center for the El Malpais area to obtain road maps, we turned south on a dirt road. The road was well maintained. In fact, it was being graded even as we drove on it. We passed the grader and waved to the driver.
Ponderosa pines, pinyon pines, junipers, some oaks, volcanic rock, pumice. It was all wonderful and grand. And it went on for thirty miles.
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-35075928381668121452011-10-16T13:41:00.001-05:002011-10-16T13:42:25.850-05:00Bandera Crater and Ice Cave, NMThe days were going by quickly. Too quick. There was one last place where I had my heart set on going: El Malpais.
Malpais is Spanish for 'badlands'. And in a sense it was, or is. Yet, I view it as wonderful lands. The area was covered with lava flow from the mountains north (Mount Taylor) millions of years ago, but that was only the first eruption. Later, rifts in the earth's crust bled hotMacrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-57940596611497435952011-10-16T13:25:00.000-05:002011-10-16T13:25:01.548-05:00Bosue del Apache Wildlife Refuge, NMThe next day we went south to visit another wildlife refuge; Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. Covering thousands of acres along the Rio Bravo, it is the winter home for thousands of birds, mostly geese and sandhill cranes. The Rio Bravo is a stop on the Central Flyway for migratory birds that winter on the Rio Bravo or as a stop over on their way to Mexico and Central America.
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-14621720079937912842011-10-16T13:15:00.001-05:002011-10-16T13:17:41.719-05:00Alburquerque and Acoma PuebloSeveral weeks before we left, I had contacted Growing Awareness Urban Farms in Albuquerque to arrange for a visit. So the next day, we started our way north to the big city to find the place. Scattered across a street is a group of buildings that comprise the East Christian Ministries and the GAU Farm. They acquired the rundown and almost condemned buildings to restore and turn into a Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-68595557677608762562011-10-16T12:56:00.000-05:002011-10-16T12:56:53.615-05:00Sevilleta National Wildlife Refuge, NM
The next morning we relaxed; not having any commitments to be anywhere. We decided to take a bike ride south to visit one of the several wildlife refuges in the area. Sevilleta National Wildlife Refuge, just north of Socorro is one of the largest in the country.
It is especially unique in that it is the northern most section of the Chihuahuan desert. Four ecosystems (or biomes) converge Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-68651807463536206862011-10-16T12:31:00.003-05:002011-10-16T12:35:21.155-05:00New Mexico BoundWith two little bikes in the pickup bed and travel trailer in tow, we headed west to central New Mexico after work Thursday, 9/22. The main focus of this trip was participating in an adobe building workshop in Bosque, NM. We decided to extend it into a week's vacation; one that was sorely needed.
I had scouted for a rest stop to spend the night in Snyder, TX. I think we got the last spot Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-13336692849399887912011-08-14T15:08:00.002-05:002011-08-14T15:15:50.446-05:00After the Rain"An American anthropologist once asked a Hopi Indian why all his people's songs were about water. Because it is so scarce, the Hop replied; is that why all your songs are about love?"
- Gregary McNamee, in The Desert Reader
Dusk after rain on the home prairie.
Where the early morning sun lights patches of grass, the dew makes the green iridescent. Illuminated leaves of trees facing the Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-7082857044721372872011-08-11T14:55:00.000-05:002011-08-11T14:55:24.360-05:00Video of HomeBig Bend, Texas.Brought to you by 'naturalistnotebook' on YouTube.
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-74883683234191297432011-08-11T07:57:00.001-05:002011-08-11T07:57:45.859-05:00What's 'Memory'?Due to life's elephant (charging through the china shop) and the dry Texas furnace, riding the bike has been temporarily suspended, except for the hot drudgery of weekday commuting in 110 degrees F in rush hour traffic (thank goodness for my vest that holds cold water). (Exception: upcoming week-long trip to New Mexico for an adobe building workshop and exploring the surrounding landscapes; more Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-37244296123888419752011-07-23T12:01:00.000-05:002011-07-23T12:01:40.061-05:00PossibilitiesScience occasionally sneaks into this blog. That is because being a scientist is often more than just test tubes, critters, graphs and figures. It is a way of thinking. It is also a part of culture, who we are and where we live. Science is the universe that we live in; science is us, and everything else.
David Eagleman, a neuroscientist at Baylor University in Houston, Texas, explains it Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-81193505696117081542011-07-22T08:33:00.000-05:002011-07-22T08:33:49.717-05:00Fourth of Julyl Weekend in Big BendI had composed a rather lengthy post relating the recent trip to our place in Big Bend: building and erecting the first structure on El Punto Coyote, the sad state of affairs with the severe drought, a morning walk, an adobe structure nearby, and a relaxing visit to Cedar Springs Ranch, our friend Randy's place in the desert.
And then Blogger ate it. The site froze, crashed, and my entire post Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-85609396287452783802011-07-11T09:23:00.000-05:002011-07-11T09:23:28.564-05:00Experimental Error: Most Likely to Secede - Science Careers - Biotech, Pharmaceutical, Faculty, Postdoc jobs on Science CareersExperimental Error: Most Likely to Secede - Science Careers - Biotech, Pharmaceutical, Faculty, Postdoc jobs on Science Careers"We thought we would rule the world. Then we got actual science careers."Brilliant. And so true......Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-53176440606033214052011-06-30T08:04:00.001-05:002011-06-30T08:18:22.462-05:00Going Home
Lake Ahmet area, north of Big Bend National Park, looking west.
By sunrise tomorrow morning, we will be running south down the tarmac to that place I call 'Home.' As the sun pushes back the darkness and hides the stars, the landscape will have changed from green bunched trees and browning grasses to a never-ending horizon of sky dotted with mesquite. By noon, mountains and cacti will guide us Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-68357819249951232862011-06-27T08:14:00.000-05:002011-06-27T08:14:29.710-05:00The Deliberate BirderPaul Charland, a U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service employee, writes: "Grasslands are on the front line of conservation." Paul is on a roundtrip grasslands motorcycle trek from Wisconsin to Iowa, Oklahoma and North Dakota. Read his observations and see photos of the landscape as he travels.
The Deliberate BirderMacrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-38779522973598014852011-06-14T12:18:00.000-05:002011-06-14T12:18:50.513-05:00What is real?"Reality is layered, the visible no more or less real than the invisible. The wise, therefore, appreciate the truths in appearances, not just the truths behind them."- Julian BagginiMacrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-69912724003277639902011-06-09T07:44:00.000-05:002011-06-09T07:44:38.482-05:00Coyote SpeaksWake up.
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-75193968193129763982011-06-06T13:10:00.000-05:002011-06-06T13:10:12.759-05:00Dirt Track Productions - Motorcycle Chang paDirt Track Productions - Motorcycle Chang pa
Filmmaker Gaurav Jani is back. From his solo motorcycle journey, Riding Solo To The Top Of The World, from Mumbai, India, to China, and one of the remotest places in the world, the one-man film unit is on the road again. This time a full year in the Changthang desert in the Himalayas. Having watched and delighted in the first two narratives of Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-32193885585585204762011-06-06T12:46:00.001-05:002011-06-06T12:46:38.626-05:00Monday BS Episode 1Today is Monday One of Four Mondays in the week. So here is a bit of BS for Monday One:
Observation:When a bowl of soup explodes in the microwave, it makes an awfully big mess. I was impressed at how much stuck to the roof of the compartment.BS Explanation:Microwaves are little anti-gravity compartments. Food gravitates to the top, sometimes the sides, of the inside of microwaves, no matter Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-58693657231103603832011-05-20T08:09:00.002-05:002011-05-20T13:01:34.485-05:00From the Other SideShamelessly borrowed from the Facebook page of Center for the Advancement of the Steady State Economy (CASSE).
Wall Photos
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-37333112834561968632011-05-05T21:15:00.000-05:002011-05-05T21:15:34.187-05:00Darkness, my blanketDarkness comes flowing in, nudging light to move on. It is the cycle. They take turns, as it should be.
As I sit on my couch, cushioned by a sheepskin from one of my yearling lambs on the ranch in Oregon, crickets chirp outside the back windows. Frogs croak from the pond in front of the house, and the pair of Great Horned owls talk back and forth beyond the end of the house. The resident coyote Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-83646197635501415202011-04-16T12:15:00.000-05:002011-04-16T12:15:37.457-05:00The Zeitgeist MovementI have no monumental words that can express the relevance and importance of this movie and it's content.
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-58319901750870782632011-04-14T20:58:00.001-05:002011-04-14T21:01:49.544-05:00Donder und Blitzen, und FIRE!Texas and eastern Mexico are under siege. Accumulative climatic and weather conditions over the past 12 months have resulted in favorable conditions for wildfires. Relatively high moisture of last summer and fall nurtured lush grass growth, which can be a mixed blessing.
Unseasonably high precipitation in Big Bend and other areas of West Texas (and eastern Mexico) meant more water for both Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-51086320238902350602011-04-07T12:45:00.000-05:002011-04-07T12:45:43.499-05:00Motocamping trip
The foursome and the three bikes in front of Meers Restaurant.
A few weekends ago (my, how time speeds away), four of us met together in the chill of the morning and rode north into Oklahoma to spend a three-day weekend camping, hiking and exploring. Our destination was one of my favorite places: the Wichita Wildlife Refuge in southern Oklahoma. Although having spent time there previously, Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-35295510688074780902011-03-24T21:24:00.003-05:002011-06-27T08:26:49.394-05:00Goin' Refugin'Life has been piling up again. As it is wont to do. Little piles here and there; we trip over them, fall down, pick ourselves up and go on. Some times the piles stick to our feet, which we then drag along with us. Shaking that foot doesn't seem to dismiss the stuff that piles are made of.
Other times the piles are suddenly dumped in front of us as we are walking on our merry way. Stop! Now we Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-79682460277673849402011-03-24T20:31:00.000-05:002011-03-24T20:31:45.869-05:00AfloatAt times the wind can be knocked out of your sails, perhaps even feel like a kick in the stomach. And you're left adrift with no compass. But if you sit still, breathe deep, and let the breeze flow over you, you might find the rhythm of the boat, and relax into it.
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-16871481889149920672011-03-06T20:57:00.004-06:002011-03-06T21:01:58.801-06:00A Sense of Place
Diamond Craters, Eastern Oregon
When we fail to understand the real nature of our connection to place, and refuse to understand that connection other than in terms of ownership and control, then not only have we misunderstood ourselves, but we have also lost any real sense of place as such. To have a sense of place is not to own, but rather to be owned by the places we inhabit; it is to Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-38693684581993328202011-02-20T18:37:00.002-06:002011-02-20T18:39:48.735-06:00A Day in VideoA recent Vimeo video by Charlie McCarthy. It's lovely; coupled imagery, motion and music.
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-57867264628719161292011-02-20T16:40:00.000-06:002011-02-20T16:40:27.956-06:00The Art of Seeing: The Mind's Eye
One of my passions is photography. Or perhaps I should clarify that: photographing. Rather than the former passive term, I use the active verb: the act of photographing. This may seem trivial, but it isn't really. The difference became apparent to me over the years of reading travel reports on the Internet, especially by motorcyclists. They all seem the same, to the point that I have stopped Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-31970334669977251462011-02-20T11:36:00.003-06:002011-02-27T07:10:39.589-06:00Fort Worth Nature Center/Wildlife Refuge
Marsh trail
Last Sunday was Spring: warm, sunny -all the smells and charms of a First Spring Day. I wanted to ride the bike, but wasn't sure where to go. Shortly after my last cup of morning coffee, I realized I could do three of my favorite pastimes: ride, hike and photography.
The day seemed like a good opportunity to visit the Fort Worth Nature Center and Wildlife Refuge; something I've Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-91669677398008815652011-02-07T20:08:00.002-06:002011-02-07T20:11:36.357-06:00Promising Video ArtistA video by young Charlie McCarthy on Vimeo. I like his style.
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-12409665518965049832011-02-03T09:25:00.001-06:002011-02-04T07:35:33.876-06:00Ice Land Very early Tuesday morning the sounds of winter woke me. Whistling wind, pounding hail, and more wind. One look outside after the 5 am alarm informed me I wasn't going anywhere. Freezing rain had turned into snow and the wind was blowing anything that didn't weigh more than 100 lbs. Gusts of ice crystals and snow created abstract landscapes and the streets were sheets of ice.
Anticipating bad Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-58288511825087319462011-01-30T12:23:00.001-06:002011-01-30T12:28:24.482-06:00Moving Back ForwardsAs this year moves forward, so does our plan to move to the desert. To some people, our plans might appear as moving backwards. In one respect -technologically- they are. In another respect, they certainly are: back to a time in my life where simplicity and frugality were the rules. My ten years living in the backwoods of Maine exemplified such a lifestyle and were the happiest of my life. This Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-29928235937259064402011-01-27T20:17:00.001-06:002011-01-30T08:46:25.530-06:00PremonitionsI met a pteradactyland this he had to say:"For all your tomorrows, we gave you our todays.
But listen closely;There's no time left to play,and now you have to borrowfrom your children's future days."Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-46507505210131991552011-01-24T21:14:00.001-06:002011-01-24T21:19:02.993-06:00Prairie sanctuary It was a good weekend. Went to Dallas for something other than work: live music. Three of us had dinner at Cafe Brazil and then went to the Kessler Theater for a music venue. Our favorite swing and jitterbug band - the Jitterbug Vipers - played on stage.Their performance was the best yet. Baby Angus hung out with his Mom, Sarah, while she sang. Angus wore ear plugs in both ears and loved the Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-77034139593734720192011-01-13T20:49:00.001-06:002011-01-13T20:50:21.905-06:00El Punto Coyote Sunrise in DecemberSomething wakes me. An ephemeral and invisible 'finger' pokes me. Eyes snap open and see the faint glow out the window over the foot of the bed. Cold grips me as I slither out from the heap of covers. The travel trailer is cold, an absence of heat that stings.
Limbs, trunk and head are quickly encased in anything warm I can find in the dark. My 'third eye' head lamp adorns the fleece cap Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-91211066225336808532011-01-13T14:35:00.001-06:002011-01-13T14:36:32.692-06:00More Power!
Life-size Kirk on 9th floor in Dept. of Immunology
"Scotty, I need more power!"
"I canna do that, Captain; she don't have any to give!"
"She's dead, Jim."
"Bones, Scotty, what shall I do? "
"Buy a new battery, Jim. It's only a pickup truck."
......New battery installed. Now must go to work.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-8895914544967370762011-01-06T20:11:00.000-06:002011-01-06T20:11:12.697-06:00Walkabout in the Desert and BeyondI'm back. Gone for two weeks to Home in the desert. Was it good? Wonderful. Actually, that is an understatement. This year begins a long transition, a year of change. At least it isn't an abrupt one; had too many of those. Near the end of the year, I will leave academia, perhaps for good, but not leave science; it's too much a part of me. I will be leaving this area as well to begin a new chapterMacrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-85948900927266005332010-12-17T12:40:00.000-06:002010-12-17T12:40:07.547-06:00El Punto Coyote: Home in the Desert
In a few hours I will be going 'Home' for two weeks. To our place in Big Bend: El Punto Coyote. Our annual holiday Desert Rats gathering. This time, we have our own place to stay: 9.5 miles off pavement and into the Chihuahua Desert.
Glimpses of Home.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-72303269413497377822010-12-17T12:28:00.000-06:002010-12-17T12:28:59.100-06:00OR Backcountry: Day 1 Crater Lake
We knew that the rest of the way to the north entrance to Crater Lake was a straight shot on pavement. I had planned it that way because the total mileage for our first day was over 200 and it was best that we allowed some daylight to set up camp. The ride south was not really fun with the coughing and choking DR, but I gritted my teeth and continued with my ear plugs well pushed in. I Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-40902589513754235132010-12-17T12:26:00.000-06:002010-12-17T12:26:41.314-06:00OR Backcountry: Day 1 Cascases BywayOregon Cascades Byway
After packing the Poop-up for a long term hibernation and double checking the bikes and gear, we left the county campground to our departure site in Prineville. Greg from ADV kindly offered a place to park the truck and poop-up while we were in the back country.
Greg runs an outfit, High Desert Adventures, that leads riders through the Oregon back country. His package Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-56143259942089634652010-12-17T12:21:00.000-06:002010-12-17T12:21:36.870-06:00OR Backcountry: Day 0How do you get to Narnia?
Because of the drizzle and late start, I decided that we should choose a different route over the Cascade Range: less winding and narrow than the McKenzie Pass. Much to my dismay, because the old McKenzie road is so delightful as it snakes over lava beds and through old growth forests. Guess we'll save that for another time. We drove on Hwy 20, the Santiam Hwy, Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-40341866662931540252010-12-17T12:12:00.000-06:002010-12-17T12:12:44.589-06:00Oregon Ho!: FamilyA few photos from the 'family album' and our stay with Tanaya. I was getting restless. I woke and got up before sunrise the last few days there. One morning when I ventured outside watching the sun rise in the cloudy sky, I saw..........what? Hot air balloons!
Horses in the pasture next to the house did not know quite what to think of these floating monsters.
I had a few conversations Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-28905913239527121622010-12-11T23:26:00.000-06:002010-12-11T23:26:32.620-06:00Oregon, Ho!: Bridges, Sea Stacks and Letting Go
Oregon has some fine bridges. Over bays, rivers, creeks, gorges, waterfalls... They are everywhere. Two of my favorites are those in Newport, over the Yaquina Bay, and in Florence, further south on the Coast. And the most photogenic. If anyone visiting the Oregon coast can stop and imagine how it was like before Hwy 101 was built.... Navigation was mostly by boat, Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-8092499022999431742010-12-11T23:18:00.000-06:002010-12-11T23:18:33.416-06:00Oregon, Ho!: Boats and Salmon I could watch boats and ship for hours. I no longer have my own (16-ft Grumman canoe), so I have to float vicariously on other's boats.
We saw everything from small fishing boats, to tourist boats, to big old ratty fishing (commercial fishers), to deep sea commercial charter fishing boats.
While we waited for Mo's to open, and with the streets and piers empty of tourists, the Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-91977066917062090212010-12-11T23:13:00.000-06:002010-12-11T23:13:10.042-06:00Oregon, Ho!: Murals
Since my first visit to Newport, Oregon, in the mid-80's, one thing I remember most (besides Mo's clam chowder) was the giant mural of whales on the side of a bay-front fish/seafood processing place (above). It's called the 'Whaling Wall'. I always liked the mural; it brings one closer to those that co-habit the ocean waters. A few other smaller murals were scattered throughout the Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-83740770446674276022010-12-11T23:08:00.000-06:002010-12-11T23:08:26.714-06:00Oregon, Ho!: Salty Air, Murals and SalmonSalty Air
The three of us -Ed, Tanaya and I- headed out early one morning for the coast. Newport on the Yaquina Bay has always been dear to me for many reasons. Yes, it's tourist haven in the summer. But off-season, the place is still a small-town, fishing community. It offers all the coastal treats: large bay, deep sea fishing, yummy food, light house, waves smashing against the cliffs, Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-61218359760859891472010-12-11T23:02:00.000-06:002010-12-11T23:02:45.567-06:00Oregon, Ho!: The Long PuddleThe Long Puddle
Huh? Well, after all, the valley where the river runs through it used to be under the ocean. Then it was a shallow marine bay. Then it was full of volcanic spew. Then a tropical oasis. Then a puddle. But that was all stretching millions of years ago. Now it is a valley where a river runs through it. With lots of people, too.
When I left Oregon back in 1998, the only large Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-58826094933993697122010-12-11T22:53:00.000-06:002010-12-11T22:53:32.679-06:00Oregon, Ho!: Neverending FallsThe last sightseeing stop on the trip to my daughter's place in Albany was a requirement. I remember well what it was like back in 1984 when we stopped on our way to the Valley. Now.........oh my, has it changed. It's almost like going to Disneyland: crowded, crowded, crowded, lots of pavement, too many cars/vehicles, traffic congestion, trinket shops, and..... so this seems to be the way ofMacrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-44466296803725827912010-12-11T22:49:00.000-06:002010-12-11T22:49:32.007-06:00Oregon, Ho!: Columbia Gorge IIThe one thing about Oregon rivers are that bridges are few and far between, except for spanning the Willamette River in Portland (where there are many bridges). These are bridges across the Columbia (not near Portland).
I love this bridge. It reminds me of the locks on Lake Erie near where I grew up. I loved watching them raise up for freight ships, one of which my grandfather was an Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-78013959831942672232010-12-11T22:35:00.000-06:002010-12-11T22:35:52.161-06:00Oregon, Ho!: Columbia Gorge-eous
This trip back home was a cacophony of many opposing feelings. After being gone for over a decade, after living in Oregon for over a decade (1984-1998), my memories formed expectations for this return. We can't help that; its the way our mind works. Although we know things change over time, and intellectually we accept and expect that many things change in our absence, our expectations and Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-8401909992416286012010-12-11T22:25:00.001-06:002010-12-11T22:26:12.252-06:00Oregon, Ho!: Emigrant Hill
Shortly after cresting the mountain at Deadman's Pass, the descent begins. This summit is known as Emigrant Hill for the Oregon Trail that winds precipitously down into the valley where Pendleton now lays. It is often referred to as 'Cabbage Hill', curiously named for a large area on top of the hill where a woman grew cabbage for market. But on the topo maps the summit of Cabbage Hill is Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-41719556447976473152010-12-11T22:22:00.000-06:002010-12-11T22:22:15.778-06:00Oregon, Ho!: Deadman Pass
The Oregon Trail and modern-day Interstate 84 wind and meander through the Blue Mountains in NE Oregon. Here are the oldest mountains in the state. The sub-ranges of the Blue Mountains were once an arc of volcanic islands thousands of miles south and further west in a giant ocean called Panthalassa. These volcanic islands violently merged with the coast of the North American continent Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-50589856990721242632010-12-11T22:18:00.001-06:002010-12-11T22:19:32.306-06:00Oregon, Ho!: Along the Oregon TrailSeries of posts excerpted from a travelogue of a 3.5 week adventure to Oregon last August/September.
Interstate 84 slides from Idaho into Oregon at Ontario. The paved surface closely follows the general trail of the emigrants during early 1840's through 1869. The wide and slow moving water of the river in the valley near Ontario provided an easier crossing than the high and treacherous Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-82874040970427206382010-12-06T11:59:00.000-06:002010-12-06T11:59:37.391-06:00Photo by Sergio: Trials videoPhoto by SergioThis is tantamount to gymnastics on a motorcycle!Trails is fascinating; a different perspective to motorcycles because trials is a dynamic and intimate relationship between the athlete, the obstacles and the bike. If you watch closely, you can see why I used the term 'athlete'. This requires significant strength, coordination and strategical thinking by the individual on the bike. Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-79421608623300364082010-11-30T08:27:00.000-06:002010-11-30T08:27:22.910-06:00Design for cold-weather riding glovesI'm considering trying (read: attempt) to design a pair of riding gloves for cold-weather riding. Not quite fashionable, but that's not a priority in my book. They would be based on these old pilot mittens. I tried on a pair this morning when the security guard told me I'm nuts for riding in 34 degree (and windy) temps. He picked these up 20 years ago and still uses them. I likey. But they need Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-53001834297370352672010-11-22T21:56:00.000-06:002010-11-22T21:56:48.769-06:00Ghosts of Central OregonThe Fort Rock Heritage Museum in Central Oregon reminds me of similar historical displays in Texas. One that I am acquainted with is the Buffalo Gap Village, south of Abilene. So similar are they that the universality of early settlement spans from coast to coast. Similarities in building construction, decorative accoutrement, hardware, furniture, even floor plans. Americana ranges far and wide Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-36020760595959922462010-11-20T23:17:00.000-06:002010-11-20T23:17:23.557-06:00Fremont National Forest and Winter RimA video of Day Three: Fremont National Forest and Winter Rim in Central Oregon.
Day 3 Fremont National Forest, OR from TexasShadow on Vimeo.A day of riding and exploring. Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-14018748070265391342010-11-14T16:45:00.000-06:002010-11-14T16:45:04.801-06:00DudukOccasional self-indulgence isn't all that bad. So I did.
Every blue year I do something for my birthday. Back in 2005 I bought a humble home on five acres of former cow pasture. Last year I bought badly-needed winter gear; my Hi-vis yellow riding suit. This year had me thinking more about music. Homegrown, that is.
Growing up in a musical family we all played something. Even if it was a tin can.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-3330358664052769272010-10-29T13:02:00.000-05:002010-10-29T13:02:42.699-05:00Layers of HistoryI was not going to do this, but it is either post chronologically disjointed posts about our trip to Oregon or post nothing at all. Since my return to Texas, I've found myself consumed by the ever relentless rat race here. During my very limited free time -between work, four-hour/day commutes, and getting the ranch back in shape- I might be able to spend 1/2 to one hour going through the Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-83667349837957361212010-10-14T12:10:00.000-05:002010-10-14T12:10:17.226-05:00Caught in Transition
Every evening after work I take an hour or so to sort and archive the collection of photographs taken on the recent trip. It reinforces my displacement from life here. Work has been so convoluted, I'm worn out before I get home in the evenings and weekends are busy trying to catch up on repairs and maintenance at home. Darkness descends earlier now and the cool temperatures allow for leaving theMacrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-19775896549647963532010-10-05T08:10:00.002-05:002010-10-05T08:12:05.747-05:00My Wildlife PrairieWhile leaving my driveway early this morning (5:20am), the truck headlights momentarily froze the advance of a bobcat near the road. No mistaking the bobbed tail, spotted tawny coat and big face with pointed ears. I was ecstatic. I surely did not expect a bobcat to be living and hunting nearby, let alone see one.
Since the neighbors left for an extended stay in Panama, the coyotes have been Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-55525020461464962462010-10-05T08:03:00.000-05:002010-10-05T08:03:43.070-05:00Update on Oregon WebsiteThe website has been slowly updated with stories of the almost-month-long trip to Oregon. The Adventure section now has a travelogue of the drive to Oregon with photos and a supplementary photo gallery. Use the indexes or the drop-down menu at the top of the website to navigate around. Still going through photos and vid clips, so this will be an ongoing project. Be sure to occasionally check back.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-6659382476615487122010-10-02T20:25:00.032-05:002010-10-02T20:54:41.960-05:00Fort Rock Basin in OregonWe spent many days in Lake County. One of the most memorable is the Fort Rock area. Hard to believe that this basin was once the bottom of an ocean, and later, a huge land-bound lake. Now it is the Oregon High Desert with many geological features that demand time spent exploring.
Ironically, the video embedded below was aired on Oregon Public Broadcasting station only a few days before we rode Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-37695970570330877492010-09-24T15:39:00.000-05:002010-09-24T15:39:10.561-05:00Oregon sheep driveMy first experimental video on Vimeo:
Ewe Drive Me Crazy from TexasShadow on Vimeo.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-46682654190030524642010-09-24T13:29:00.000-05:002010-09-24T13:29:20.601-05:00Oregon: Post-journeyStepping from the TARDIS vehicle and back into present civilization was culture shock after being in the back country for nearly three weeks. Texas greeted me with sneezing and stuffed sinuses, humid heat, no water and food at home, and a mountain of stuff to go through. I let it sit for awhile, grinning at the irony of camping out in my own house after 3+ weeks of it elsewhere.
After Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-78487068479806707132010-08-16T18:18:00.000-05:002010-08-16T18:18:31.907-05:00Dry Run We had originally planned to do a dry run camping trip with all our gear on the little bikes this past weekend. But it is just too danged hot. Instead, we loaded the bikes with our gear in the cool and dark of the morning and rode north to join other riders for breakfast at the Blue Hanger Cafe.
Sitting outside, we ate breakfast, sipped coffee or iced tea, chatted and watched planes land and Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-35552166411520266862010-08-03T12:36:00.002-05:002010-08-03T12:42:15.242-05:00Big Bend, Big CloudsPeople are astonished when told that Big Bend has a rainy season. "What? But it is a desert!" Well, yes, it is a desert, but it is not the Sahara Desert.
The average annual precipitation in Big Bend region ranges from 7-10 inches, depending on the area. The average rainfall in the Terlingua area is 8 inches per year. For those who rely on water catchment systems to meet their household water Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-30886362528410234952010-07-31T09:43:00.000-05:002010-07-31T09:43:38.464-05:00Is a rose really a rose?Life often gets in the way of things; still going through the photos from recent stay in the desert, which still lingers in my subconsciousness like clinging dust. A personal interest I have is toponyms, which is associated with how we ascribe symbols to places, events and other people; or names in general. We are products of language, thus, language imparts power. One delight of Big Bend Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-15783128585194098282010-07-23T08:08:00.001-05:002010-07-23T08:09:36.772-05:00Back in the Saddle. Again.Three little bikes went for a short ride in the cool of last Sunday morning. I learned that the seat on the DR needs modifying again. My pelvic bones ached near the end of those two hours.
Last Monday's MRI revealed healing of the pelvic fractures. So now it is time to begin conditioning and endurance. I have a long way to go before leaving for Oregon!
For those wishing to follow the Oregon Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-44231728102634699692010-07-17T09:22:00.001-05:002010-07-19T09:09:26.019-05:00Morning SpeaksI am sitting on my 5x5' landing in front of the door with the crickets. We take refuge in the cool shade while the cicadas begin singing to the sunlight. The wind carries songs of the birds as they catch their morning feed before the heat drives most mobile living things to take refuge in shade. I watch the border of shade and light on the grass, the contrasting hues of green changing slowly as Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-33295121037558087462010-07-12T12:14:00.001-05:002010-07-13T09:00:21.467-05:00Verdent Desert
Traveling can serve as destinations, journeys, or escapes. Sometimes traveling can satisfy all three. My recent trip to Big Bend quenched the latter; it was a needed escape. Sometimes one has to step back from the center of chaos to regroup and face it anew. This trip did more than just that.
We left the Fort Worth area in the rain Thursday night only to surrender to a motel room after several Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-54971649797397982272010-06-27T19:08:00.000-05:002010-06-27T19:08:26.873-05:00Historic IrisAfter a few years of attempts photographing flowers, I had pretty much given up. I can't seem to 'get' macro photography with a digital. It was much easier with the old Minolta SLR.
While finally tracking down (literally; we ended up on two-track) the old Fort Griffin town cemetery ('Boot Hill'), all the headstones were engulfed in seas of white iris. It was awesome. Finally got to those Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-7578227414983787522010-06-27T17:42:00.001-05:002010-07-12T12:18:11.943-05:00Reconstructing HistoryWelcome. Walk inside, through the door and into a time long ago. Feel the coolness inside this rock structure, feel the solid cool rock under your feet, and smell the dampness in the air. Over a hundred years ago, men sweated year round inside here while shoveling mounds of bread dough into a giant oven. Look over at the end wall; see the large gaping hole in the wall, like a cave whose lips are Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-42107225312603004332010-06-25T22:15:00.001-05:002010-06-25T22:16:46.588-05:00Routes are funPlanning routes to ride on are like finger mapping. Well, virtually, that is. I just painstakingly made a route from Bend, OR, to Crater Lake on two separate maps. I do like the Ride With GPS, although I can't use it at home. Living in the middle of a cow pasture has its drawbacks.
Below is the first leg from Bend to Hwy 58, north of Crescent Lake. Granted, most of it is on pavement, with some Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-80715383643629905672010-06-25T08:21:00.000-05:002010-06-25T08:21:12.693-05:00Ride with GPSFound this last night. Tested it out with a draft route from Crater Lake to Fort Rock State Park in OR.
I likey.
Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-79633971472715828232010-06-22T13:16:00.002-05:002010-06-22T13:19:13.875-05:00Summertime and the tomatoes are high.......I did something I haven't done in over a decade, since I left the ranch in Oregon. I can't ride the bikes most of this year; I'm going bat crazy. To keep myself occupied, I planted a small garden in front of the house. Modest compared to the giant garden on the ranch. Nevertheless, it has been a joy.
In the cool of of the morning last Sunday I weeded, restaked the netting and pruned back the Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-10179549675594581492010-06-16T12:10:00.001-05:002010-06-16T12:42:40.610-05:00Necessities Now and Then
We think we need many things. Yet at some stage -or several stages- of our lives we find we need less, but want too many things. Then again, every time I drive through the suburbs around here I wonder why families with 1.5 children and a dog need 3,000-square foot houses with roofs that look like giant conehead hats. Perhaps most of us don't really know the difference between 'want' and 'need'.Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-75330918284869856282010-06-14T13:23:00.001-05:002010-06-14T13:24:55.282-05:00MotoblottingNo, that's not a typo for 'Motoblogging'.
Being a science nerd, I smiled at the irony of an advertisement in the June issue of The Scientist journal. Flipping the page to read an article on the battle between pathogens and their hosts (or describing the immune system using the analogy of mafia wars), there was a full-page photo of a motorcyclist in helmet and leathers.
"What???", you ask. I Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-81017449268091799122010-06-01T22:06:00.001-05:002010-06-01T22:10:03.167-05:00IntermissionThis episode is interrupted to deliver a not-very-important message. You can choose to go find some popcorn or wait several more days until I have time to continue the stories. Life has been busy.
This past weekend comprised of a return trip to Fort Griffin area which was by far, very rewarding. I was joined by Ed on his KLR and Brian on his Big Dog (BMW GS). Since my pelvis is still not Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-34640478922556514822010-05-23T07:43:00.004-05:002010-05-23T10:31:35.151-05:00Fort GriffinFort Griffin grew from stick and mud frame to stronger stone structures. However, as with nearly all the forts, some structures remained canvas. Of course, the only remaining features today of these forts are stone ruins. A few log or post and mud buildings you see now are reconstructions. Nevertheless, they provide a more visual base to imagine life on these posts as well as homesteads Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-56256031670307697662010-05-22T15:02:00.027-05:002010-05-28T08:44:46.965-05:00Was the West Really Won?
“The popular perception of early history in this area is most typically recalled in stories of Indian raids, cavalry campaigns, wild ‘nights on the town,’ vigilante hangings, buffalo hunts and cattle drives. Such colorful chapters have overshadowed the mundane activities that also formed the regional experience.” - Ty Cashion. A Texas Frontier.
It appears that Mr. Cashion and I have a Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-25244983372006605062010-05-19T19:36:00.007-05:002010-05-20T22:32:47.503-05:00Exploring time and spaceLeaning against the tree on the top edge of the mesa you can look over stretches of stunted and scraggly trees bunched into swathes that cut through expanses of green prairie grass. A ribbon of tall trees bedecked with bright green leaves mark edges of the river that runs like a twisting vein through the landscape. Rocky slopes of mesas mark their gentle rise above the prairies making Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-2571788681149151372010-05-09T15:25:00.005-05:002010-05-10T08:16:47.422-05:00Fort Griffin: Then and NowEvery time I head westward, anticipation and excitement creeps into me. I think I was born to head west, no matter where I am. I'm not sure why. Perhaps I'm following the historical emergence of this continent where the east is old and west is new, in geology, geography and history. But I don't think I was alone in this inclination, as many before me can testify.As we drove west of Fort Worth Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-25763911033183166042010-05-09T14:12:00.006-05:002010-05-09T15:23:22.899-05:00Fort Griffin: No Place for HumansThe inability to ride the bikes hasn't prevented me from camping or exploring. One weekend found us on the edge; the edge of the frontier, the edge of West Texas, the edge of several trails, the edge of habitable country. Or so the sign said. As settlements crept westward in Central Texas and into traditional hunting grounds of the Comanche and Kiowa tribes, conflicts increased. Encroachment Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-27816732494008073452010-04-13T11:52:00.004-05:002010-04-13T12:33:30.185-05:00What's Old is NewCemeteries contain pages of our history buried in the ground. Headstones are the book covers. We can't really judge the books by their covers, but we can piece together series of stories to form a large novel. They can also predict our future in more ways than one. The information gathered from engravings can help us put together enough pieces of a narrative about the community and even the Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-37221430664163292352010-03-31T20:04:00.002-05:002010-03-31T20:13:30.786-05:00About time....The bikes have sat for six weeks. The flu had me down last weekend (plus Monday and Tuesday). The weather is warm; the wind is restless. I'm restless, antsy, twitchy. It's time. Time to move. A camping trip is planned for this coming weekend. No bikes, but that's okay. We will be camping on ground where buffalo grazed, then cattle, then the stomp of horses and creaks of wagon wheels. Many trailsMacrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-71870471921384277762010-03-22T17:56:00.002-05:002010-03-22T18:13:21.992-05:00Georgia O'Keeffe & motorcyclesEd and I spent several hours at the National Cowgirl Hall of Fame in Fort Worth yesterday to see the Georgia O'Keeffe exhibit: The Faraway: Image and Nature. It was fantastic. I highly recommend it. Not only are there O'Keefe originals, but also photographs (also originals) by Eliot Porter and Ansel Adams of Georgia, places she painted and places they all shared on outing trips (river Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-8199676000973021462010-03-20T09:51:00.004-05:002010-03-20T10:06:06.908-05:00Here we go again......Two summers ago was spent healing a broken ankle. Now it's a broken pelvis. Finally, after five weeks of doctor visits and radiological imaging the verdict is fractures of both illium in the pelvis. The left illium, the more painful, has a fracture along the upper illiac crest. The right has only a crack. I have a broken ass. The orthopedic surgeon predicts 4-6 months to heal and wants to Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-45333840861398911152010-03-16T20:51:00.005-05:002010-03-16T21:08:12.505-05:00The Simple LifeThe bikes have been patiently sitting for a month or so now. No riding while healing from a bad back injury during a fall on ice. So life has been quiet and simple the last month or so. To fill in the quiet times, my non-work time is occupied by walks in the parks with Ed and Buck the Dog, visiting my favorite music group, Slim Richey's band (jitterbug music in Fort Worth), catching up on my Big Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-83774832090871549422010-02-16T15:52:00.007-06:002010-02-17T12:37:18.917-06:00Texas Dualsport Roads ProjectIt was one of those cases of writing before thinking. Sometimes that can be a bane. Other times it works out to be not a bad thing after all. Depending on whose perspective. Regardless, my second thought was, 'Why did I just do that?'Several riders on Two Wheeled Texans and Adventure Riders forums collaborated on constructing an interactive Google map of roads. The emphasis was on gravel roads Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26813080.post-56790099495844855482010-02-13T23:05:00.003-06:002010-02-16T15:50:33.606-06:00Too Much White StuffI woke at 4:45am Thursday to see four inches of snow on the ground and it was still snowing. I called in to work that I would be late. It snowed all day. I did not leave my yard. I lost internet service around mid-morning. Snow fell all night. I woke Friday morning to 12 inches of snow and.........cold. Power was out. I learned later it went out around 10pm the night before. I looked outside to Macrobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01612571749282257004noreply@blogger.com1