Archive for the ‘Arizona’ Category
winter in arizona – 1 7 comments
It’s been a very long time since I posted anything to my blog. I had hoped to keep up with it, but then the blog was plagued with technical problems that remained unresolved. I was in Arizona for the winter with just the iPad and a limited net connection, so I abandoned any attempt to sort out the problems.
Anyhow, enough about the technical problems. I’m going to try to pick up where I left off last autumn after finishing the fifth summer of work on the house at Round Hill.
I began the trip to Arizona around the first of November. I’m often asked what I would do if my truck broke down on the way. I’ve thought through several scenarios that include such things as renting a U-Haul van to drive the rest of the way, or even buying another van. However, I try to keep a positive mindset when I set out on my almost 4,000 mile journey. If I didn’t think positively, I’d never be able to make myself go. This trip was no different than the others. I set out with my plan to drive for eight days. I knew where I would stop at the end of each day. However, there’s that saying about the best laid plan. On the first day of travel after setting out from my Mom’s place in Ottawa, about three hours after crossing into the U.S., the truck broke down on the side of the freeway near Batavia, New York. I sized up the situation — the truck had blown a heater hose and lost a lot of coolant. I filled the rad with water as best as I could manage, and used wire and tape to attach the broken hose together (it was a broken off plastic T-fitting). In about eight very short hops to prevent the engine from overheating badly, I managed to drive the last few miles to the Batavia exit and limped into the parking lot of the Days Inn. Fortunately, I got a room for a couple of nights and the next morning, made a couple of calls and had the van towed to a shop for repair. To make a very long story short, I was back on the road within two days — not trusting the van too much — so I spent the first day back on the road, taking the scenic route on toward my next night’s stop in Pennsylvania. Emboldened by no further catastrophes, I got back on the freeway the next morning and followed the rest of my original trip plan.
This winter marked a change in my accommodations. In previous years, I rented a house in the Mule Mountains on the outskirts of Old Bisbee. This winter, I would be living in a cabin in the desert valley, just a few miles from Bisbee. Although I enjoyed all the winters at the Bisbee house, it always felt a little confining as there were steep slopes just beyond the garden. The cabin offered something completely different – a greater feeling of freedom – of being able to just walk out the door and go rambling with the dogs – no one in sight, no cars, no need for leashes. Although it was fairly spartan living, it was comfortable enough. A good bed. A convenient place to cook meals. And terrific views of mountains and incredible skies.
Those who know me well, know that I do most of my cooking outdoors spring through autumn while at the place in Round Hill. Doing so in the desert was old hat for me as I spent several autumns camping my way around Utah, California and southern Oregon. However, the winds tend to be rather challenging at times. Still, it’s not too difficult to produce excellent meals on a gas burner or in the barbecue.
The rewards for roughing it are many. A fabulous 360 view of the sky, with mountain ranges in every direction. Good weather for the most part. Almost absolute silence. The photo just below was taken through the west window while sitting on the bed.
Did I mention the sunrises and sunsets? Cooking in the outdoor kitchen was such a wonderful thing. I never missed a terrific sunset. I could look around while I cut up vegetables, or tossed a stir fry on the bbq, and see all of these amazing things happening in the sky in every direction. It was wonderful. I’ll write some more about last winter in Arizona in the next day or two – then it will be back to the present here in Round Hill.
what happens in the desert . . . 6 comments
Several years ago, Don returned from a trip to Arizona wearing a t-shirt that said, “what happens in the desert, stays in the desert”. That’s more or less true. For the fifth consecutive year, I’ve returned to the north with part of my soul remaining behind. However, this year, with it being so dry in southeast Arizona, part of the desert tried to come home with me. My van is probably carrying a couple of pounds of red dust. It’s on and inside of everything, including the guitar, banjo and fiddle cases.
As most of you will know, this blog has been very quiet over the winter. In part, it was a case of me not feeling much like writing, but also due to preoccupation with some decisions about whether to return to the same place next winter. After five years of renting a house in town, It seemed time to move on. The rental house has been a good thing in my life — sort of like a big life raft floating serenely on the Sea of Chaos. However, now, with the old place at Round Hill gradually taking shape, it felt like the right time to leave the raft and swim off into a new adventure.
And so it was that I relocated to an off-grid cabin in the Sulphur Springs valley east of Bisbee.
It is a place where I would be surrounded by nature. It’s Chihuahuan desert, dominated by mesquite, whitethorn acacia, creosote bush, devil’s claw, yucca, and other arid land plants.
In places, ant hills scatter the sand like craters on a moonscape.
Footprints of javelina, fox, coyote, roadrunner, kangaroo rat, lizards, and other creatures form a network of trails. Kestrel, ravens, vultures, harriers, redtail hawks, and in winter, sandhill cranes, glide and soar overrhead.
Every foray presents me with some new plant, creature, fascinating rock, or old relic from the past. There is a 360 view of the sky. Sunrises, sunsets and clouds take on a greater significance. At night, the moon and stars take center stage.
The dogs love the freedom of racing down washes and around hummocks of mesquite – as do I.
Before leaving for the season, I made a circle of stones on a little rise above one of the more pronounced washes. Inside the circle, I arranged findings of the last few days’ walks before leaving. Compass-like, an odd rusty piece of metal points northeast. This summer in the north, I shall make another pointing southwest. It is good to have markers pointing the way home.