Elevation Vacation

We took Turtle on a short vacation from still-hot Tucson in the Santa Catalina Mountains last week. The mountain bikes came with, and hiking boots. We spent three nights, one boondocked at near 8,000 feet and two at a FS campground at around 6,000 feet. We had perfect weather, burned less than 1/4 tank of diesel and felt like we were 2,000 miles away, all because of the magic of elevation change. We cycle up the mountain from home, a 60-70 mile round trip, depending on where we go, but between 6,000 and 7,000 feet of elevation change, a great workout. But during these rides we only stop briefly for snacks, so as to not let our muscles cool too much, and know mostly the road, though we have done a few hikes on the mountain.

This time we decided to do a mountain bike ride and see something new. The Santa Catalinas are steep! Our mountain bike ride could more accurately be described as a hike-a-bike, with almost as much pushing as riding for some sections. But the scenery and the workout was worth the effort. The General Hitchcock campground was a delight with a burbling stream and lots of birds, even one lifer. We'll do it again!

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Monsoon Denouement

One of Southern Arizona's several seasons is fading away. Our Sky Island mountain ranges are now pasted against cobalt skies, with just a few puffy fair-weather clouds gathered over their summits, there to remind us of the violent thunderstorms of the past two months. The monsoon left behind something else too, a brilliant carpet of jade overlaying the red/brown hue of the spring and autumn. I never imagined I would see the heavenly blue of morning glory blossoms strung on vines woven among the prickly pear, saguaro and ocotillo, until we spent our first monsoon season and hiked through waist high grass where there had been dry stubble through the annual wildflower season. The red origami folds of saguaro fruit, ripened open and rapaciously consumed by desert flying critters, then dried into brilliant red "second blossoms" of the giant cactus through the beginning of the spectacular, and regular storms. A second cactus bloom ads a blaze of red to the pastel of the monsoon annuals.Now, the air crackles with dryness again, the nights cool and the days too. The sun rules now, clouds insubstantial waifs losing the battle; the change of prevailing winds pushing tropical moisture away. In a few months, another change will bring moisture scudding in from the Pacific, whatever small amounts not dumped on Washington, Oregon or California.

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Grand Canyon and Claire

This is for those of you who haven't been following this blog. This is SO Claire, writing in her journal on the lip of one of the wonders of the world. I love this picture. I love this woman. I am so lucky.

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We are sad for Gori, all of Georgia; we were there...

When Claire and I traveled the Silk Road, we rode our tandem bicycle the length of the Caucuses. We spent a night in Gori, the town that Russians have taken today. In another small town to the west, we were welcomed into a graduation party by a group of teens, watched them dance traditional Georgian folk dances, enjoyed the beauty of the town and surrounding countryside. The two girls and their mother (woman washing greens at the well) subsist in the countryside west of Gori; I wonder if they are safe, how terrified they must be. Our country's misguided adventure in Iraq renders us impotent against Russia. They can do what they want to tiny (a few days across by bicycle) Georgia. What will they do next?

Left: President Bush visited Georgia not long before us. Right: Monument to hometown boy Stalin outside Gori.

Have any of these people died?

  

We are sorry Georgia. You were kind to us. Now that the the oil pipeline is finished across your lands, we don't need you anymore. We hope the Russians don't destroy the pipeline. We can't stop them; we are otherwise engaged.

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On The Road Again

After surviving, and enjoying the hottest month of the year in Tucson, we decided to head for the higher elevations of Arizona for July: the Grand Canyon, Mogollon Rim and the White Mountains. We're trying to enjoy some time being not so connected, so I won't do many postings until we return to Tucson in August. I'll post a few photos on this post now and again:

Boondock on the Kaibab National Forest just outside of Grand Canyon National Park

 

Claire on the Arizona Trail

Mule deer skeleton along the trail

The Grand Canyon never gets old, just more crowded, but we have a few strategies for that. 1. Get around by bicycle or free shuttle bus. 2. Avoid the west end. 3. Just walk away from the crowds; the best views are elsewhere. 4. Camp at Desert View. 5. Stay several days. 5. Get up for sunrise, the tourists sleep in.

 

    

 

Tanner Trail in Grand Canyon: This hike was only about six miles, but around 2000 feet down and then up. Our quads noticed our lack of hiking the past few months. The hike is near Desert View and a simple, if steep, in and out to a beautiful saddle and beyond, as far as the river if you want, a 15 mile hike we weren't up to, particularly in July. It gets HOT down there!

Down, from up there, to see more down, then hike back up. Hmmm.

 

 

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After the Grand Canyon we boondocked a couple of nights on the east side of the San Francisco Peaks near Wupatki and Sunset Crater National Monuments. There is a challenging loop of 58 miles with tons of climbing we had been wanting to ride for years. There happened to be a cancer ride the same day, so we got to interact with other riders. We were doing fine until the racing team passed and we just had to try and hang on the back; too bad the hill was a little too long...about a mile.

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   Wupatki

  Sunset Crater

Saguaro Fruit Season

What's red and black, chewy and crunchy, the sweetest natural candy outside a bees nest? The pith of saguaro fruit, split open and cooked in the sun, makes a natural fruit taffy, far more wonderful that I had imagined. Now I know how the natives survived the silly season; they knew the saguaro fruit was ripening.

We found this young arm with two split open fruits on an early morning bike ride of the loop road in Saguaro National Park East unit. As you see in the second photo, ants and one huge horsefly were already working away at the wonderful stuff, but the doves, bats, and almost every other flying thing of the desert, hadn't found this bounty. The only reason the doves and bats, in particular, don't get all the saguaro fruit, is that there is so much of it. We've been watching the early ripening fruits for two weeks on our rides, but the seeds and pith, the sweet stuff was all gone. What's left is a three or four petaled blazing red fruit shell, folded back against the spines, looking like a second blossom. The real blossom is white and begins blooming in April. The Tohono O'odham use the pith and seeds for all kinds of stuff, including a fermented drink for celebration of the arrival of the bounty of summer and the monsoon rains. We would be happy to just eat the stuff; it's better than any candy. Don't be afraid of the desert summer; ruby red rewards await!

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Oh, we shooed the fly away, but ate the ants. (double click the photo to see a larger version)

Lucky Blog Brought Monsoon

They say that the monsoon begins in Arizona when it rains on you. All I had to do was post the last blog about the monsoon, and ta da, it rained on me last night and now again this afternoon. Of course everyone goes out in the first monsoon rain; it's sort of a spiritual thing; a big sigh of relief. Both were mild, as monsoon rains go, some lightning, some thunder and enough rain to get wet, sound nice on the roof and dapple the swimming pool. Best was being able to sleep with the widows open last night, and a short nap with the rain this afternoon. The temperature dropped nearly thirty degrees in a couple of hours.

We collected a small epiphyte (air plant) in Florida as a shower pet in Turtle (our motorhome) last December. It loved our shower of course, but has been having to survive with a dunking every week or so since we returned to dry Tucson in March; we prefer to shower at our clubhouse.

Yesterday I hung it on our long blooming desert plant (favorite of hummingbirds, can't remember the name) to enjoy a real shower. I like to think it is going to enjoy the monsoon, if it can survive the sun and dry.

Does anyone know how to feed an epiphyte? other than leave it out in the air, something I'm not too sure is a good idea in dry Tucson.

Would you like to give our epiphyte a name?

happy monsoon,

bob

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Monsoon Meltdown; Arizona Silly Season: The Monsoon Buildup.

People in most of the country think Arizona has no seasons. I once had that idea myself, until I lived for a year in Tucson. In Southern Arizona, there are two major seasons: the wet, and the dry. The wet is divided into two parts, what others call winter, and summer. The dry is also divided into two parts, corresponding to spring and autumn in the rest of the country. That's the simple explanation, but like most simple explanations, omits the interesting stuff:

Right now, June, we are in what the Australians in Queensland and Northern Territory, Australia, call the buildup. It is also called the silly season, the murder season -- you get the idea, it drives people nuts. It is the hottest part of the year, and the humidity rises to uncomfortable levels. The Arizona buildup is nothing compared to say, Darwin, where 110f + temperatures somehow manage to hold 80% humidity. In Tucson we think it is unbearable when the humidity hits 35%, no matter what the temperature. In Phoenix, they get much higher humidity, and temps, because they like to have large lawns they water daily; Karma if you ask me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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As June comes to an end, we can begin to sense the monsoon rains inching closer, and that knowledge produces an interesting mix of physical misery and spiritual hope that is positively intoxicating. We check the Doppler radar on Yahoo Weather constantly: is that blotch of red, ringed with yellow and green, bending in our direction? Dare we hope the monsoon will begin today?

Soon, one 100 + day will, imperceptibly at first, begin to show cute little summer puffy clouds, the ones much of the country gets at some time during the summer. But, surrounding these innocent looking clouds, miles up in the deep blue desert sky, hide huge quantities of moisture. As the afternoon wears on, and the desert floor pumps blistering heat up into the mix, those cute clouds begin to morph, slowly at first, then more rapidly into unbelievably tall white clouds with inky blue/black bottoms, impossibly convoluted, beautiful and powerful. Therein hides lightning not to be believed, thunder to rattle buildings and the nerves of living things, and followed by downpours of Genesis 5 proportions (well, maybe not quite that outrageous).

Will this be the day?

Stay tuned.

Signs of a Desert Summer, and Time WE Sacrificed

A saguaro fruit, once it has been harvested of seeds by the desert critters, folds back into a lotus shape.

There is nothing subtle about summer in the Sonoran Desert. The temperature climbs inexorably to three digits, the air dries to five percent, and the sensation of being slowly roasted in a very hot ovens dominates the senses. Of course we ride our bicycles anyway. It's a bit more like being in a convection oven; you roast evenly. However the sun has failed to roast these two pieces of meat, because we ingest huge quantities of fluids, soak our clothes regularly and ride fast. Evaporative cooling works. Besides we were hotter in Turkey, and knowing you won't die if you drink makes a big difference.

Tucson's newest bicycle bridge, the basket bridge, inspired by patterns found on Tohono O'odham baskets.

We are getting somewhat radical on the use of our car. We are down to less than on (small) tank of gasoline a month. We are not being holier than thou, after all, we did drive our motorhome thousands miles in the last 12 months; at least it was for work.

We did decide that at least we could do one small thing. We can set an example by driving our little Geo Tracker, as little as possible. When people see us out on the streets, bike panniers filled to overflowing with groceries, with the temperature hovering between 104 and 109, they know we are saving fuel, and maybe they'll consider making one less trip each week, somehow.

The small things are all we can do. If each of us cut our fuel consumption in half (what we have done since March), a bunch of speculators would get soaked, policy makers and auto manufacturers would put their "future" projects on the fast track, and we could all stop whining. But, change is not something that comes easy to most folks. We've had more than one dirty look and a middle finger or two from big honker truck drivers, usually male, who have been told by the Neo Cons, that saving fuel is Un-American. Better we should invade another Arab country, since Iraq worked so well at keeping down the price of oil.

Lots of people think riding a bicycle is beyond them, but they would be wrong. Yes, it takes a little effort, a little learning, but since when have Americans shrunk from doing what needs to be done? Since 9/11 when the powers-that-be, told us we were victims and the only answer was to shop, and send our troops to sacrifice themselves in war. Maybe it's time WE made some sacrifices.

Oh, all this biking is not all sacrifice: we each have lost more than 10 pounds. Hmmmmm