International Earthcache Day

2015/10/122015/10/11 ruminator

Rock Climber on Chickies Rock near Lancaster, PA.

Yesterday, 11 October 2015, was International Earthcache Day. I decided to celebrate by traveling to a nearby park and finding at least one earthcache.

An earthcache is a particular kind of geocache that is peculiar in two ways — it does not have a container and it is focused on one of the earth sciences, usually geology. That means I love them because there is something to see and something to learn. I am still all about science and geology is one of my favorites.

So I was excited to get out, see if I could find and log at least one earthcache, and also to enjoy a beautiful fall day with my Girl. We headed east from Daughter’s about 1130 hours and drove east to Chickies Rock Park adjacent to the Susquehanna River. I parked the geocaching 4Runner in the area around the Breezy Overlook, got my gear, and let the Girl out. We hunted around for a virtual cache (Breezy View) near the parking lot, but I couldn’t find the answers to the questions so we headed down the trail.

The hike down to the Heritage Trail was pretty-darned steep (technical term), but we managed. The Girl has all-paw drive and a high strength-weight ratio so steep doesn’t bother her. This old man was happy to have his hikers on because there were slidies (another technical term) on the path. Regardless, we got down to the trail without issue. It was only a short distance down the trail to the Henry’s Clay Furnace earthcache. We greeted numerous other walkers/hikers along the way and paused at the site to read the description, collect the answers to the questions for the log, and explore. I came away with a couple of nice frames of the ruins and a fascinating glimpse into the local history.

Climbers on Chickies Rock, near Lancaster, PA.

We hiked on north to find the Chickies Rock earthcache. I wasn’t too surprised when we approached and there was a group of rock climbers working the rock, but it was a mildly surprising — and pleasing — event. I paused to collect a few images and begin collecting the answers for the questions posed in the description of the earthcache. We moved along a little farther north to visit more of the rock (and collect more answers). I sat on an old railroad tie and made a few notes to use later when I logged the find. Then we headed back south.

Katy and Ryan, the Rock Climbing Guides at Chickies Rock.

As we passed the group of climbers, a young woman made eye contact and greeted us. So, I stopped to chat. This is a big part of what makes life interesting to me — stopping and talking to people. I love hearing their stories, finding out what they do and what the love, and asking questions about those things. As it turns out, Katy was one of the guides for this group and is working on her degree in a field that I don’t remember the name for, but is about how our bodies and minds are connected and the impact of stress and similar pressures on our systems. She’s interested in how outdoor activities affect that system and how outdoor activities can be used as therapy.

After a few minutes, one of the other guides (the lead) came over to visit and give some direction on capturing some video of the climbers. So, I bid them farewell and the Girl and I headed back toward the trail up the hillside and back home. It wasn’t a long hike and the climb up wasn’t as steep as I thought. It was enough to get my pumping, but I wasn’t tired when I reached the top.

At the top, I was also able to find what I needed for the Breezy View virtual cache, so I collected my information and then we mounted up and headed home. The round trip (boots on ground) was shy of three miles, but it was still a good day.

Football Season

2015/10/092015/10/08 ruminator

The Bobcats beat the Wildcats in a close game. — The Bobcats beat the Cougars in a close game.

Both my grandsons are involved in football. It’s something one of them loves and the other loves more. It’s my pleasure to support them at practice and at games and at home.

Dad loved football. He played in high school many years ago and talked about it now and again. It was a tradition in my parents’ home that weekend football was something not to be missed. Dad would put on a big pot of soup or stew or beans (with ham) to cook in the morning. We watched the afternoon games (there was only Sunday all day and Monday night football then), cheering and laughing. Even Mom, who really didn’t care much for sports, would join in.

After we moved to Missouri, Wife (then Girlfriend or Fiance) would come up. The smell of simmering soup made us crazy. In between games (or at halftime), Dad would cook fried potatoes (in a cast iron skillet) and biscuits or cornbread. This added to the anticipation of the upcoming meal.

When all was finally ready, we’d grab big bowls of hot soup, sometimes just dumping the potatoes and/or cornbread into the soup — sometimes putting them on the side, and return to the living room to watch the afternoon games.

There was almost always a nap involved at some point. For me, that was often after the meal. I can remember Dad snoring in his recliner. We all laughed about it.

Now, here I am almost 50-years later. I’m enjoying Grandsons’ games. We’re watching football on Saturdays (college) and Sundays (professional). I’m laughing a lot with my family and we’re all disappointed with the Longhorns’ inability to execute. We eat together and this is good.

Grandsons’ games provide me some opportunity to shoot sports. It’s not something I usually do and my place in the stands requires me to use my compact camera (a Panasonic TS40) because it has the reach to make shots from the stands or the sidelines. I’d prefer to use my Fuji X-T1 (and wish I had my Nikons here), but I use what I can to get the job done. It’s fun and I have a few decent frames.

The White House

2015/09/262015/09/26 ruminator

No, this isn’t a political discussion. The White House serves as the home and working space for the President of the United States of America. Regardless of what I think of any sitting president, I will respect both the office and the residence.

While in DC a couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to walk the National Mall. Both of us enjoyed that walk. We saw (and/or smelled) many things, interacted with interesting people, and I made a few images.

On the way back to the hotel, we passed the White House. It being an iconic representation of my beloved country, I paused to reflect a few minutes and to make this image. After I made this image, we approached the south gate to the area around the White House. A number of Secret Service agents were working there. It’s routine guard duty, except it seems nothing is routine any more. I sat on a bench next to the fountain and watched traffic come and go for a few minutes. The Girl found a grassy spot within a few feet of the bench and stretched out to cool herself in the cool, green grass.

Old Guys don't always look bad without a shirt... — Old Guys don’t always look bad without a shirt…

After a few minutes, we got up and headed north along the internal circle around the White House lawn. I noticed some activity on the lawn and there was a soccer game forming up (I think). These two “older” guys were warming up, shirtless of course. Thinking of my friend in Washington (state), I made this image and laughed about old guys not always looking so bad.

As we walked along the path, one of them started stunting a bit. He was kicking the ball (pretty well, it seemed to me), then did a header, then this back kick. My timing was just a bit off on the latter, but the blue ball is still in the frame.

I have no idea where the other ball came from. It appeared in my frame.

Commonwealth Pen Show

2015/09/212025/09/21 ruminator2 Comments

Sometime about the middle of last week, YouTube flashed a notification on my smartphone (sometimes my smartphone is too smart for me!) that InkNeedLastForever has posted a new video. Since I am a Noodler’s fan, I elected to watch the video and learned that Noodler’s (Nathan Tardif) created three new inks for the Commonwealth Pen Show. Boston is only about 400 miles from where I’m staying and the show was 20 September 2015.

I could make the show. I have never been to a pen show. The big shows in Washington, D.C., Los Angeles, San Francisco, and the like are so big and so intimidating that I have not attended one. It wasn’t that I could not physically get to one of the shows. But the huge amount of energy, the noise, and the city were too intimidating.

The Commonwealth Pen Show is a small show and just getting started. This was the second year. My work was caught up and so I asked myself, “Why not?”

So, I elected to make a quick trip to Boston for the show. The hunt for affordable lodging turned up nothing, so I elected to stay at the Holiday Inn, where the show was hosted.

The Girl and I loaded up Saturday, about noon, and headed out. I should have left sooner. But, I’m still learning how things work here in the east and highway travel is just different than it is in the west, where I spend most of my time. I hit a major detour near Harrisburg — I-81 was closed for construction. In trying to find a detour, I wandered about in a small town (that happened to have some kind of event blocking all the main streets) until I found (or my GPS found) a way around the clog and was able to get back on track.

There was traffic, but it wasn’t awful. It was enough, though, that passing a slower moving vehicle required a merge into significant traffic.

I stopped in New Jersey to find a geocache (and collect another state), plus the Girl needed some outside time to stretch and relieve herself. We had fun.

It was not long before I crossed into New York and almost immediately New York City. The afternoon light was gorgeous, I-95 was very slow, and the skyline was fascinating. I grabbed a few shots with my Panasonic compact camera when traffic paused and thought “I’d like to visit here. This could be interesting.” Yeah, I’d like to visit NYC and see some of the history there.

The farther along I-95 we moved, the better traffic moved and soon we were moving along again. We crossed into Connecticut, then Rhode Island, and then into Massachusetts. But, with the light failing, I decided against stopping for a geocache and hoped I’d be able to find a few on my way home. We arrived at the Holiday Inn in Boston late (for me) and tired (from all the traffic).

The clerk challenged me on the Girl as soon as we arrived at the desk. “There is no formal requirement for certification under federal law,” I reminded her.

But, because I paid the fee to obtain a “certificate” that is displayed as an ID card on her vest, I bent over to retrieve it. “I’ll get my manager,” the clerk told me. She arrived back in a couple of minutes and I presented Ki’s ID card.

“Will this do?”

“Yes.”

I should not have been cranky with the clerk (and wasn’t rude), but it appalls me that people don’t know the rules and that others take advantage of the rules to subvert the system. We were checked in by that time the manager showed. I could have taken the time to explain, but I was just too tired and stressed to bother.

We woke early Sunday morning and went for a walk. Boston was cool and overcast Sunday morning. It rained during the night — not a lot, but enough to dampen things. I showered, dressed, and we went down to the dining room for breakfast. It was decent enough; certainly nothing to complain about.

We were at the door by 0900 hours. There was a short line. The Girl and I interacted with an older man, who told stories about his love of dogs and his encounters with them. I really enjoyed the stories. Then he did a magic trick with a pen and a 20-dollar bill. The pen appeared to have penetrated the bill, but there as no hole. Fun!!!!!

Perhaps I should have taken my beanbags and juggled while waiting in line?

We paid our fee and got in line at the Noodler’s table to collect the special inks. There was a line when I got there and there was a line when I left. I’m not a big fan of Noodler’s fountain pens, but he sure is an expert marketer. He’s also an interesting man and someone I think would be a hoot to know better. I got my inks and stowed them in my messenger bag. I elected to not look at the pens, thinking the line would reduce and I’d be able to look at his pens later. I was dead wrong. Oh well…

The Girl and I walked the floor, browsing at the offerings there and visiting with the vendors. I nearly bought a vintage Sheaffer Pen for Men at one table. The nib was fine or extra-fine, which is smaller than I want in that pen. So, although I thought it was a reasonable buy, I left it. (…and I nearly went back for it later!)

I played with some flexi-pens. That is an art I have not learned. But, I love the shape of the letters made with a flexible nib and think I want one. The offerings I encountered were more than my budget, so I continued wandering. I got back in the Noodler’s line, thinking I would check out his special pens when a lady walked up to me.

“Are you Ruminator or something on FPN?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so… I saw you and your dog and remembered your post on FPN.”

We chatted for a bit (the Girl was the big hit of the show, I think, perhaps just behind Nathan and Noodler’s). “Are you looking for flexible nib pen?”

“I’m interested in them.”

“Then you should talk to Pier,” and she pointed out the man running the table. I remembered watching him write. He is very skilled with a flexible nibbed pen.

“Let’s go!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep, I can always get back in line.”

So she led me to the table where I met the “trophy husband” (as he calls himself). We sat down and he had me play with a number of vintage flexible-nib pens. I practiced pressure to spread the tines and increase the line width with three or four pens, but gravitated back to a couple of them that just felt “right” in the hand.

Pier walked over (he is a penultimate salesman) and visited with me. He made me an offer on one of the pens I was playing with. It is not a collector’s pen, but an everyday writer. It will do and the price is probably about what the nib is worth. When dealing with cameras, my rule is “a camera is a box to hold sensor or film and create a good exposure; the glass and photographer are what create the image.” The fountain-pen corollary is that a “pen is a tube to hold ink and a nib; the nib and writer create the writing.” So I have a tube that carries a decent flexible nib. I can play.

I’m thankful that “C” rescued me from the floor. I might have wandered about another hour before becoming exhausted. I was reminded that shows like this are hard on me — the energy and buzz push at me and that I have to be careful. When I go to shows, I have to have a plan and stay focused on what I’m there to achieve. Otherwise I’ll wander off into a fog and drift along the floor, there, but awash in all that energy and commotion.

The show, while small, was bustling with interest and transactions. This is good and I think bodes well for the show to grow into something a bit more. It will probably not reach the size of the big shows. But it could be a great regional show for local enthusiasts capable of drawing enough vendors to make it worth attending for both vendors and buyers. There was a good number of pens, nib masters, and papers available — as well as Noodler’s Inks.

I enjoyed my first show. I only wish I’d gotten my camera out a lot more and made a bunch of images. Facepalm

The trip home was unremarkable. The Girl and I stopped a few times to refresh ourselves, get a bite, and find a geocache. Traffic was heavy now and again, especially where construction or an accident constricted the flow. We arrived home late and tired, but safe and glad to be home.

Back from DC

2015/09/182025/09/18 ruminator

The last week or so has been crazy. First, a week ago last Tuesday (about ten-days ago), my MacBook Pro suffered what appeared to be the Blue Screen of Death and nothing I did would rectify it. So, a trip to the Apple Store in Lancaster was required.

The genius inspected my notebook computer, then ran some diagnostics. The usual suspects turned up (no optical drive, non-OEM battery, failed logic board). I had intentionally removed the original hard drive and the optical disc last spring and replaced them with a SSD and a larger hard drive. The SSD is for system files and the hard drive is my /usr space. The original battery was swollen (meaning failed or imminent failure), so I replaced it with an aftermarket unit.

The logic board was troubling. I had suspected the problem was a failed logic board. Some snooping around the night before informed me that a replacement would be about $500 or more.

The genius looked at me, “There’s a chance that if a very specific test fails the maker of the display board will replace the unit.” He ran the test while I waited with bated breath.

The test failed. Therefore, I would not be out the $600 (confirmed) to replace the logic board. Nor would I be faced with the “Is it worth the repair?” decision. So, I left the machine and returned back to Red Lion to finish some work and prepare for my DC trip.

I left for DC Sunday afternoon, trepidated by having to go to the big city. I’m not a city boy and really prefer the outdoors to city life. But, I had a duty to do so I went.

When I arrived at the Hotel Monaco (a Kimpton property and highly recommended), I learned the topper would not fit in the garage. The valet and the doorman were kind enough to assist me in removing it. They stowed it in the luggage area. The valet took off in my rig to park it.

I went to check in and the desk clerks lost their minds over the Girl. She’s always a hit with people when we are out and about. After I got checked in, we went to our room and I discovered that I left the Girl’s bowl in the rig. So, we went back to the desk.

A new clerk was there and she made over the Girl too. In fact, she came out and asked to greet. So I set up a greet and they were acquainted. The clerk offered the Girl a Milkbone and they were BFFs. When I explained my situation, the clerk said “No problem. I’ll have a bowl sent to your room.”

We went into the hotel restaurant for a light supper — well, a light supper for me and a nap under the table for the Girl. I met William, my server, and we chatted given they were not busy. I learned that William earned a degree in hospitality, but his passion is for training. So, he’s working on his license for personal training and will be going into business for himself.

I enjoyed a nice, light supper, a dessert with a tawny Port, and then returned to the room. There I found two very nice stainless steel bowls and a bed for the Girl. I tossed the bed up on the big bed and took the bowls to fill in the bathroom. When I turned, the Girl was peeking over her new bed at me. She loved her little bed!

We walked back out to the front desk and I told them about her love of her little bed. I so appreciated them taking care of us like that.

Monday was all business. I met my colleagues in the morning, we prepared for our meeting, then headed for the Federal Department of Transportation facility. The Girl got to ride the subway (she did fine, even negotiating the escalator better than I do) and visit lots of new friends.

One funny event occurred on the subway. A young man had a set of cans (over the ear headphones) on. He made eye contact with the Girl and her energy perked up. When the train stopped, he made a step towards us to get off the car. “Woof!” the Girl said in her alarm voice and she sat up.

“It’s OK,” I told her, “eyes!” to get her focused back on me. It was all good, but the interaction made me laugh.

The meeting was challenging because of the way our scope is structured. The report was only half complete, so the relation between completed sections and sections to be completed was not present. That made the reviewers’ job quite difficult and it was reflected in the comments.

The Girl snored under the conference table, which made us all laugh. I think we all wanted to be snoring, actually.

I was relieved to have the meeting done. It was time to debrief and share an evening meal together.

My intent was to leave Tuesday, but I elected to stay over an extra day so I could see some places of interest. The Girl and I rose early Tuesday and walked down the National Mall. I have captures of the Washington Monument, the WWII, Korean War, and Vietnam War memorials, and Lincoln’s Memorial. I’ll probably post a few of them over the next few days both here and on my Instagram account. I deeply enjoy those monuments to our heroes.

The Mall is a mess of new construction, or rather reconstruction as they are renewing the turf and a number of the facilities.

We walked back past the White House, then turned east on F Street and headed back to the Monaco. I was hungry and she was hot, so we stopped into Nopa for a bite of lunch and a rest. It was good to be cool and the food was very good. One of the waitstaff was familiar with service dogs and made over the Girl.

We took a break in our room for a bit. Then we walked across the street to the National Portrait Gallery.

That was a hoot! The Girl had never seen so many of the things in that building. Much of the sculpture caught her interest. It was fun to watch her look at things. She was so engaged with her surroundings, yet she still paid attention to me.

Tired and hot, we returned to our room and I got a light supper from the restaurant. They had seared halibut and that was very good and about the right portion size for me.

Wednesday morning we rose early again and humped it to the Jefferson Memorial. Jefferson is one of my heroes. He was intelligent, hard working, and had insight into what was going on. That insight travels forward to today, in my opinion, and the mess of politics we find ourselves in. I don’t think he believed the Constitution to be a holy document, but I think it would appal him the degree to which it is neglected by school children of our time.

Park personnel were in the process of washing the interior of the memorial, so it was roped off. One of the workers let me in to get a couple of frames but about the time I was ready another worker shooed me off. I had to laugh.

The Girl and I humped it back to the hotel and made it just in time for me to grab a shower and make it before 1000 for a bite of breakfast. I really wanted my eggs and I just barely got them.

It was then time to wrestle the Yakima back on top of the 4Runner (thankfully I had help) and head home.

We stopped in Lancaster on the way home to retrieve my Mac. It was all fixed and someone else paid for the new logic board. I’m really glad to have my machine back.

What’s That?

2015/08/312015/08/31 ruminator

On one morning that seems so long ago, I took the Girl outside for her morning ritual before we began our day. We were living in Sparks at the time with our beloved friend Jimmy and had settled into a daily routine.

On this particular morning, the Girl was making her sniffy-rounds to determine if any interlopers had trespassed the night before. For some reason, something on the fence caught her eye. I watched her as her “hackle” (she doesn’t have enough outer coat to really have “hackles”) rose, her tail rose, and her posture stiffened. There is a tiny ball of fur that fluffs near the base of her tail (Older Son says she “has a mouse in her tail!”) and that expanded to its maximum dimension.

“Woof!” she said, followed by “grrrr…”. She was alerting me to the fact that there was something unusual on top of the fence.

So, of course, I had to make a capture of both the “problem” and the story. I laughed and laughed that morning. I love my funny Girl.

Then, morning business done, we headed back indoors to collect a few things and go for a long walk. It was a good day.

Angelica

2015/08/212015/08/16 ruminator

A few weeks ago, Jimmy and I elected to drive to Java Jungle in downtown Reno. Arttown was still going on and we had not been out and about much. Jimmy was working a lot and so was I. So, our social time had been limited to passings-by now and again. It was time and it was good to be out.

It was too warm for coffee, so I elected to have an iced tea, black of course. I got there a bit before Jimmy and had the Girl sitting next to me on the bench, watching the world go by. I noticed three squids (motorcycle riders who are/think-they-are racers) BS’ing at another table. They were telling war stories of various kinds.

Jimmy showed up, got his coffee, and sat down. We were chatting and people-watching when a beautiful young woman walked along the sidewalk outside the Java Jungle seating area.

“Get your camera ready…” Jimmy said, “I saw her up the street a bit ago.

“She’s gorgeous… and I only have the normal lens on my camera.”

The squids called out to her — not the catcall I expected, but asked her “Do you want a ride?” She gave them this stunning big smile and her demeanor was of the naive.

“I have no pants,” she said, and I immediately recognized that she was not a native English speaker.

“What’s that accent?” I asked Jimmy.

“Balkans.”

“It sounds like Ukrainian or Belorussian to me.”

The squids continued to talk her up and she clearly wanted a ride. There was a spare helmet and jacket and they found her some gloves, but no pants. So, she tucked her skirt under her butt when she climbed aboard.

“I hope he doesn’t scare her,” I looked at Jimmy.

“He probably will…” was Jimmy’s dry reply.

“She seems a bit naive to me,” I looked at Jimmy.

“She’s not,” he replied, “It’s part of the European woman package. They have a deep sense of who they are and they present themselves well.”

I watched her ride off with the motorcyclist. He appeared to be taking it easy on her — he made an easy turn onto the street and didn’t goose the bike on the takeoff. They were gone a few minutes and then returned. Jimmy was shooting away, having a zoom on his camera. I just watched. Her friend/handler arrived and they sat down. Then she came over to our table.

“You shoot a lot of pictures,” she said.

“It’s street photography,” I chimed in.

“What is ‘street photography?'” she asked. So we explained about the fun of wandering about looking for interesting things, people, and actions.

“Where are you from? Belarus?”

“Lithuania,” she smiled. Jimmy grinned and introduced me as ‘Dr. Dave,’ as he always does.

“Did he scare you,” I asked.

“A little,” she smiled, “but not too bad.”

Sometime during the conversation, one of us mentioned how beautiful she was. “All the girls are pretty in Lithuania,” she responded.

I have no idea whether that is true or not. But, Angelica has much more than just good looks. She has poise, intelligence, and carries herself with confidence and a kind of innocence. It was a pleasure to meet her and the capture is one of my favorites.

Jimmy asked for her email address to send her some of the captures. I looked over to her friend/handler and said “I bet this happens quite a lot.” He looked back at me, shrugged, and grinned.

I enjoy these chance encounters. When I remember to get an informal portrait, they are even better. I MUST learn to ask for the shot when I have these conversations with people I meet. I don’t know what it is about me that prevents me from asking. But I have to get over that.

The Crystal Mine

2015/08/072015/08/03 ruminator

On that same trip toward Verdi Peak (which we never made), we stopped at the Crystal Mine to play around looking for “points.” The mine was active in World War II, when it supplied crystal for radiocommunications. It’s still possible to find whole crystals, but it’s more difficult now than it used to be because everyone wants to find them.

The Girl had a blast hunting around, although I think her feet were a bit sore from the sharp quartz. There was quartz (and many other minerals) everywhere! I wish I had a mineralogy field book along because I still enjoy mineral identification. It’s been too many years since my geology laboratory.

I found a point fragment that was quite pretty. I also found quite a bit of galena and some fairly thin sheets of quartz that I liked.

One of the best parts was playing around with the camera. I contrast of white quartz, blue sky, and puffy white clouds caught my eye. So, I caught the image.

Play Misty for Me

2015/08/052025/08/05 ruminator

Many years ago there was a Clint Eastwood movie, Play Misty for Me. It was one of the psychodramas of the time and quite spooky. The title for my article was a free association based on my acquaintance, which I’ll tell you about.

Thursday evening came and my friend Jimmy arrived home from his first job. He looked into my room and remarked “I see boxes by the door, but it doesn’t look like you’re ready to leave.” I shrugged and said “Well, maybe Saturday, maybe Sunday… I have some work to do on this project that will take me a few hours.”

It was really hot that afternoon — the 4Runner’s dash thermometer read 102F. The Girl and I had been running errands, wrapping up a small project, procuring necessary items for my next trip, and trying to stay cool. I had been working on my report to address comments from the prime before I headed out. It was too hot to sleep yet anyway. But, I got settled down about 2300 and slept pretty well.

Friday morning came and while drinking my morning coffee, I decided I could get away if I really wanted to. So the Girl and I made our walk, I worked out, fed us, and got started on the last few things. It took me about a half-hour to pack them, so I showered and began loading the rig. I took my time with the rig because I faced a huge Tetris problem. In the end, I got my things in there plus the few things I wanted to stow in my unit.

We were out of the house by about 1100 and headed for Carson to take care of some last errands and stow those things I was leaving behind. On the way out of town we stopped at Sportsman’s Warehouse to pick up a couple last things, said goodbye to my neighbor (who works there), and then headed east on U.S. 50.

It was a much cooler afternoon than Thursday. I could have worked and been fine at Jimmy’s. Oh well… I had no idea. Regardless, it was good to be moving again. We stopped in Fallon for a few minutes to get out of the car and drink some water. I picked up a couple of geocaches along the way as well.

One of our stops was near Sand Mountain, to find a geocache. I thought about driving out there, but could tell it was already crowded with weekenders and decided that I didn’t want to interact. So, after the Girl chased a few lizards and I logged the geocache, we headed on.

I stopped at the Austin, Nevada cemetery to find another geocache, hoping it would be large enough to accommodate a couple of travel bugs I’d been hauling around. But, the hide was a small container so no joy.

I also was tiring and didn’t think I’d be able to make Eureka or Ely. In looking at lodging in Austin, the Cozy Mountain Motel got a lot of good reviews. But, when I drove by, the No Vacancy sign was already illuminated. So, I looked again and found the Pony Canyon Motel. The price was a little higher than I expected and I was surprised when I learned there was no air conditioning. But that wasn’t really bad as the evening cooled quickly.

The Girl and I settled in and were sitting outside enjoying the late afternoon air and light — watching the world go by. I noticed the beautiful light and retrieved my Fuji X-T1, making the capture above.

A young woman pulled in beside my rig and started rushing her things, including two cats, into her room adjacent to mine. The Girl took too much interest in the crated felines and drew a correction. “Sorry about that,” I said.

“No worries… they are so much work to take care of, not like a dog.”

“Well, dogs just require a different kind of work.”

“I gotta hurry, the restaurant closes at eight…” and off she flew. When she returned, I was boiling water to add to my freeze-dried supper, lasagna with meat sauce. I’m experimenting with backpacking meals. All that is required is the foil packet, boiling water, and a spoon. A long-handled spoon really helps. (I’ll write about that more in another article.) She walked past with her boxed pizza. “I see you made it.”

“Yep, health food,” she responded. The Girl’s nose went up as she walked by. “Must be pepperoni,” I said, “The Girl loves pepperoni.”

“I’ll save her some, then.”

“Don’t do me any favors, she’ll gas me.” We both laughed.

After I ate and cleaned up, I sat on the bench outside my room with my guitar, playing softly. A new goal of mine is to do those things that are important to me daily — reading, writing, music, photography. I’m working on getting some of my skill back on the instrument. So, I want to play a few minutes everyday. She came out of her room to get a few more of her things and smiled as she passed.

When she returned, she sat down in a nearby chair. I played for a few minutes and then she began to talk. She is learning the ukulele. She had no artistic encouragement when she was young and a friend had encouraged her to play. She took up the ukulele as something relatively easy to play and quite portable.

“Are you practicing regularly?”

“No. I often intend to, but I don’t. I binge, playing hours on one day and then nothing for a week.”

“You should commit to 15-minutes per day,” I suggested. “Don’t be regimented about it, like ‘I have to practice today,’ but make it something you do because you want to, because you get something from it. Don’t beat yourself up if you miss a session. But you’ll build muscle memory much faster if you practice regularly, even if it’s just a few minutes.”

I used to teach music in another life. My encouragement to my students was always to practice a little. Make it a focused session and keep it short. The goal is to be regular and focused. That’s the fastest way to learn and it’s a lot more fun.

“I’m Misty,” she held out her hand.

“I’m Dave,” and I took it.

Mid-visit there was a crash as the screen on her window fell out, hauling a small tan and white cat along with it. I called to Ki to stay in the room and we went over to grab the cat (she did) and I grabbed the screen. After a bit of futzing around, she got the window closed and I had the screen (mostly) back in place. After a few minutes getting her cat settled back down, she returned.

“I’m headed for Dallas to work on my Ph.D.” That led to a talk about graduate school, background, and a lot of stories about things. After an hour or two just chatting, I could tell she was tiring as she began yawning and had that look about her.

“I have to go to bed. I’m tired.”

I nodded, understanding.

“Perhaps I’ll see you in the morning. I want to see how you cook.”

I really enjoy these encounters. I enjoy interacting with people and hearing their stories. I meet interesting people along the way and am thankful for that.

Indeed, she was up and about before I cooked breakfast the next morning — a Saturday morning. She watched me prepare my eggs and oatmeal and was surprised that I had all the fixings. I was amused at her surprise. Why wouldn’t I have the things I like with me?

As I cleaned up and began my packing process, she loaded her vehicle. She knocked on my door and I asked her in. I gave her one of my cards. “Email me. I’d like to hear how your progress on your Ph.D. goes. When I’m in Dallas, I’ll drop by for a visit and we can have coffee or a beer.” She smiled, nodded, and looked at me for a moment.

I gave her a big hug, as I could see that was what she wanted.

Then she was off to Denver to see a friend, then to Dallas to get started on her work. “God Bless and be safe,” I said as I watched her go.

Once again, a living, breathing being moved into and out of my circle. She brought her energy and liveliness into my life for a few moments and then was gone. Will she email me? Will I see her again for that coffee or beer? I have no idea. I’m not even sure that it matters. It is what it is and I’m happy with that.

Then, as she drove away, my free-associating mind came up with “Play Misty for Me” and I knew I had a title for my story.

Verdi Peak

2015/08/032024/08/03 ruminator

A couple of weeks ago, a bright Saturday morning, Jimmy suggested we go for an adventure. I have another image that I’ll write about later, but the intent was to drive west to Verdi, show me around that interesting little town, and then drive up the trail to the Verdi Peak overwatch tower.

So, off we went. Verdi is an interesting little town and Jimmy knows the history of the area well. He’s an excellent tour guide and I love listening to him recount the tales of the various institutions and watering holes. Verdi used to be the place to come and party. But, with the crackdown on drinking and driving, that function of the town is long passed.

We turned up one of the forest roads and turned and twisted a bit, climbing up in the the pine woods. We stopped for a hunt at the Crystal Mine and hunted for points for a good long while, which was great fun. Then we headed back out the trail.

We worked our way up the slope toward Verdi Peak. There was a pull out along the ridge and we stopped there for a few pictures. Verdi was in the view and Reno could be seen in the distance. The Girl enjoyed hunting squirrels.

I made the capture of “The Sentinel” — a remnant of a fire that occurred here some years ago. Then we clambered back into the 4Runner and started off again. At a fork in the road, Jimmy thought we should go west, but the in-dash GPS showed the only trail heading east. So, east we went, although I warned “I don’t trust the maps on these trails. Sometimes they are not complete.”

Brush scraped both sides of the 4Runner as we headed down a slope. The farther we went, the worse the trail became. There were plenty of rolly-rocks (as I call them). The trail became very steep. It was not the steepest trail, nor the rolliest that I’ve been on, but it was certainly much longer than any bad stretch I previously experienced.

It was bad enough that Jimmy got out to scout ahead. As we negotiated a set of tight switchbacks, I looked at the side of the mountain and thought “If I slide out, this will be bad. There will not be any stopping until we reach the bottom of the hill. I don’t expect to survive that.”

There was no turning back. The trail was so bad and so steep that a Y-turn was not possible. Moreover, the trail was so steep that I might not have been able to climb back out. There was no way to go but forward… and down.

Eventually Jimmy decided the trail was acceptable once again and that a scout was no longer needed. He clambered back into the 4Runner and we continued to ease our way down the trail. Eventually the slope was less steep and there were fewer rocks. A dirt bike came up to us, so I made room for him to pass. That meant that there was access to this trail from the east side. I really didn’t want to go back.

We saw a trail break off to the left (north) of us. It was posted. Jimmy said “That’s where we need to be,” so that’s where we headed.

As we pulled out to the paved road, a homeowner was working on a bike with his son. I made eye contact and said “We got lost and this was the only way out we could find.”

“No worries!” he called back. Jimmy got out to chat (that gregarious Jimmy) and so I stepped out. The 4Runner was badly marked with Nevada pinstripes. Although I really don’t want to mess up my vehicle, I also know that I bought it to use and that it will get marks.

Jimmy rejoined me. “I’m usually the one doing the scaring. That was pretty scary.” I laughed.

“What was I to do? There was no way to go but forward… What would those who gave up do?”

“They’d call for transport to come get their vehicle.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I’m not much of one to give up.” I said. So we headed over the the fuel depot to refuel the 4Runner and head home. Jimmy bought iced tea and that was really good.

We stopped at the RV rental place where Jimmy works part time and started buffing out the pinstripes. They were bad enough that we had to go back Sunday morning to finish.

I deeply enjoy driving the trails. However, my rig doesn’t really have the tires for a trail of that kind. Still, it was a very good day, even if we made the wrong turn and had the challenge of working down the hard side of the mountain. Maybe there will be another time to get to Verdi Peak. I might take a chainsaw along, though, and trim some of that brush…

Random Ruminations

Category: stories