Home Sweet Home:
Tuzigoot (Too-ZEE-goot) is an ancient ruin sitting on a hill in the
Verde river flood plain - interesting but not exciting. I know the
houses I built won't last a thousand years, but at least they had
windows. |
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Jerome RV:
Jerome - one of Arizona's historic mining towns - now a haven for
ex-hippies and self-proclaimed artists. The "RV" came complete
with a sleeping dog and a lot of "power to the people"
graffiti. Sharon has hinted that if my hair gets much longer I may be in
the market for a similar vehicle. |
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River Otters:
The guide book distinctly said "to look for river otters in this
permanent creek" - did the author mean small mammals or did he
grossly misspell a word that should begin with a "U"? |
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Sasquatch:
It seems that on nearly every hike I go on, I see this particular foot
print, always going in the opposite direction that I am going but never
in the same direction? At some places on this trail the imprint was so
good that you could read the manufacture's name written on the sole - it
is the same brand as mine. I wonder if I will ever meet the wearer? |
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Weary Traveller:
Let's play "Name that Bird"?
Usually, trails through riparian environments do not closely follow
beside the stream. For some reason, I had decided to leave the trail and
to go down to the edge of the creek just in time to see this monster
land in the middle of a small pond. He was a long way away from me and I
had no clear shot at a photo from the bank. Then I noticed the tree; a
cottonwood which had grown out at a slight angle over the water with
it's 1st branches about 15 feet above the ground. At my age, I |
| probably have no business climbing trees; now that I think
about it, my mother (and probably my other mother - Susan) did not
believe there was such a thing as "a good age for climbing
trees", but then that is another story. First I tried to climb the
truck of the tree in a fashion like we have seen demonstrated by the
Hawaiians climbing coconut palms - slid back down well short of the
branches. Next I looked for something to use to fashion a ladder with -
no luck. Finally it occurred to me that I might take a |
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| running leap at the trunk and run up the side
of the tree - no luck, hard landing, but the camera didn't break! I
peered over the rushes to make sure my prey was still on his pond - he
was acting very impatient, I have to get into that tree - NOW. So with a
longer run, a bigger leap, two strides up the trunk, a big stretch and
with the camera clanging against the branch, my tenuous grasp
held. I shinnied up to a crotch in the tree and snapped off three
long range pictures. Sadly, the bird had wondered away to the outer
limits of my telephoto - I had all the pictures that I would be able to
take and I had a more immediate problem - now how in the world was I
going to get out of the tree? |
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We're Watching:
I finally found the end of the trail and the springs which feed the creek. Having nearly stepped upon this small citizen of the pond while crossing the stream, I watched him swim under the raft of moss and algae, from were his head poked through to watch this clumsy intruder. |
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