The Decompression of a Boomer

A Huntin’ for Morels

May 25, 2014

Every spring in southeast Idaho, around Mother’s Day, if the conditions are favorable, and you know where to look, you can find morel mushrooms. My brother Eric knows about everything there is to know about morels – he’s been picking them for years. If he collects a bumper crop then he sells them on the internet and can make some pretty good money. However, there were hardly any to be found the past two years; it was too warm, or dry, or too cool, or too wet. The conditions have to be just right.

David and I have never hunted for morels, I’m not even sure I’ve tasted morels. All I knew is that in the wild they look like tiny brains that popped out of the earth. They are a prized delicacy, often used in sauces, with a rich complex flavor that compliments many foods.

One morning at the beginning of May, I was talking to Eric on the phone, and he was all fired up on the subject of morels. So far the weather conditions this year looked favorable – and we might find morels this year. So we set a date to go morel hunting – Eric, David and I, on Wednesday, May 14. Luckliy, the weekend before we went, Mother’s Day, it was cool, cloudy and slightly rainy. Prospects looked good!

Now, Eric wouldn’t be too pleased with me if I told you exactly where we went morel hunting, but I can say that the best place to look for them around here is on bottomland (low lying land along a watercourse) near cottonwood trees. We are there now. Hunting.

David hunting for morels

Eric gave us strict instructions: You must bring a sharp knife to cut the mushroom and leave the stump (never pull the mushrooms out), and clean the mushroom of any grass or dirt before dropping it in a mesh laundry bag (so they will drop spores as you hunt).

The pickins seemed a little thin, to be honest. Of course, a young lady was coming out of the area with her loot just as we were going in. Early bird gets the worm! I was so anxious to find a mushroom. I got pretty discouraged in my hunt when not finding a one after the first fifteen minutes … Ah! but then …

I did find one! Yes. One.

Impressive, eh? They look like tiny brains all right.

Then I hear Eric holler from about 50 feet away. He had found some.

A small colony! You can see they are already beginning to dry out.

Then I found a colony. I learned that when you see one mushroom, look closely at the area all around it – they tend to grow in clusters.

What a thrill! – makes your heart pound right out of your chest!

We gathered them up.

Okay. Walk with me in this video – we’ll go a huntin’ for morels!

Did your heart just jump out of your chest, or what? Later, when I played the video back I realized there were TWO morels there (a smaller one was nestled in the underbrush to the left).

Time to stop now, park your hiney on a stump, and dig the stick-tites out of your mesh bag.

My bag had gotten all knarled up with about a hundred stick-tites, and as I viciously tore at every single one to get it off, I realized how velcro was invented.

We ended up in an open field of ancient sagebrush. Amidst a buzzing of bees. You can stand there with me in this video and listen (as David continues his hunt). Turn your sound way up –

A little later we passed the hives

We also collected some fresh asparagus. We only found maybe 3/4 pound between the three of us, which David and I took home. Mmmmmm … Steamed fresh asparagus! Another prized delicacy! We graciously offered it to Megan and Glen (Megan’s boyfirend) for dinner. The conversation went like this:

Me: “Have some fresh asparagus!”

Glen: “Never heard of it.”

David: “Wha…? How could you not have heard of asparagus? It grows wild along the canal banks here in Idaho!”

Glen: “Nope. Never heard of it.”

I shared this conversation with our older son, Aaron. He replied, “I don’t blame him. I didn’t willingly eat asparagus for close to 20 years after you guys forced it on me when I was about 7.”

Sheezh! What’s so intimidating about fresh asparagus?

This is the only live colony we happened upon. Anywhere it wasn’t sheltered, the delicate, tender stalks were killed off by the light freeze we experienced two nights before.

Well, the light is waning now and it’s time to head toward the car.

Oh thrill! “POUND! Boom-boom…” Someone actually dropped a precious morel, adding to our spoils!

Which look like this:

Eric was going to dry the mushrooms.

8:45 PM. Driving into a beautiful sunset toward home now.

With images of succulent morel colonies prancing in my head.

Now we can hone our French cooking skills.

Oh, and try to convince Aaron that that bit about us forcing fresh asparagus on him at age 7 to where he wouldn’t willingly eat asparagus for the next 20 years, is a false memory.

Tags: fresh asparagus, hunting for morels in the wild
Posted in Idaho, Spring | Leave a Comment »

The Grooviness of Spring

May 18, 2014

Southeast Idaho has a fifth season, called “Sprinter” – between winter and spring, which is basically … uh, winter, interspersed with a few hopeful signs of spring. Sprinter starts about when you think spring is supposed to – say, March 21, and it hangs on, and on …

This sprinter was made a little more spectacular by the extraordinary “Blood Moon” lunar eclipse that occurred on the crystal clear night of April 15. I snapped a photo of the moon over our back deck somewhere around 1 AM, at the beginning of the eclipse.

Okay, so you can’t take clear photographs of eclipses using your smart phone. Dang-it! But it was fun to watch the moon disappear … uh, well, then hop into bed, because it was very late.

In early April we resumed our after-dinner walks. The light was coming back! – what a marvelous thing to greet each new day knowing daylight will last a few minutes longer today than yesterday, and each new day will grow longer for weeks to come.

The trees stand hopeful and strong against the evening sky

Even in dormancy.

The face of an old ravaged man (winter?) is peering

through these tree tops, as if to issue a warning: winter lurks!

Ah, but look! A robin. They’re coming back!

This robin was perched on our honey locust tree in our back yard, albeit, looking as if he had second thoughts about his timing of migrating back.

Easter Sunday brings warmth, and blossoms!

A flowering crab, maybe? These are the first trees to bloom.

Leaves unfolding on deciduous tree limbs drape the spruce trees in the background

with Christmasy garlands.

Now, on every block spindly trees and gangly bushes are bursting open –

even the tiniest branches are coated with blossoms.

Signs of spring abound!

Tulips (of course!)

Daffodils and iris

Dandelions! Oh sweet first appearance, oh harking of spring!

Oh velvety perkiness and yellow brilliance!

Oh vast nectar for bees!

Oh robust proliferation across lawns and green meadows!

Uh, wait a minute. That’s right. Dandelion blooms curl over, then morph and pop back up as white fluffy-heads stuffed with countless downy-tethered seeds that parachute off and repopulate impeccably manicured lawns, rendering fruitless all good citizens’ previous efforts to eradicate the noxious weed.

Which is not so great, when this yard belongs to you, or, as in this case, one of your neighbors. What’s spring without at least one yard in every neighborhood smothered in dandelions.

May trees line streets and driveways throughout the town. Right on the button, the first week of May, they bloomed. We have a gigantic ancient May tree right in our front yard

I took a close-up of the tree through our upstairs bedroom window

May trees are stunning, even on a cloudy day.

Not to overlook another sure sign of spring – this one right in the comfort of your living room, let the winter weather rage! Sitting on your couch in front of the TV – you can enjoy the heightened excitement surrounding network series and shows as they build and climax to their season finales, whether you’ve actually been following them or not. David was cruising the channels and we happened onto ‘American Idol’ where they were down to the top four contestants and whittling it to three. But this night they had something really special in store for the viewer, something new and different, never before offered on the show. This week, each of the four remaining contestants would pose beside a cardboard shadow head or something (where YOU put YOUR head) so the viewer could snap a ‘selfie’ with them.

Groovy! I tried to do it, but couldn’t manage it – fiddled with my phone, fumbled around, which, of course, totally motivated David to rise to the occasion. He paused the screen with the first contestant, and proceeded to get himself into position. I snapped a photo of David setting himself up for his ‘selfie.”

David successfully took the ‘selfie,’ possibly his first-ever. Here it is:

(Don’t ask me who the contestant is. We both have no idea. This is the first episode of American Idol we have paid any attention to this whole season.)

Groovy, eh? David is such a radical dude, man. We are so hip!

Yesterday Megan piped up from the living room, “What’s it doing out there?” (the quintessential question of the day in Idaho). To which, of course, I flew out of the kitchen, raced to the dining room window, flew up the sash, just sure it was snowing. Which, it kinda was. Enough so to where you had to do a double take. I stepped out on the front porch and took this photo:

It is snowing! Blossoms!

A high wind had kicked up. Basically stripped the May trees of their blossoms.

Oh well, spring in Idaho. There. I said it! “Spring!”

The last clear signs of spring reside on our back deck – stacks of bags of ‘soil enhancers’ for the gardens. I bought them yesterday.

Took a close-up of a corner of one of our gardens.

So great to see the perennials back! Uh, well, those are tulips. Wind whipped.

Hey, wait a minute. That’s not all flowers. There’s a couple of imposters.

Dandelions!

Spring has sprung. Summer is just around the corner. Well, maybe not the next corner. I’ll surely recognize summer when it gets here. A sure sign of summer will be when David shaves that massive winter growth of hair off his face.

Tags: Selfies with the top four on American Idol, Spring in Idaho
Posted in Gardening, Idaho, Spring | 3 Comments »

April Skies, Moonscapes and Albino Rock Stars

May 3, 2014

“Uh, let me guess … you’re still blogging about your April 11-13 weekend get-away.”

Why, yes!! Could I really NOT share my photos of Idaho’s magnificent April skies?

Behold divine inspiration and energy exploding before your eyes.

Sunday, April 13, 2014. We are headed on Highway 20 toward Idaho Falls now after our stop at Shoshone Falls. David is driving, Eric is navigating, and I’m in the back seat mesmerized by the sky.

Good-bye Magic Valley! I snap this photo:

“Uh, let me guess. You’ve maneuvered your way into a cattle feed lot and captured a close-up of a gargantuan pile of manure.”

No, actually! … we’re at the Craters of the Moon National Monument, which lies along highway 20 between Arco and Carey, Idaho, or, if, perchance, you haven’t heard of the tiny towns of Arco and Carey, halfway between Boise and Yellowstone Park.

Craters of the Moon is the spot along Idaho’s Snake River plain where the earth had one of it’s biggest bowel movements from 15,000 to just 2000 years ago. Well, or actually, one early traveler called it “Devil’s vomit.”

The lava field spreads across 618 square miles, southeastward from the Pioneer Mountains. It is part of the Great Rift volcanic zone that extends across almost the entire Snake River Plain. The rugged landscape is still remote and undeveloped with only one paved road across the northern end, where visitors enter the park.

You can hike on paved trails and explore tunnels and caves.

Deeming it best to heed the signs and stay on the trails, we head off on the trail to Indian tunnel.

Not exactly a photographer’s paradise. I snap a photo toward the Big Southern Butte. Ah… how does that Easter verse go?.. (by Thomas Blackburn)

“Awake, thou wintry earth
Fling off thy sadness!
Fair vernal flowers,
Laugh forth your ancient gladness!”

Yeah, well, these plants are trying. What a hardy, willful bunch! If the weather conditions are favorable (moist and cool) for the next several weeks, then there could be an abundance of flowers blooming toward the end of May and early June – prickly pear (cactus), red Indian paintbrush, and the sego lily.

We’re at the entrance to Indian tunnel now. It is actually a lava tube, which, the way I understand it is, the lava cooled on the top while it kept flowing out underneath, leaving a hollow space. “Let’s do it!” exclaims Eric. David decides not to – he is wearing sandals. But he will meet us at the other end.

Eric and I entered the cave down this handy flight of stairs:

and then tried to keep an eye on each other-

Do you see Eric ahead? One of the rules is to never enter a cave or tube alone.

Half way through we greet David peering down at us from on top.

The lighting isn’t exactly conducive to capturing photos, but I do have a flash on my i-Phone. Here, behind Eric, I think we are coming out, but it turns out we are just entering another chamber …

But we have reached the far end now:

“Born again, Ma!”

David is waiting for us.

We follow the cairns back to the cave entrance.

And head back to the car on the neatly paved trail.

To view about every photo imaginable of the Craters of the Moon, check out this site!

So, we’re driving east again on Highway 20 alongside the Big Southern Butte now:

Then the highway curves past the twin Buttes

We’re just outside Idaho Falls now; Taylor Mountain has come into view. I’m sitting in the back seat, looking at Taylor Mountain in the distance – and see this herd of free-range cattle ahead. I snap a photo as we’re sailing by:

Eric pipes up, “That herd of cattle has its very own albino rock star!”

Huh?

“You know. We humans have our albino rock star; why can’t a herd of cattle have their albino rock star too?”

“You mean ….” well, if you were born before say, 1960, you know exactly who Eric is talking about. But I’ll give all you old fogies a hint, just in case: His initials are E.W. and his brother, J.W. is also an albino musician.

Okay, so here’s a link to E.W.’s Wikipedia page. He states, “In school I had a lot of friends. I wore a lot of white shirts to, like, blend in I guess. No one really gave me a hard time about being albino or taking special education classes. Then again, I wasn’t really popular.” He and his brother were both in Special Ed classes in High School (I guess because people couldn’t deal with their looks?) even though Edgar (has it come back to you yet?) was a musical prodigy.

All right, so here are you-tube links so you can listen to E.W.’s monster 1972 and ’73 hits, ‘Free Ride’ and ‘Frankenstein.’ (Has it come back to you now?)

And on that note, I guess I can officially declare it a ‘wrap’ on the blogs about our April 11-13 weekend-getaway.

Um, unless I’ve forgotten something … is that possible?

Tags: Craters of the Moon National Monument, Edgar Winter, Southeastern Idaho
Posted in Idaho | 1 Comment »

From Jackpot to the Magic Valley

April 27, 2014

You probably aren’t panicked about this, or anything, but I never got us (David, Eric, and I) safely home from our weekend get-away to the City of Rocks two weekends (and two blogs) ago. You’ve been worried, haven’t you? No? I do have a few more photos to share, granted, it has occurred to me that, given modern technology, smart phones, and the like – just about every other Joe Blow on earth has photos to share, too. Yeah, but do they have THIS photo:

of us entering Jackpot, Nevada, a gambling town in northern Nevada sitting on Highway 93 about a mile south of the Idaho border.

Jackpot, Nevada, middle of no-where. Population: 1200 – of which, save a few stragglers out on the nearby golfcourse, I’ve likely about captured the entire population in this photo.

That tall tower on the left is Cactus Pete’s Hotel and Casino and off to the right is the Horseshoe Inn and Casino (owned by Cactus Pete’s). Otherwise you can stay at the West Star Resort on Poker Street or the Four Jacks Hotel a bit further south on Highway 93.

We had reserved a room at the Horseshoe for Saturday night (April 12) on account of to consider this a ‘weekend’ get-away we had to be away at least one more night. Jackpot is about two hours south of the City of Rocks. Cactus Pete’s brings in respectable entertainment from time to time, too, and I was game to see a show. Eric and David were game too – for about any show, really. Oh WOW! The Chippendales 25th Year Anniversary Show is in town! – an all-macho-male erotica troupe of ten hunky guys putting on a big sexy strip show! Check out the link here. (Great photos! You could piece them together for your own virtual show. Gr-oww-lll!!!)

“The Chippendales dancers’ distinctive upper body costumes include a bow tie and shirt cuffs worn on an otherwise bare torso.” Whoopee! “Established in 1979, Chippendales was the first all-male stripping troupe to make a business performing for mostly female audiences. Through the quality of its staging and choreography, Chippendales also helped legitimize stripping as a form of popular entertainment.”

“We’re not going.” Declared Eric and David.

“AWWWWWWW.”

They played poker instead, which was fine with me. I was exhausted anyway, from all that hiking in the City of Rocks we did earlier today, and I fell straight into bed after dinner. As for Eric and David’s success at the Poker tables, let me just say, they were both back in the room before midnight and neither one are furthering their fantasies about quitting their day jobs and becoming professional poker players.

It’s Sunday morning now, and we’ve hit the road north back toward Idaho Falls, through Twin Falls, or the area known in Idaho as the “Magic Valley.” It’s magic all right, with the smell of concentrated cow manure strong enough to burn out the insides of your nostrils. We must have passed about five enormous cattle feedlot operations. I tried to just ignore them at first but finally snapped a photo of one.

In these operations the cattle are fenced in – in a big mud-shit hole (surrounded in the fenced area by huge mounds of collected manure) and the rancher just sets the hay bales along the outside perimeter of the fence – with holes in the fence barely large enough for the cows to stick their heads through to get the hay. We passed the largest feedlot you could ever imagine, which was back from the road about a half mile. You could barely see it; we gasped to glimpse the size of it – you could surely smell how large it was. I have now solemnly sworn to serve only pastured beef raised in humane conditions at our house (and I’m sticking to it). The images and smells of those feed lots still make me sad, and sick!

The feedlots aside, (YUCK YUCK YUCK) there is a very magical place in the Magic Valley, Shoshone Falls – a waterfall on the Snake River located about five miles east of Twin Falls. At 212 Feet high and about 900 feet wide, they are known as the Niagra of The West. The Shoshone Falls are actually 45 feet higher than Niagra Falls.

Depending on the volume of water present in the falls it may take on many different forms. When the water is high it will rage over the cliffs in a solid broad wall of water, and drop low enough (depending on time of year and diversion of the Snake River for irrigation) to where three or four delicate streams braid down the nearly dry cliffs. (Check out this great informational link about the Falls)

A park overlooking the waterfall is owned and operated by the City of Twin Falls. Here we are, standing on the overhang checking out the falls and the canyon. I see Eric is wearing his bomber hat and another one of his fashionable t-shirts:

offering invaluable care-for-the-liver advice.

Here is a picture of the canyon below the falls (taken on Sunday, April 13, 2014.)

Gorgeous! With a beautiful sky to match.

In 1974 daredevil Evil Knievel attempted to jump the south ridge of the Snake River Canyon – about 2 miles down that canyon from where we are standing.

And here are pictures of the falls:

“Braided streams.”

Okay, so today the water level is low and although it’s still beautiful, it’s a bit underwhelming compared to the experience we had here three years ago, June 11, 2011. Granted, we were standing here at the same time the Snake River in Idaho Falls was overflowing its banks, flooding the riverside parks. But hey! We took photos and videos of it then. And I still have them on my i-Phone. Of course. Here they are:

The canyon:

The Falls:

My video of the falls:

David’s video of the falls:

And one last shot of a very magnificent rainbow.

Yeah. The ‘Magic Valley’ in south cental Idaho. You really gotta see it to believe it.

Tags: Chippendales, Jackpot, Magic Valley, Shoshone Falls
Posted in Idaho, travel | Leave a Comment »

Childhood Easter Accoutrements and Other Stuff

April 22, 2014

Easter has come and gone but not without my recalling memories from childhood of my family dressing up for church on Easter Sunday. It was no small feat with a family of eight children – 4 boys and 4 girls. I was nestled smack dab in the middle of the 4 boys – so my parents had 2 girls, 2 boys, then me, then 2 boys, then the youngest was a girl. It’s an ordeal just describing the number of kids, gender birth order, etc. well, just imagine the ordeal of getting us all ready for Easter Sunday Church Service. Of course, we were never on time, and so that was also a huge ordeal – the ten of us blowing in the doors with the Service in full session, cramming ourselves into already crowded pews. We were never on time to church, period, per my recollection, save the one Sunday morning that both my dad and my older sister, Steph, unbeknownst to each other, set the kitchen clock forward 10 minutes. That Sunday we arrived to service right on the button, and it seemed a miracle (who says miracles don’t happen in church?).

So this past Sunday I was amused to find our paper delivery man had slept in – like, by four hours to my calculation, since our Sunday paper didn’t arrive till 11 AM. I guess that’s what triggered my childhood memories of Easter. Lateness. Anyway, I emailed my sister Steph, wishing her a Happy Easter, and reminisced about our large family trying to pull off church with the girls in their stiff white hats with the brims piled high with pink and yellow silk flowers, white gloves, and the weather was usually terrible – so our hats would blow off our heads and halfway across the lawn as soon as we stepped out the front door. Steph replied back, “Mom always took so seriously getting us our accoutrements for Easter. I remember how much I loved that little ‘muff’ – that fluffy white contraption you could tuck your hands into to keep warm.”

The muff!

I remember that ‘muff’. It was a white tube, maybe 12″ long, 7″ wide, made of fake rabbit fur. Lined with satin. You stick your hands into each end where they can nestle in and keep warm. I wore it on Easter one year and it must have been a hand-me-down from Susie and Steph – because I can’t imagine (1) mom buying two muffs and (2) any girl wearing a muff more than once. You shove your hands into the muff which renders your hands completely useless – you’re now a double-hand amputee – I can’t imagine even wearing the muff in the car, are you kidding? While sitting next to your brothers? You need your hands to defend yourself. What, do you bop your brothers over the head with the muff when they start picking on you? Then they grab the muff and play keep-away, tossing it over your head in the back seat, you madly groping the air trying to get it back. I must have worn it on my forearm, actually – what a pain-in-the butt accoutrement. Yeah, you don your hat and muff and walk out the front door – your hat blows off – so what do you do with the muff when you shed it to chase after your hat, whilst trying to keep from getting your patent leather shoes all muddied too?

Even ‘Barbie’ had a muff as a fashion accessory. I Googled it just in case your’re skeptical – here is the link -(Hey, maybe I’d like to buy a muff for Barbie, you know, if I still had one …) My Barbies from childhood had zits, boobs punctured with needles, bitten off toes, singed hair, and were usually found naked, compliments of my brothers. If any of my Barbies had a muff it was probably last seen wrapped around one of the kitchen knives. Or maybe affixed over the end of the dog’s tail. One of my friend’s Barbie’s had a muff, for sure. I distinctly remember it. Except I don’t know how you would play with a Barbie wearing a muff. You shove the muff up on her forearm, bind her hands together, then slide it back over her bound hands. Then you jump her up and down in her stilletos, stiff-legged since her legs don’t bend. What else would you do with her? Move her around so her pony tail flies up and down. You certainly wouldn’t put her behind the wheel of her new Ferrari.

Well, since anyone under the age of 55 will not likely associate the word “muff” with a female fashion accoutrement that hails from the early sixties (specifically worn at Easter) and the Victorian era of history – I will clarify the term using the dictionary – which gives you four definitions: (1) (noun)- “A warm tubular covering for the hands” (2) (noun)- (Sports) “Dropping the ball” (3) (verb) – “fail to catch, as of a ball” (4) (verb) – “make a mess of, destroy, or ruin”.

Well, then if you Google ‘muff’ you will find a fifth definition that arose from “That 70’s Show” – Apparently, ‘muff’ has became slang for ‘vagina.’ That figures. And I suppose anyone reading this who is under the age of 50 (and every male over the age of 10?) already knows this.

“Muff.” Well, it does have a colorful history. For me, anyway.

Tags: Easter Dress, Muffs, Vintage Barbie Accessories
Posted in Holidays, Uncategorized, Women's health | 2 Comments »

Albion, Idaho, and the ‘City of Rocks’

April 15, 2014

This past weekend David and I, and my brother Eric, visited the ‘City of Rocks National Reserve’ in south central Idaho. We can hardly travel now without Eric, besides, he is familiar with about every rock and cranny of Idaho and suggested the trip in the first place. Our only condition was wherever we went it had to be ‘south’ – we are so winter-weary. The City of Rocks is about 120 miles southwest of us, near the Utah border.

We left Idaho Falls Friday, April 11 about 4 PM. Destination: Albion, Idaho, a town of about 260 people near the east entrance to the park. We reserved a room at the Albion Bed and Breakfast –

We are south of Burley now, traveling on 500 South toward Albion. Check out the sky! “Lenticular clouds.’ David explains.

Lenticular clouds ( I Googled it) are stationary lens-shaped clouds that form in the troposphere, normally in perpendicular alignment to the wind direction. (And, yes, we’ve had lots of wind direction.) Due to their shape, they have been offered as an explanation for some Unidentified Flying Object (UFO) sightings. Uh, you mean like the UFO sighting above that town we’re approaching?…

I can’t resist posting one more photo – of the waxing moon rising between the lenticular clouds:

We arrive at the Albion Bed and Breakfast just before dark. It is owned and run by a very interesting fellow named Chad, who restored/converted the Albion State Normal School, established in 1893, into a very comfortable place to stay. The school was established as a teacher’s training school but closed it’s doors in 1951. It was in quite a state of disrepair when Chad bought the property about a decade ago. He gave us a tour, describing all the improvements he had made to open it up as a bed and breakfast. Chad served us up a killer homemade breakfast on Saturday morning – here is a link to the B&B – for detailed reviews and photos (including a photo of Chad and his family).

By Saturday late morning we entered the City of Rocks. Here we are embarking on our first hike, the Stripe Rock Loop, near the east (Almo) entrance of the park,.

We pass a grove of quaking aspen, stunning even in dormancy

The ‘Inner city’ of the City of Rocks is sprawled out before us in the distance

with the Albion mountains as a backdrop.

Monsters and critters seem to inhabit the granite spires. I am pretty sure that’s an owl gazing at me

– the critter on the left of that outcropping.

Now we are looking down the back of someone’s throat – at a giant uvula

supported by reams of muscle and connective tissue.

Go for the ‘Beef Jello/Banana’ or …

the North Fork Circle Creek trail? We chose the latter.

There are over 22 miles of hiking in the City of Rocks. Here is a link to a map of the trails.

Granite spires and rock structures range in height from 30-600 feet. There are several enormous textured rock structures that are tailor made for rock climbing. Here is one:

If you look carefully, you will see two climbers scaling the face of this rock. Here I have zoomed in on the same rock –

The climbers have several companions at the base manning the ropes.

Eric poses for a photo

Is that critter in the rock right behind Eric mimicking his pose? Hmmmm?????
(What do YOU think?)

Then we see this Giant riding a Harley with his helmeted side-kick seated behind him.

David captured a photo of me –

I had just shed my fleece – the clouds were clearing and the day opened up into marvelous warmth and sunshine.

We passed by “Bucket Land”

What’s on your bucket list? A close encounter with Aliens?

Next we pass ‘Mad Grandpa Furby with Gentle Turtle,’ surrounded by their offspring

Protected from eastern invaders by their friend, Giant Snake.

We’re headed by car now to the ‘Inner City’ of the City of Rocks. Along the way we can hear the howls of

a southwestern coyote.

We stop at campsite 32, walk a few hundred feet, peer through the widow arch

and check out the adjacent canyon.

We drive to the parking lot at “Parking Lot Rock” and hit the Creekside Towers Trail into the ‘Inner City.’

Right off the bat we meet this rhesus monkey – you see his head in profile

peering to the west.

Then we meet this sad-eyed elephant

perched all by himself.

And a snake

sunning himself –

A thinker …

(David, struck by a bolt of inspiration…),

A proud couple standing erect (shall I say?) amongst some very large boulders

Female?… and indisputably… MALE

“No, David and Eric, don’t even consider it – you don’t have crash pads.”

I derive such comfort from these “You Are Here’ Maps:

Except I doubt the map would be of much use to this person right now…

traversing the face of this huge granite rock.

We stood and watched her plant, cling, and claw her way toward the top

connected to a line tethered from the top –

While hungry predators circled above

Actually, A whole ‘clean-up’ crew was hovering, too wily and swift to capture in a photo.

Gotta put a wrap on this!

We’re headed back toward the car now – ascending the Stairway’s Trail. We open up to this panoramic view:

And then darned if we don’t run into Mount Rushmore

A Monument of characters inhabiting the City of Rocks.

Back at the parking lot stands a rock as big as Noah’s Ark – “Parking Lot Rock.” Except the sun is shining so brightly behind it I can’t take a decent photo of it.

I do take photos of the bulletin boards in the parking lot.

Not too decent either. But Eric and I find the message board interesting. We tried reading them all.

Then Eric pointed this one out:

Thank goodness for social media. I bet he’ll be so happy to hear the news from Pegg when she finds him on Facebook. Well, all I can say is, aside from being stiff and broken all over from all that hiking we did today, being the old fart that I am does have its advantages.

Tags: Albion Bed and Breakfast, Albion Idaho, City of Rocks Idaho
Posted in Idaho, travel | 4 Comments »

Rudy got fat

April 6, 2014

When our two older sons grew up and flew the nest we entered a new stage of life. Even the pets we had when the boys were young grew old and died. So six years ago we got a new puppy. A red miniature poodle. We named him ‘Rudy.” We’ve spoiled him rotten, which is of course, our perogative. After all, he’s just a dog.

But he’s a happy dog living in happy dog heaven. Why? Table scraps. He has trained us to be messy cooks who drop bits of hamburger, cheese, turkey, bacon, cooked brocolli, even ice cream (whilst pretending it’s an ‘accident’, of course). He stands waiting-and-ready by anyone at the kitchen counter, to pluck any wayward bit from mid-air, or to lap up any mess on the floor. He will gladly help with the dishes, too. He’ll hop up on the counter when we aren’t looking, lick the plates clean, you know, so we can just put them in the dishwasher. Lick the counter clean too.

“You bad dog. Don’t give me that look. You’re not getting up on the counter!”

I remember when we first got Rudy and I was supposedly training him. A book written specifically about poodles stated in bold letters on about page 2: Do not feed poodles table scraps. Nothing should be added to their dog food.” (yes, I can hear you now.)

Lately, for a while now, I’ve realized he’s gotten fat. I’ve started shaming him about it. “You’re fat!” But he’s so adorable and bouncy and cute, and happy, who cares? He’s just a dog.

Signs have been there that he has been, shall I say, ‘expanding’. When we walk him in the park nowadays strangers will say, “Ah, what a cute dog! What kind of dog is he?” To which I’m thinking, Are you daft? Don’t you recognize a poodle? Actually, yes they do. But features like ‘stocky’ and ‘rotund’ or any description reminiscent of a ‘butterball’ do not describe poodles. People do know poodles. They’re just not recognizing that Rudy is one.

So, enter, a fatty tumor on Rudy’s left side. It appeared a couple months ago and has grown bigger. Megan and I took him to the vet last week to have it looked at. We got good news – and bad news. Good news: It’s a confirmed fatty tumor (albeit not a large lump of butter lodged under his skin that he filched from the butter dish). It’s benign. “No – it’s not going to grow tentacles or metastasize.” (Whew!) Bad news: Rudy had gained 1 1/2 LBS since his last visit. (I must stop these visits to the vet!)

“How fat is he?” I ventured to ask. The vet’s assistant hopped right on the question – taking various measurements of Rudy – his neck and head (which, admittedly his head is the only thin part left of him), his upper and lower leg, his torso. Then she disappeared, and returned with this 3-page printout – Rudy’s customized doggie-weight-management program. Page 2 presents the ugly facts along with visuals:

Can you guess the breed of any of these dogs? I guess it’s your generic ‘tubby-living-a-dog-heaven’s-life’ breed. The news is not good in regards to Rudy. As a male “POO” his ideal weight is 13 1/2 pounds. With his real weight at 20.9 pounds he’s at 48% body fat and “at ‘serious risk’ for arthritis, diabetes, reduced mobility, increased physical injury, Cancer, respiratory disease, kidney disease, Pancreatitis, and shortened life expectancy.”

You expect me to pay for this vet visit?

We left the vet’s office with Rudy on a strict weight reduction plan along with a bounty of doggie heath improvement products, luckily most of them samples: Special Diet dog food, to be precisely measured and rationed throughout the day, reduced to account for additonal supplements, like the sample glucosamine chondroitin chews they sent home with him for joint support. Which begs the question, what about our joints? Give this supplement to our dog and feel it’s not necessary for us? Of course, his incessant leaping off our elevated antique bed would be the equivalent in height to us incessantly leaping off the roof of our front porch. Anyway, don’t think we’re going to spring for the enzymatic powder to sprinkle on his food for dental health – (hey, only 60 bucks for a 4-month supply!). I did buy some enzymatic toothpaste with a doggie toothbrush – both of which have since been sitting on the kitchen counter, unopened.

So my plan is to have Rudy down to 13.49 pounds in 27 weeks. The weight loss graph is all printed out on the third page. I took a ‘before’ picture of him – you know, the ‘before a third of what you see here’ melts away:

I’m not sure about that look he’s pulling off with his eyes. Maybe a “Are you sure you’re gonna do this to me?” look.

I shared the whole plan with David. “Geez.” he said. “Let him enjoy life. He’s just a dog.”

And then after a long pause, “You’re not going to start on me next are you?”

Tags: miniature poodle care, poodles and table scraps
Posted in Diets, pets | 2 Comments »

March White Lamb Madness

March 30, 2014

In southeast Idaho, March came in like a lion, with howling winds, snows, temperatures hovering in the 20s and 30’s. And it was good. You know, because “In like a lion, out like a lamb,” right? Looking forward to that!

Yeah, fast-forward to this morning, Sunday, March 30. Just as daylight was worming its way through the cracks in my eyelids I heard David mutter, “Snowing out there.” Huh? I raised myself up in a slant toward the bedroom window and squinted at the sky exploding in white.

Down to the kitchen now – I let the dog out, and back in, wiped him down with a towel. Turned on the coffee. Hey, it is gorgeous out there! I snapped a couple photos of the back yard.

Spring snow clings to even the tiniest of branches, painting the lines of the landscape with white-out.

Out front now to grab the newspaper. Oh my goodness! Here’s the view looking west out our front door.

Back in the kitchen now. Standing at the kitchen sink looking through the window. What the heck – I’ll snap a photo of our knarly old flowering plum tree here, a rather ‘long-in-tooth’ tree that’s not long for this world.

Zoom in a bit – for a different shot.

It’s Christmas!! ( No? ) It’s amusing (no it’s slothful). Our Christmas lights are still on the plum tree. I should just turn them back on! The clumps of snow accumulating on the web of tiny plum branches block out the solidness of the pine tree in the background. So the pine tree looks like a wreath perched in the middle of the plum tree. A wreath pleading for bulbous shiny ornaments and a red bow.

(And if you look carefully again you will see what looks like an upside-down human skull hanging from a limb above the wreath. Uh … not sure what that means – the ‘Hallow’s Eve’ Christmas or something.)

I need groceries. I should zip myself into a one-piece snow suit with a massive fur-trimmed hood, put on my sheepskin boots, scarf, and thick woolen mittens, hop on a reindeer and slosh on into Albertson’s. Look for hot apple cider. Track up their aisles.

The snow gets bigger and bigger.

Soon whirring sounds penetrate the air from all directions like armies of raging bees. Neighbors with snow blowers. Dang! So we will have to shovel! It’s March 30th. Why can’t we just expect this snowstorm to blow over us and melt away all in the same day?

It did stop snowing by early afternoon.

Yeah, well, I’m blogging.

David is the one shoveling.

One of these days I’ll run out of my ‘cuz it’s winter in Idaho’ excuses and get out there and get those Christmas lights off the plum tree. You know, maybe before it flowers.

Tags: March in Idaho
Posted in Idaho, Spring | 4 Comments »

‘Aloha’ Idaho’a

March 8, 2014

“Aloha …WHAT?” – “Are you kidding? I thought you were done with these endless Kauai blogs!”

Well, actually, not. As you might recall, I left off with Steph searching for her sandals as we were leaving Larsen Beach.

Which, that’s a problem with a nude beach. You wear clothes getting there, shed them on the beach – and preferably not in a trail, because you have to gather them all up again when you leave the beach. (And hopefully, you also put them back on to avoid getting arrested.)

In any case, another 24 hours passed between the time we left Larsen Beach to when we pulled into our driveway in Idaho Falls. (Does this frighten you?) My main focus on our last leg of this trip was to ’embrace the journey’ if you will. How to carry the ‘Aloha’ home to Idaho?

‘Aloha’ is the most Hawaiian word. It can mean ‘Hello’ or ‘Goodbye’. It also means ‘love’ and ‘affection’. The literal meaning of ‘Aloha’ is the ‘presence of breath.’

‘Aloha’ is sending and receiving positive energy, living in harmony –

for example, the harmony you see in nature.

‘Aloha’ was the working philosophy of Native Hawaiians and was presented as a gift to the people of Hawaii.

“Aloha means to hear what is not said, see what cannot be seen, and to know the unknowable.” Easy-peasy.

Well, all I know now is, the sun is setting on Kauai…

“Steph – take one last photo of us!”

Awwwwww. Too late for photos now. It’s time to head to the airport anyway…

Aloha Kauai! For real this time.

Fourteen hours later we are nearing the descent into Salt Lake City where David’s truck is parked.

The landscape seems surreal.

We land safely and have just climbed into David’s truck – Now we have to make the 3-hour drive home to Idaho Falls.

Eric’s riding shot-gun.

Out of no-where that fur-lined, Mad Bomber hat or whatever that thing is called, appears on his head. He travels prepared.

“BRRRRRR!!!” Is all I care to contribute to the conversation from the back seat, wincing from the sting of the frozen lining of my down jacket against my arms …

The whole Salt Lake Valley is blanketed in a thick smog. I had taken a few photos of the smog, but inadvertently deleted them, maybe a Freudian thing, especially in the spirit of carrying the ‘Aloha’ home to Idaho. The smog around Salt Lake and further north into Ogden was thick, ugly and toxic. A stark contrast to Paradise.

We were glad to drive out of the smog into Idaho.

We’re starving now, and I think it’s Malad where we decide to pull off the freeway into Burger King for a quick gut-bomb to hold us over. I capture a photo of this sign as we exit the parking lot:

Yep, we’re in Idaho, all right. Not your most ‘progressive’ state.

There sure is a dearth of snow for this time of year.

We’re not complaining. It’s just an observation. Not going to let fear or worry worm their way into our minds about potential drought or anything, either. In the spirit of ‘Aloha’ – we’re all about sending and receiving positive energy.

Within 40 miles of home we notice an abundance of frost.

‘Whore-frost.’ David explains. At least that’s what I heard from where I was in the back seat.

“WHORE-Frost? Are you serious?” (in the spirit of Aloha, you know, being conscious of the ‘presence of breath’ and all, I’m seeing the presence of whore’s breath all over the trees.)

“Yes. Whore-frost. You know, (now he spells it) “H-O-A-R-frost”

“You mean there are two spellings in the English Language of the word, “whore?” (That’s the English language for you. Unnecessarily complicated and redundant.) Looking at the landscape “whore-frost” makes complete sense to me. Why is it necessary to invent a different word for this frost, a word that sounds just like ‘whore’ but is spelled differently? Wow! Bravo!! – Look at me using the spirit of Aloha within me – hearing what is not said, seeing what cannot be seen, and knowing the unknowable. (that it’s really whorefrost.)

But, okay, in the spirit of Aloha, and maybe, too, in the spirit of American patriotism

I’ll go with ‘hoarfrost.’ (We are blowing past Blackfoot now)

I capture a video next, I guess because I knew all those trees sailing toward us at 82 mph were not going to fit in a photo:

The hoarfrost leads us all the way into Idaho Falls.

It was nice to be home. Eric is so prepared he had even left his boxed wine in David’s truck so it was chilled and ready to imbibe as soon as he got home with it.

The next week turned colder than a witch’s tit. And we were pounded by snow. We must have shoveled at least six times.

Good thing we were in such good physical shape with all those hikes we took in Kauai.

How to keep the spirit of Aloha alive? Well, I’ve just been telling myself that this:

is just the Idaho version of this:

I’m incorporating that positive energy thing, and … how does that go again? “Hearing what is not said, seeing what cannot be seen and knowing the unknowable.” Yeah. Something akin to that.

Is it spring yet?

Tags: hoarfrost, Idaho, Kauai, The meaning of 'Aloha'
Posted in Idaho, Kauai, travel | 1 Comment »

‘Aloha’ Kauai!

March 2, 2014

Saturday, January 25, 2014 – our last day in Paradise. This evening we will catch the Red-eye from Lihue – land in L.A. tomorrow morning and then travel back home to Idaho.

We’ve washed up our tennies and have to be light-weights today – no vigorous muddy hikes!

David, Eric, and I start the morning in Princeville with one last hike down to Anini beach –

Trying to stave off melancholy….

We huff our way back up again

and take one last stroll along the Princeville golf course.

Oh, how we’ll miss Kauai!

The beaches…

The exploding surf

The birds of paradise – the Albatross and Nene geese…

the ‘bird of paradise’ and last, but not least (in numbers, anyway), the mighty foul, uh, fowl.

We’ll miss all those goofy, nearly indecipherable warning signs to tourists:

(Yes, we’re very afraid.) Snow boards?

We’ll miss the police station on the road to Hanalei

with that sign out front. It imparts such a feeling of … comfort?

We’ll miss the NO-GMO movement gaining momentum in Kauai –

[

These GMO FREE signs pop up everywhere. No Genetically Modified Organisms! Have you heard of ‘Roundup ready’ crops? GMO corn, soy, sugar beets, cotton, alfalfa, and canola are designed to withstand huge applications of roundup. The same company (Monsanto) that makes the seeds also sells the herbicide (surprise, surprise). Except the weeds have adapted into super weeds which, in turn, has caused a steady increase in the use of roundup on the crops. There was a huge “March Against Monsanto” in Kauai on March 9th of this year – (check it out here). Because of the experiments taking place with pesticides and genetically engineered seeds on the west side of the island, Kauai is considered ‘ground zero’ internationally in the fight to stop these bio tech companies.

Here is a link to a you-tube video posted by a member of GMO Free Idaho(!!) entitled “Is Glyphosate Killing our Gut Flora?” You might want to watch it, especially if you or someone you care about suffers from a digestive illness or disorder. Glyphosate, the active ingredient in Roundup, is not harmless to humans, contrary to what Monsanto would have you believe.

While we’re on the subject, here’s another link to an article just published, “5 Reasons Monsanto’s Science Doesn’t Add Up” including the toxic effects of glyphosate, specifically in relation to kidney disease and failure.

I’m on a roll here!

Anyway, oh my goodness, we’ll miss the tropical hikes

Albeit, some of them kicked our butts. Bug-wise, we really only worried about close encounters with Kauai’s ferocious-looking garden spiders.

We’ll miss Eric ‘pouring on the charm’ – you know, like, when we’re out to dinner:

Okay Eric, so what’s on the agenda for this afternoon, our grand finale adventure on our last day in Kauai? How about a beach walk or something where we don’t injure ourselves or get our feet all muddy?

“Larsen’s Beach.”

“Huh?” My ears were expecting something a little more, you know, ‘Hawaiian’ sounding, like, Pu’u Poa Beach, or Po’ipu, Waipouli, Kaweonui, Kaluapuhi, Waiakalua, Kekaha, Nawiliwili … this being Kauai and all.

“You’re kidding. Larsen’s Beach?”

“Yep. At Larsen’s Beach there’s a nice walking trail that runs parallel to the beach.”

It’s early afternoon by now. We all pile into the car: David, Eric, Steph, Vic, and I. David is driving, Eric is navigating. After several wrong turns, Victor and I are scoping out the route to Larsen Beach on our i-Phones. Mostly out of a process of elimination we hang a left on this dirt road (this has to be it!) and drive till it ends – at this sign:

Yeah, we know, we know. Deadly unseen currents, the whole nine yards. We’ve found Larsen’s Beach.

It extends along the shoreline below.

We spot the trailhead and hike the trail through the grassy area to the end of the beach.

Wow! There’s even a picnic table. We pile around…

Surely Eric has beer in his back pack. We’ll know to bring a picnic next time. Hey, too bad we didn’t wear our bathing suits – we could’ve waded in the ocean one last time.

You know, like that guy.

Huh? … Hey, wait a minute, he’s naked!

I zoom my camera in a little, you know, to make sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me…

Well, he’s not completely naked. Did you notice his cap? See any tan lines? His vitamin D level must be sky-high. Yeah, like I’m going to go up and ask him…

“Eric, you rascal, you led us to a nude beach!”

“Yeah, and have you noticed that young nude couple over there near those bushes?”

“No, Eric, not particularly. Not until you pointed them out…”

Walking back out, Steph couldn’t remember where she had shed her sandals. That’s the extent of the clothing that came off of us.

Well, all I can say is, while vacationing in Kauai, you can learn a lot. And you will likely check some things off your bucket list.

You might even check some things off that weren’t on your bucket list.

Especially with Eric along.

Tags: Albatross, Annini Beach, Glyphosate, GMO Free Idaho, GMO Free Kauai, Kauai, Larsen Beach, March 2014 Kauai March against Monsanto, Nene Goose, Princeville
Posted in Kauai, travel | Leave a Comment »