Posts

Raining Sunday Morning

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Raining again this weekend, the desert is not at all the way I remember it. I wonder if the climate change is affecting this part of the planet by providing more moisture. There is a plant that I call Grease Wood that when the the land is parched would be the only thing growing. It would look very thirsty, but refuse to die. when the rains would finally come to the drought, the Grease Wood would perk up, turn leaves green and make the air smell good. Now a days, it seems to me, that the Grease Wood is competing with weeds and grasses and such for space, all looking very happy. Maybe I moved from the Texas Hill Country in time to see the greening of the desert. It may be hard for you to see the writing on the sign, but it says that is my reserved parking space. Located at the Dona Ana County Assessor's office, inside the archives and records vault, some of the guys cleaned out an space, parked my bike, and put up a sign. I think the intentions were both in jest as well as a nice wel...

Vicarious Pedal

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Two friends of mine, Jon & Jeff, ex co-workers, fellow cycle fiends, GIS experts, are riding their new Surly Long Haul Truckers through the mountains and desert lands of West Texas this week. They plan to begin their journey in Alpine and wind their way through the country that leads to Balmoreah, then back to Alpine with alternate routes in mind. The Long Haul Trucker is a great looking bicycle.I am sure Jon & Jeff are going to have a great time. I will be living vicariously through their trip, hopefully I will get some updates as they go. It just so happens, Marcy, me and the kids are going to Fort Davis this weekend to try to see another Star Party at the McDonald Observatory. The last time we went it was too cloudy to see stars outside, so they gave us an inside show with slides. Saturday afternoon starts the new moon phase, if there are no clouds the night should be pitch dark with stars shining so brightly it seems you can reach up and touch them. Fingers crossed. All tha...

Something In The Air

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This flower makes a great landscape item to have around this high desert. I am not sure what it's called but it defies the blistering sun and heat. At lunch each day I walk next to this farm and have come across a pair of burrowing owls. I may have mentioned that already. This guy, finally let me take a picture of him. Maybe tomorrow I can get a little closer. The ride in today was especially nice because of the cool temperature and bit of a tail breeze. Yesterday coming home from work I had to deal with a bit of a headwind making for a nice workout, but got me behind schedule with family. We went to a grand opening of a place called Bahama Buck's, a kind of smoothie type place. Good stuff, try it if there is one in your neighborhood. The presidential race environment is picking up in fervor with the Democratic Convention going on. Tonight Hillary gives a key note speech, I am looking forward to watching that.

Cotton Picking Ride

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I grew up in a valley, carved out of the desert by the Rio Grande. The beginnings of this river start somewhere near Silverton Colorado, works its way south through New Mexico, meanders through what is now the international border between Texas and Mexico, finally dumping itself into the Gulf of Mexico around Brownsville and Matamoros. There was a time when the big river flowed robustly, water carrying collected sediment to its mouth for deposit. Nowadays, maybe for the past couple of hundred years or so, maybe not that long, a mere trickle would be lucky to reach the gulf. This valley, the Rio Grande Valley has fertile soil for farming; the only thing it really needs is water. Irrigation is the answer for that All I know is that in the early and middle 1950’s there was an irrigation ditch behind our large lot that provided wonderful brown water for thirsty crops and yards. A place to play, when the gates were first opened it was a thrill to see what was coming with the shallow waters,...

FacePhalt

I remembered today on my ride in about an incident that occured when I was about 8 or 9 years old. I was riding on the handle bars of Warner's bike. Warner gave me stern warnings well in advance about keeping my feet away from the spokes as we rode home on at that time was nearly a country road. I thought I was taking heed, but one bump caused my foot to get right into the spokes and when the ankle met the fork, it was end over time and down to the ground I went smashing my face onto the pavement. A couple of cars saw it and stopped to offer help and see if I was alright. One side of my face was one big scab for awhile, but I was alright. I don't think I ever rode on the handle bars again after that. I chose a new route to ride to work this week, which takes me through the middle of farming country rather than on the outside of it. The corn stalks are at least 7 feet high, the cotton about 4 feet, and one red chili field looks ready to harvest. I did pass a large green combine ...

Camel Baks Are A Good Thing

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I went Mountain Biking for the first time this past Saturday, on the invite of my new Director who belongs to a club of sorts. I used his cool bike, a very nice one indeed. I forgot the name of it, but it was a nice one with 29" wheels. Being the total beginner, I had some gnarly crashes but am alive to talk about it. I landed on my Camel Bak a couple of times, it makes a great cushion against the rocks. If not for hydration, it served well for protection. Not far from the start was a monument set by the Bureau of Land Management, a location point for surveyors and GIS nerds like me. The trails were rough because of the recent rains and high temps. There is a plant that I had not heard of before called the White Thorn, a bush I now know pretty well. the trails were canopied by this pesky, but attractive plan, just high enough to scratch you up well from the kneecap down. I am wearing them two day old scratches on my legs like a badge of honor. When the clouds decide to form, they ...

Dodging Thorns Up

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As I was getting out of the lush pecan farm area of the county and getting closer to urban civilization, I came upon this relaxed commuter. I followed him awhile, then went around to the left saying, "Howdy, going to work?" "Oh yeah, well gotta work round here." "I know that's right", I say and then went on ahead. I wonder if I will see him again? I suppose because of all the yellow flowers I spoke about, there is a large population of caterpillars racing to and fro. With a thorn on the rear, the move their little feet very fast making themselves move very quickly. The road is littered with caterpillar fatalities. One will be going eastward across the highway, while another will be scurrying westward. I think if they could communicate and all stay on their individual side of the road they came from, there would be a substantially larger survival rate. I am thinking that these critters are planning on being moths someday.