Kodiak Alaska

Read this doc on Scribd: ALASKA 2002 Kodiak

Comments on Amazon's Kindle

My "Kindle"

Displaying a W J Bryan paper downloaded free

from the "Gutenberg" project

Following from my natural inclination towards technologies that improve my experience with work or play, you would not be surprised that I have one of the current "e-book" readers. This time, Barbara beat me to the punch and gave it to me as a birthday present this winter. I have since been using it almost every day, on occasion for several hours.

On the last few airline trips I have read from the Kindle before, during and between flights, and I have been interrupted (I don't mind) a number of times by inquisitive fellow travelers. Answering their questions led me to formulate some observations and opinions on what I have found to be a pretty nice product.

What do I use it for?

Books: (a) purchased from Amazon, and (b) downloaded free from sites such as the Gutenberg project

Periodicals: The Wall Street Journal

Other: i.e. PDFs from several sources, including financial reports and medical articles.

How does it work?

The technology is pretty neat. The display is a technology called "ink" that is reflective (not back lit) and draws minimal power from the batteries. It is connected to Amazon by the Sprint cell network, though I could also directly load content from my PC. It has the ability for MP3 music and audio books, though these I have not used yet (I still take my iPod). It will accept a standard SD memory card, but at this point I am still using <2%> of the on board memory.

Of all the reviews I have seen, click here to see the one with which I find myself most in agreement. If interested in the Kindle, you should check this link, since it says a lot of what I would have otherwise written in this post.

PROS:

1. Big selection of books available from Amazon, including most best-sellers, and at a significant discount (i.e. James Patterson's new book, 7th Heaven is $27 list, $16.97 + shipping Amazon discount price, and $9.99 with no shipping for the Kindle)

2. Ergonomic / user-friendly

3. LONG battery life. Unless I turn on the wireless, I can read for hours every day for weeks on end without recharging.

4. I can send my own books, articles, etc as a PDF to my Kindle (as an attachment on email sent to my Kindle email address) for the standard text-message charge of 10 cents.

5. I can have the newspaper or magazine delivered in seconds, no matter if I am at home or traveling (and even though I can subscribe to the electronic edition of most periodicals for computer-viewing, the Kindle version is cheaper and I can read it on the patio, at the airline gate, or anywhere else I have the time.)

6. The display is easily readable; the brighter the light, the better.

7. In a package the size of a medium format paperback, I can travel with dozens, actually hundreds, of books readily at hand.

CONS:

1. Many of the non-fiction books or older books I tend to read are not available for the Kindle.

2. The cost is still relatively high at $399.

3. Some of the graphical content for the WSJ does not come across on the Kindle.

4. Though not a major problem, the Kindle text conversion occasionally drops a letter from a word.

5. The screen is really not B & W, but black on light grey, and it can catch some glare in some situations. The contrast is not quite as good as a good-quality printed book. It it still very readable (except in the dark).

6. The "next page" bar on the right side should be 1/2 the length, allowing one to hold that side of the device without advancing the pages.

SUMMARY: I like it, and use it all the time, but half my reading is still from printed books.

Anza-Borrego: Another Desert Garden Tour

Like my last blog on Joshua Tree, this is another post mainly consisting of pictures. Just haven't had anything to share (publicly at least) for a few days.

Last Monday, Barbara and I loaded the Jeep with cameras, binoculars, Leki hiking sticks, a picnic lunch and jumped in with Pip for a day outing to Anza Borrego State Park. This park is entirely desert, but in the spring, with just a little rain, it turns into a carpet of wildflowers in many places. It is about an hour west of the San Diego suburbs.
We headed south out of the Coachella valley on hwy 86 through the desert west of the Salton Sea, then over to the town of Borrego Springs on S-22 and then out of the town still on 22 up into the mountains where we connected with Hwy 79 going north. We then took Hwy 341 east to catch Hwy 74 back down into Palm Desert. At a fairly leisurely pace, and with lots of stopping, we did this tour in about 8 hours.

(Left-Click to enlarge this and other photos)
(Above) The town of Borrego Springs is nestled up against the mountains and almost completely surrounded by the Anza Borrego State Park. You will find no Holiday Inns, etc here, but there are a number of local hotels and resorts. Be aware that the Borrego Springs Inn has, I believe, one of its pools "swim suit optional." There are no stoplights, but in the center of this giant traffic circle in the middle of town there is a most pleasant local park with lots of grass and picnic tables. There are orchards north of town, with good produce stands at several locations. One local restaurant advertises its "dog friendly" patio seating. This is probably like what Palm Springs was in the early 1900's, few people and no traffic at all. It's isolated, but a nice oasis for the desert traveler.

Around the town are several housing areas with lots of space. The best wildflowers we found in this area were in such a private development.

The Ocatillo, one of our favorite cacti, were just coming into bloom, but their full deep red flowers had not yet fully developed on most of them.

After leaving Borrego Springs and climbing the S-22 switchbacks up from Borrego Springs, we encountered the grass-covered hills and the trees as a nice change from the desert floor.

The 1858 Oak Grove Butterfield Station pictured above is a simple one story adobe building surrounded by ancient oak trees. The Butterfield Overland Mail operated from 1858 to 1861 on this route between San Francisco and St. Louis, Missouri - Memphis, Tennessee. The Oak Grove Butterfield Station is a rare remaining original example of a stage route station. The two routes (St. Louis and Memphis) converged at Fort Smith, Arkansas, dropped into Texas, extended across the southwest to Los Angeles, and then north through the San Joaquin Valley to San Francisco. It took about 25 days for a letter to reach its destination. The Civil War interrupted operations in 1861.

As we traveled north on 79, we encountered hills and valleys covered with poppies, the California state flower. These are ubiquitous to the state, but when in this profusion are striking in their color and pattern.


Just north of Warner Springs, there is the missionary Saint Francis Chapel (exterior above, interior below). This 1830 structure sits in eastern San Diego County, the location of the historic Warner Ranch (still an active ranch, but now also operating a notable spa).

As we crossed back to hwy 74 and started the switchback back down into the Coachella valley, we stopped for a moment to take in a view of Rancho Mirage, Palm Desert, and Indian Wells. It was a nice day.

Joshua Tree National Monument

Joshua Tree National Monument spreads across mountain desert northeast of the Coachella Valley (Palm Springs, Palm Desert, etc). Last Friday Bill Fritz and I made the drive through the Monument, mainly to view the desert spring flowers which were scheduled to be in full bloom after a wet (for this area) winter. JTNM (link) is a great place for seeing wildflowers in March, blooming Cacti in April and May, and some really, really big rocks year round. It has some excellent campgrounds, and would be a nice place for star-gazing, but take a tent or small RV.

All of the pictures can be enlarged with a left-click

This is a 3o+ ft high Joshua tree with early blooms (they are huge!) at the top.

The flowers were found mainly on the south entrance to the park.
Full bloom as advertised!

The park is full of huge piles of boulders; those above reach up to 200'
(click to enlarge)

These piles began as solid layers of rock, with fracture lines scattered within them.
Over time, moisture and organisms enlarged the fracture/fault lines, and eventually the rocks separated and fell into piles as we see today.

We brought our lunch and enjoyed a sunny picnic table among the rocks.

This was the backdrop for our meal. The silence was deafening after weeks in town.

The Cholla garden is quite a site, and dangerous. (Click to enlarge)
A young woman was taking pictures and stepped back into one of these, with the barbed spines going right through her clothing and into her skin. Several good Samaritans with pliers removed the barbs, but not the inflammation and pain. Here is a link to a very nice photographic essay on this group of cholla.

Flashback

I was cleaning up some old files and came across a bit of a travel document from 10 years ago. I was riding part way to California with Matt (John M) the summer he was headed to Berkley to test the planning waters with some courses there. We had done a trip to Ireland when he graduated from high school, but he was older for this trip, and it was different. I don't seem to be able to find any pictures (a shame), but here is the original commentary I wrote after that trip; remember it was written a decade ago:

Trip with Matt, 1998

Hi. I’ve been on the road for a while and haven’t answered any e-mail for a while. Matt was heading to Berkeley for the summer semester and he asked me if I would drive out with him. I couldn’t take the whole trip, but we did part of it together.

We started with a short drive over to Des Moines where Barbara had the RV for a horse show. We watched one of our horses in an event and then split, with Barbara taking the RV back to CR and Matt and I heading to the southwest. We initially stopped at the Cowboy museum at Kansas City. It’s quite a showplace of western art, plus a few artifacts. The original “End of the Trail” statue is there . . . . much bigger than we had envisioned it. Well worth the stop.

We stopped at Waurika, OK to visit my Mom. She and one of my uncles showed us around 3 places where Matt’s Great Grandparents farmed in that area. I also showed Matt where one of my cousins and I hunted and fished (and pulled a few stupid tricks) during our family’s summer visits. We also visited my grandparents’ and father’s graves before we left. Seven siblings from my mom’s family have regathered in this tiny Oklahoma town later in life . . it’s nice for them all.

We then headed across west Texas. Passed miles and miles of the 6666 ranch, as well as the main ranch house and airport. In Benjamin, TX, a tiny, isolated town, the 2-story jail had been converted into a “neat” private home. We arrived in Spur in the afternoon, a place of 1500 souls where most of my determining characteristics were developed. Stood in front of the Palace Theater where I started by passing out flyers and ended up a projectionist while still in Junior High. At Kally’s garage, the old gasoline pump (with the glass tank on top that you pump the gas into before filling the car tank by gravity) was still there, though no longer used. I had helped my father fill the car from that tank 40 years ago . . . it was quite nostalgic for me all in all. I used to work at the drive-in theater as well in the summer. A farmer has removed most evidence of it, but the concrete pad for the projection booth and snack bar are still there; converted into a basketball court. The theater was 5 miles from Spur. In summer another employee and I would close down at midnight or so and walk another 5 miles to Dickens and eat hamburgers at an all night Shamrock truck stop. Then we would walk 10 miles back to Spur, sometimes greeting the dawn as we waked up the hill back to town.. Really different times! The Shamrock truck stop is now just an empty building and weed-littered lot; it seems so small compared to my memory. Just off this road was soldier’s mound, a small butte used as a defensive position by the calvary in the 1800’s. When 11 or 12 years old I used to disappear from home at sunrise on a Saturday morning, hike Duck Creek for 10 miles or so to the foot of soldier’s mound and pick up arrowheads. The freedom and the expanse of the open sky are something few children in this country get to experience any more . . . it’s a little sad . . Matt was impressed by the uniqueness of this little village; in retrospect, so am I.

As we drove to Slaton, the desert was covered with green and with blooming flowers and cacti as I have never seen ( or at least as I don’t remember). Slaton, Texas, where I graduated from High School, seemed plain in comparison to Spur. The most memorable site for me, the Farmer’s and Merchant’s club (pool hall), was gone, so there wasn’t much to show Matt. It was also perfectly flat which added to the overall impression of drabness. I couldn’t even find my old girl friend’s houses, so we left and drove up the road to Lubbock for the night.

We dove to Ft Summer, NM and visited Wm. Bonne’s grave (Billy the Kid), through a lovely valley to a small village called Puerto de Luna (gate of the moon), where Billy hung out with pals, then into Las Vegas (New Mexico). Las Vegas is quite interesting; a very rich town, then essentially abandoned, and now undergoing somewhat of a rediscovery. We then stopped at a winery in a beautiful little valley. The vineyard owner/field worker/winemaker/proprietor was an engineer from Roswell and had dropped out to work his small acreage and make wines 20 years ago. He greeted us and poured rapid fire tastings of particularly awful wines in devastating sequence (dry red, Muscat, rose, etc.) A particularly obnoxious wine he had named Flying Saucer Wine. The Muscat was OK, so I bought a bottle in gratitude for the entertainment and display of an alternative lifestyle.

We hit Santa Fe in the evening and had dinner at the Shed, a restaurant with a somewhat unique menu just off the old plaza . . . excellent! The next morning we had a walking tour of old Santa Fe with another engineer drop-out, but it was still a great tour. We spent the rest of the day touring on our own, and then drove to Cuba.

Cuba is a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. We used it mainly as a place to sleep that was close to Chaco Canyon National Historic Site (which actually is at nowhere). The motel was operated by a Mexican proprietor who was really a nice man. So nice in fact, that he mowed the tall grass behind this motel so the Navajos who were in town and had a bit too much to drink could sleep that night. They did; in fact they were sleeping right under the window at the back of our room!

Even with this head start, we still had another 2-3 hour drive to the Chaco Canyon site.

Description of Chaco Canyon defies words. Incredible open spaces, stone houses that were up to 5 stories tall and had as many as 500 rooms , Kivas more than 50’ in diameter, dramatic pictographs (you had to climb a bit), and a “sundial” that marked the fall/spring equinox and winter/summer solstice were a few of the remnants of the Anasazi culture that remains there. A great day! Visit if you get the chance, but beware of the road to get there. A pickup is the best option.

We made it to Albuquerque that night. Visited the UNM campus the next morning. Nice. We visited the Maxwell (?) museum of anthropology and lost all track of time. Old town was a collection of tourist traps in the old buildings of the town, but still kind of neat. Matt bought a small metal “Kokopelli” (flute player from a stone pictograph) that now hangs from his rear-view mirror. We also went to see The 5^th Element, a Bruce Willis movie at the Rio-24, a 24-screen movie theater. THX, surround sound, and almost vertical seating all added to the experience; a great way to see a movie!

The next morning we had breakfast together and Matt dropped me off at the airport, and I flew back to Cedar Rapids while he drove on to California. It was a wonderful trip. I think we have arrived at the point where we can interact as friends, and this supersedes (while not eliminating) the parent-child relationship. We talked politics and philosophy and discussed the NPR newscast as we crossed the country, and really never felt the need to artificially fill the time during the long drives. While still my son and in school, this person is now more man than child. He has failings here and there, but he knows also do I. We don’t agree on everything, and that is as it should be. There was a kind of “completeness” at the end of this trip . . a new plateau has been reached.

I'm usually not a poetry reader, but . . .

I recently was browsing and came across a reference to A. E. Housman, an English poet to whom many of you have been exposed, but perhaps not knowingly. I downloaded a copy of his poems (wireless via my Kindle); his complete works are brief.

Housman was first and foremost a classical Latin scholar, with poetry a sideline. He was also a religious skeptic and a closeted homosexual. He did not write/publish a great volume of poetry, and his poems are often melancholic and reflective of death, but also rejoice youth and love and speak to the urgency of life. His first published work was A Shropshire Lad, printed initially in 1894.

I read his complete works in a day. Some were straightforward. Many I had to read twice, and there are a couple that I still need to research a bit.

Here are some of Housman's poems you might be familiar with:

When I was one-and-twenty

  I heard a wise man say,

`Give crowns and pounds and guineas

  But not your heart away;

Give pearls away and rubies

  But keep your fancy free.'

But I was one-and-twenty

  No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty

  I heard him say again,

`The heart out of the bosom

  Was never given in vain;

'Tis paid with sighs a plenty

  And sold for endless rue.'

And I am two-and-twenty

  And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.

You probably know this one if you read or saw “Out of Africa”

The time you won your town the race

We chaired you through the market-place;

Man and boy stood cheering by,

And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,

Shoulder-high we bring you home,

And set you at your threshold down,

Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away

From fields where glory does not stay,

And early though the laurel grows

It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut

Cannot see the record cut,

And silence sounds no worse than cheers

After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout

Of lads that wore their honours out,

Runners whom renown outran

And the name died before the man.

So set, before the echoes fade,

The fleet foot on the sill of shade,

And hold to the low lintel up

The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head

Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,

And find unwithered on its curls

The garland briefer than a girl's.

And of course:

Home is the sailor, home from sea:

  Her far-borne canvas furled

The ship pours shining on the quay

  The plunder of the world.

Home is the hunter from the hill:

  Fast in the boundless snare

All flesh lies taken at his will

  And every fowl of air.

'Tis evening on the moorland free,

  The starlit wave is still:

Home is the sailor from the sea,

  The hunter from the hill.

Our New Home!

Our new home! Well, it’s a condo. Ok, so I just bought a driveway.

We lost our spot in our favorite RV resort in the Coachella valley to the condo-builders a couple of years ago, and I decided to take an opportunity to nail down a place to stay there during the winter. Outdoor Resorts Palm Springs is a 1200+ site RV condominium resort with security gates and beautiful grounds. All of the sites are privately owned, though at any given time about 1/3 of them are rented. It’s strictly RVs, no buildings or “mobile” homes of any type.

This year will be a test. If we like the resort and the people, we will keep coming back. If not, we will either sell the pad or rent it out. So far it’s working out. The location is better in some ways then our old site, but not as convenient for some other things. Our neighbors are good to really nice. No water aerobics program is a big downer for Barbara, but there’s a lot more in the valley to keep her occupied in the meantime.

When I get old (I refuse to acknowledge 62 as “old”), retired, and unwilling to guide a 15 ton bus down the road, then we may do something more permanent. In the meantime we can use our RV for trips like the one to Oregon (see previous post on this blog) in the spring, summer or fall, and still come to the desert for winter.

Like a dry martini . . .

Like a dry martini, a dry wash can sneak up on you.

Though we made it out of Iowa and set up shop in Arizona it did not mean that we had escaped weather problems.

As a good location for us to visit daughters and friends, Catalina State Park, a few miles north of Tucson, works well. It has a new RV campground (50amp and water plus 2 dump stations) that is as good as any we have ever visited, and the park itself is wonderful. It is tucked up against the Catalina foothills and is mainly a hiking park, with mountain, birding, and nature walks. See Barbara emulating a Saguaro cactus?

The park is accessible only through a single road, that crosses several dry washes. When we checked in, we were aware that these can be closed off if there is a big rain (unusual in Winter; more commonly in the summer.) After a few days, I returned to CR to work, and flew back on a Sunday. When we drove into the park it was raining lightly and the wash was wet, but no flowing water. That night there was 8+ inches of rain up in the Catalina mountains, and by the time we got up the next morning the “dry” wash was a fast flowing river more than 50 yards wide. It took two days for the water to go down, and it left about 4’ of silt across the wash. By 9:30 the 3^rd day, they were able to bring in a large earth mover to clear the road for the expected mass exodus (which there was).

The delay for us was only 24 hrs, but we were separated from family, friends, stores, and, OH NO!, the internet. It was actually a good exercise in separation from the usual trappings of modern society; no cars trips, no shopping, no internet (but of course, the cell phone still worked). We walked the nature trail, we read (books plus I still had the Wall Street Journal delivered daily to my Kindle). We also had drinks and meals with newly-made friends Jim and Cathie Del Carlo who, like us, were also trapped in the park. Pip of course had a great time exploring new territory and chasing (but thankfully not catching) a skunk.

Will post this when I get an internet connection!