The third in as many weeks. It must be all the rain.
The first was on the road to the Barker Wilderness. It had eight, count 'em, rattles and when encouraged to move from the road, it took umbrage. I gave up when it showed it was NOT gonna leave and furthermore what WAS it with the dead leaves on the end of the limb?
The second, like the 1st, was languidly ensconced, full length in the middle of the road. After remonstrating around its peril and getting nought but a gimlet eye, I left. I heard it mutter, "Don't let the door hit yuh, budzo."
This one understood but made it clear that it would not be hurried; I got back in the car.
The sign at the bottom said: Not Suitable For Passenger Cars. Tacked underneath was another: Road Washed Out.
But they - long ago - lost all credibility. In 2010 the same signs were posted at the ends of the Quebradas Backcountry Byway. As I mentioned in my post then, yer muddrz Cadillac wouldn't even have whimpered. The Schvoog, shod with snowtires, scampered up the hill flicking his tredz disdainfully and humming a tune to the words: Bring it On!
A splendid day! After locking horns with Grace Zamora about what I was doing on HER grazing allotment, I went into Magdalena where, stopping for an espresso, I got a tour of Studio 605.
Glen Bigelow was born 500 miles northwest of Toronto. His dad moved a lot and they soon were in California. Then to Switzerland, Germany, Hong Kong and back to Switzerland where he worked for 20 years. He has citizenship in three countries and seven movable-type printing presses. At first he was willing to let me photograph, but it got too late. You'll have to go see for yourself.
Down the street, the sign for the library pointed into a parking lot. Richard Torres was coming out and when I asked if this was where the library was...or is, he couldn't hear. After getting out of our vehicles and closing quarters, one thing led to another and I got a grand tour of the bank building he bought in 1969 when he came back from Viet Nam. Built in 1895 it was gutted by fire several years ago and he's rebuilt it completely. At age 76 he looks barely over 40! He attributes his youthful appearance to work. A heart attack and bypass surgery ten years ago has slowed him down, but he puts in a full day...albeit with a bit less heavy lifting. Eager to get to the library I didn't take photos. The bank -- now a gallery and gift shop, Richard's office and an apartment -- is on the corner of highway 60 and the street to the library. It's an interestingly designed brick building worth stopping to admire.
Exiting the library I noticed a forest road. I'd heard rumors of one that went north into the mountains and further. The map showed it going through Riley then east through Sevellita Wildlife Refuge then connecting with interstate 25. It looked like a plan until....
On my way back I stopped to chat with the road-grader operator. He said the road was completely washed out at the big arroyo at Riley; he couldn't get through in his 4 x 4 pickup. And thus, we got back on highway 60 and headed west.
A chief delight of traveling is watching the synergies unfold.
Looking for books in Cows Against Violence (scroll down to see their t-shirt) thrift store in Taos, I struck up a conversation with Katherine. She commended Jay's Unique Thrift in Questa saying she'd found some good things there.
A few days later, taking the magic circle through Eagle Nest, Angel Fire and Questa, I found, at Jay's, six books for $4.00 including Last Night's Fun by Ciaran Carson. The price for a new copy of Last Night's Fun is $877.95. I love the ninety-five cents.
I too sold things that were arbitrarily priced. But anybody can put a price; it's another to find a buyer.
Published in 1996, my copy is like new, but is marred by a dedication. In March of '97, Ephraim, with love, exhorted someone to enjoy Spring Break.
In the first few pages Carson mentions Joe Cooley (link is to bio on Allmusic.com) and how MacMahon (link is to Wiki) riffed on Cooley. I had good signal this evening and looked 'em up. One thing led to another...you know how it is with surfing. Herewith is the trail.
Last Night's Fun
Carson writes about how Tony MacMahon (Carson's spelling) was influenced by Cooley and how Tony developed his style partly based on his admiration for Cooley.
(for some reason I can't get the video to embed, thus the link instead.)
One of the reels sounds like Last Night's fun.
A bit farther on was this...
Searching for more about McMahon, I came upon this 30-minute video.
In it I was impressed, at 13:17, with Piadar O Riarda's playing. If you listen to the tune in the Dublin video, I think it's the same as the one below.
And now I'm starting a new circle; with almost a full moon, a bright star and some beautiful clouds and the most verdant hills I've ever seen in this part of the world; it's obviously been raining.
Rito de la Olla is a little stream not far from Taos. The area is rife with water; some cleaner than others. This was too cloudy to see through. And not a single mosquito...suspicious.
As you can see, it was leaking quite a bit so there was some question about whether the residents were still in residence.
Between the Boy Scouts of America's Philmont Ranch and the Chase Ranch, there's a stranglehold on the land around Cimarron, New Mexico. Both ranches are posted to the opening of the orifice.
After a pleasant but disappointing conversation with Katie, the wrangler, I gave up on visiting the Barker Wilderness. She REALLY didn't want me to go through the Philmont Ranch property. "Four water crossings," she said. "One knee deep. We do it with the ranch truck, but I doubt your car can." She suggested I go back, past the Philmont property sign, and camp on the Chase Ranch property. But, she allowed, she probably wasn't the best person to ask about where to camp.
Neither Katie nor did anyone at the Chase Ranch know when the valley had last had cattle on it. Judging by the vegetation along the stream, it looked like it'd been a while.
So rarely seen, at least out west, I was prompted to take the video.
Phoebe's been in the shop for over three weeks. After a week in a duplex -- rented with hopeful optimism of her quick rejuvenation -- that ended after a night of post-fourth-of-July revelry I moved into Schvoogie; Michelle, thinks he looks like a house slipper.
Every evening I unbolt the passenger seat so I have room to stretch out. I'd remove it completely but can't figure out how to get it loose from the seatbelt.
"The High Road to Taos" -- as it's known -- is one of New Mexico's most lush. There're streams in many of the canyons and the mixed conifer forest combined with the afternoon "monsoons," make for a mushroom hunters delight.
Of course, it's camped to the hilt. And, unfortunately, there're cows and sheep.
The cowshit reeks and breeds flies. Psilocybin likes cowshit too, but that luck eluded.
In the Duck Creek area doing Lahontan Trout habitat assessment for Western Watersheds Project, Karen noticed her tire going flat. Being near Ely, she went there.
I may have to admit I'm recovering. I text my camp coordinates to Michelle whenever I can, but today I walked (not quuuuuiiite a hike) from the east parking lot to the dargah (shrine) over/around Sam Lewis' grave.
I took some acid around 10:30 and pulled into a platz soon thereafter.
I'd a whole LIST of things to do and see, but The CATS were foremost. Scouring the junk pile I found a length of rope I thought to maybe trade with the shop foreman for some string.
There was a young woman working with an orbital sander who didn't know where the string was. But it wasn't long afore hit showed hitse'f.
No foreman so I just left the rope on the pile of others.
Only two of The Cats were around. (see prev post) One showed me the empty bowls. I had to admit it looked as if it'd been at least three weeks since it'd eaten, but the other was quite rounded so it was hard to believe the first. We played awhile and after bantering with Alex a bit, I strolled on.
Sam Lewis lies here,
but as far as I know he told the truth.
(it's the acid...I couldn't pass it up!)
The Pattern Caster
Columns from India
Hand-carved Corbels
Stuffed back in amongst the scrub oak, next to the splitting log was an olde Sam.
But the cats didn't care. They're Cats!
I locked myself out. Usually, when circumstances arise, I make coffee. I stopped coffee a couple of months ago so there was nothing for it but to just sit down. After a bit I found a length of aluminum tubing with which, once bent, I was able to work through the slightly open window and push the unlock button. Kidneys, maaaan!
In November of 2010 Jozien rode the bus down from Whitehorse (YT). Somewhere in Washington or Oregon, another passenger had a seizure. Fortunately, all Canadians are trained in CPR and she was able to save the woman.
Jozien's been meditating for decades and knew of the Lama Foundation. It's where Ram Dass wrote Be Here Now. We arrived after dark and exploring, stepped into a small group that, as we were to learn, was holding a grieving ceremony. Discovering our faux pas, we settled in. At some point I felt it appropriate to teach the eight or ten participants Cat Odor Review. Fortunately, it went over well and lightened the mood a little.
The bell at the top of the flags sounded as I came near. Like a cat it refused to perform after I got my camera out.
This is what a meadow looks like when it's NOT been grazed by livestock.
Up the hill was this post & beam architecture.
Farther up, inside the building, is Sam Lewis's (founder) grave.
Paolo said they don't have a teacher or guru, it's now more of an intentional community. There is a strong arts dimension with a number of musicians, painters, dancers and at least one performance artist.
Billy came along and gave me a tour.
I was shown the wash room, for clothes, the greenhouse, sauna (wood-fired), the shower (solar heated), library (very cozy)
Library
Another bit of architectural interest. Nate leant his presence for scale
And then there were The Caaaaaaats!!!
As we stepped onto the balcony, a nice rain came. Alas, there was no banana tree to dance around; it was a tad cool anyway, there at 8600'.
I wasn't doing so good at 8700 ft elevation so dropped down into the Los Alamos library at 7600'.
The Friends of the Library have a strong presence, but they want top dollar & they close at 4 p.m. I arrived at 4:10. There's a fine selection of free books in the lobby. I'll return tomorrow.
I had an intense 3-hour session yesterday with Charey Fox (4th from top), founder of Together Source. We've been working together for several years and I continue to be amazed at her ever-deepening skills and ability to enlighten.
I'm in a house that Charey owns and when we've interacted noticed she's seemed preoccupied. Today she showed me a video of her former husband saying goodbye -- from his bed -- to his loved ones. He will "leave us" day after tomorrow. A month ago he was fine but then, suddenly, didn't feel well. It got worse and recently he was diagnosed with Mad Cow Disease. It wasn't clear whether he has classic CJD or vCJD; both are fatal.
Three things come to mind when I go to town: laundry, art and a brothel. I've only been here a few days so am just getting around to the laundry. Who would've guessed Ti-Dee
Above the Competition
Why do so many of our customers drive past other laundromats to bring their laundry here? "It is always clean" and "your attendants are truly helpful" are comments we hear all of the time. Find out for yourself what others already know!
would turn out to be a haven, though the owner said the brothel, down the way, had closed.
While waiting, ah wentz tuh Walmartz (R u parked in the TWidget aisle,
the twidget aisle, the twidget aisle? to the tune of: Have u Seen the Muffin Man) to get some sunglasses and found these marked down to $2.50. Not being a fan of even make-believe war, I've disdained camo, but never let it be said I won't compromise my aesthetic.
