Phoebe's Air Filter

It's aggravating having no one to blame but myself. Phoebe's been coughing at startup and sometimes stalled after being on the freeway. For reasons unknown I didn't check her maintenance log, but *knew* her air filter needed attention. Today I got to it. I bought a can of compressed air specifically for this, but it only helped a little. I'll replace it as soon as I can.

I'm guess I'm gonna have tuh put a screen over the intake. Dang mice!

Scattered Thundershowers

The mornings are cool, perfect for getting oot and aboot.

The wind starts to ome up around 11:00 and continues on & off until 6 or 7 wjen the thunder heads build up.

Enogh came down to collect in the creases of the tarp, but the ground is dry.

The Goat Lady

On my way to Lovelock Cave I noticed some goats that looked different. I went to the ranch and met Carl and Gloria, The Goat Lady. The breed is called Boar; it's known for the meat.

It's against the law to sell meat that's not USDA approved, but you can give it away.

My guess is there's about 7 pds here. Without refigeration I have my work cut out for me.

10:47 am Monday: I'm in Paleo heaven. I started with the two chops which're mostly fat. I heated 'em to temperature and took them off; I like meat rare. The first had me using both hands and chewing sideways. The flavor is out of this world! The second was the opposite; tender, melting on the tongue...delicate, refined and equally OMG! Real food!

The fat, unmanageable until cooked into submission, is taught manners by being subjected to heat until,

it finally, grudgingly, consents to the knife whereupon it's cut into pieces and deep-fried in its own grease.

The result is something lost to America's fascination with cholesterol but is, for me, worth the heart attack.

The rendered fat gets saved to use in making Canadian Boy Scouts bannock.

Resistol, Meds & Reflection

The afternoon thundershowers are pretty regular.

Up 'til now I've put the cooler, folding table and settee together to make a platform for the luggage. After covering, I used the water jugs to hold the plastic in place.

When Marina suggested this idea I thought it'd be too hard. But, at least this time, the wind blew it out perfectly over everything. Camp shoes wedged underneath will hold the front.

Resistol is the brand-name of the hat. The green and white box are two times a day and the blue box are once a day. My reflection in the window of the open door.

We're just down the way from Lovelock Cave, Nevada.

The Shape of Things

Kristen showed me poached eggs. I chanced upon the purple poacher (in background) in a Family Dollar and was having a great time!

My efforts at water conservation had been for naught and I resorted to paper plates instead of washing.

Preferring its mouthfeel, I still used silver-plated ware.

Also in the background is a jar of ghee. It was Roxanne who showed me it. 

The view is toward the front and behind the juice bottle, barely discerable, are the accordion pleats of the pleats of the rubber shift-stick boot.

Beyond, in the upper left, is the box made by Trini Saavedra. It holds odds and ends that, were they filed away, would be forgotten and thus no longer be enjoyed.

Stillwater National Wildlife Refuge

 

Boats allowed only during hunting season.

Children!

Leaving camp on a smooth road that goes to an active mine, I stood Phoebe on her nose coming to a stop in front of this baby rattlesnake.

Familiar, and appreciative, of their stubborness, I nevertheless brought out my "incensed parent" voice. (My daughter will be 53 in July)

Coiling and assuming the posture, head raised, cocked & loaded, it wiggled its tail in the way they do. In hope of gaining some advantage, I pointed out its youth. Having no observable effect, I switched to expressing appreciation of the warning. This seemed to mollify it somewhat and, backing away I was pleased to see it slooooowly moving off the road.

An hour earlier a large truck had gone by. It would've been a real challenge to stop such a large vehicle or manuever past. "What then?!" asked Grandfather, after telling Peter how wolves roamed the forest.

A Good Day

In the literature on aging there's frequent mention of "good" days when there's a sense of greater energy. 

I've come more than 300'!

Carson Lake South of Fallon

To the South

Larkspur.

One plant can, supposedly, take out a cow;

bless its heart.

A field of the li'l dickens.

Perhaps it's the lower elevation...down from 5,900' to 4,300'. Maybe it's the L-lysine Linus Pauling thought could reverse the effects of artheriosclerosis. I started taking it a little over a week ago after reading about him in Young At Heart by Anne Snowden Crosman.

Perspective

A look at this Palm Springs, California offering from VRBO's 2023 best vacation homes provides perspective on today's American "luxury" aesthetic.

The "green tea infused" mattresses struck a note of intrigue. Based on the lack of LEED certification, I suspect it's not recycled.

Given the design, my guess is the vintage Nintendo and Atari game consoles are in consideration of more aged renters. (No gran'child o' mine want vintage anything.)

It rents for "an average of $3,152.00/night." 

https://www.vrbo.com/2096073?r=DESCRIPTION

Here's an article from 2021 about the price of a personal chef.

South of Hawthorne

Exploring highway 359 south of Hawthorne,

I found my way from 5,000 ft (1500m) to 6,000 (1800m). That much change has me struggling, breathing hard, to get stuff from atop the car, the frying pan.

Cory Canyon Rd

Perusal of the map showed a road extending far beyond the habitations. I picked a spot where a spur led to a large turnaround. Coming up the canyon at sunset, I willingly settled where several cottonwoods presided over a fire-ring.

It being the weekend I expected heavy traffic but it was surprisingly sparse. An amble to the top of a nearby knoll got me cell signal. The horned toad, companionable creatures that they are, sat at the base of the post until I moved off.

Marietta Wild Burros

Coming back from Marietta, they scampered into the road then waited at the side. I parked and proffered a mangy head of lettuce & some high-grade apple from Chelan, Washington. They were curious about the car; it was off.

The Herd

Apple. Not part of their known cuisine.

Having decided I'm worthless.

The Rogue

Dang Nab It!

Yesterday morning a convoy of about six vehicles went out with naught but lizards since.

I was about to shed my tightey-whiteys in favor of letting things "hang free," when I heard...A Noise!

There, in the distance, was a plume of dust presaging the vehicles. Quickly stepping out of The Fruits of the Loom, I barely had time to step behind a door while attempting to don my George (Walmart) boxers as the driver of the Overlanding Jeep waved. He was closely followed by a truck towing a trailer with SIX ATVs! A ways back, bringing up the rear, was a truck camper who managed a perfunctory acknowledgement that I interpreted as recognition of my ensemble. 

SHEESH!!!! Just when you think you have it to yourself.

Apparently disatisfied, fifteen minutes later they came back. I flagged down the jeep and they asked, "Where're (notice the 're instead of 's) all the mines?" Impressed by his grammar, I gave it some thought and gave them a copy of Advocates For The West case notes.

NOW maybe I can continue au naturale.

Derrière...

in the sky

Still recovering from the LSD, I spent the day reading. Emerging to take the evening air, I was greeted by this lovely figure (above).

Wild Burro Range

It came strolling across my view, twirling its cane. After striking this provocative pose, it twiched its tail a couple of times; I made appreciative compliments and expressed admiration and envy.

Recognizing the tableau and the exquiste circumstances that'd brought us together: the closure of highway 120, being enroute to meetup with She-of-the-Capri, and, most traumatically, NO PIE! at Benton Station, I snapped its portrait.

Lizard On a Rock

See it...on top, near the rightmost point?

The Marietta Wild Burro Range is on highway 360 a tad over 7 miles from where it intersects 95. It cuts the corner between 6 and 95 and provides a slower-paced respite from 95's hell-bent-for-leather. And the solitude provides a quiet spot in which to lick the wound of the loss at Benton Station. See:

https://newmexnomad.blogspot.com/2013/06/pie-helps-make-life-worth-living.html?m=1

Benton Station

Coming from the east, Boundary Peak can be, by me at least, mistaken for the Sierras.

Boundary Peak East

Boundary Peak West

LATER

The pies were baked by the Paiute women on the nearby Reservation. They made Benton Station a destination. This time, the store was closed and didn't look as if it was going to reopen.

The gas pumps were on...$6.85/gal for regular and $7.08 for premium. Water came from the spigot in front just like the olde days.

Highway 120 was closed at Benton Hot Springs. There was nothing to do but go back to Nevada.

Shade

As anyone who's been in a desert will affirm, shade makes the difference.

Now, at a few minutes after 9:00 a.m., it's already too warm to go clothesless. A white shirt, preferably a wet white shirt, is essential. 

El es Dee

A splendid spot. Far enough from the highway to not hear it but still be able to walk to it if necessary.

About 30 miles east of Bishop, California...in Nevada.

It's officially sumpin' when the anticipatory morning awning goes up...at 8 pm.

It's looking a tad scruffy. Maybe time to retire it....he said in that slow, post-LSD way.

Nah, it works fine as a sunshade.

International Car Forest

At the time it didn't seem worthy of posting. But now, 8.Jan.24., waiting for hospice to call, I noticed I still have the photos and I figure they might save someone from wasting their time & gas. Or, who knows, one takes one's pleasures where one finds them. Anyway...

Historical Marker Rd

5.1 miles from Rachel, including the 1.2 miles I came up from the highway. Alien Cowpoke Gas and A'Le'Inn constitute the "town." Though it's not listed on Google Maps, I'm countin' on there being a bordello.

Mt. Baldy, a few miles to the SW, is a tad over 9,000 ft.

Tap & spred fingerz to enlargen.

Daz Rachel down der in dee valley. An' dat straight line gwan t'oadz dee mountun be duh highway.

Reed Springs Rd, NV

On 375 west of Crystal Springs which is north of Alamo. Alamo has the creepy grocery-convenience store with the semi-trauler on the hill with TRUMP 24 on it.

The air was cool enough to be able to the steam coming up. It was one of those phenomenas that evokes the recognition of having shelter.

I felt better that morning and enjoyed ambling what I guessed to be a little over a quarter mile.

There's a fine view that's somewhat occluded by smog.

Christo & Jeanne Claude

The Caliente train depot, built in 1923 by the Parkinsons, appears to be the latest victim of those two fabric-weilding fiends.

When I asked in the grocery about the doughnuts, I was told they made them there but the oven was broken. Someday...eventually.

Fire Station #1

Jet Black Crow

That jet black crow wuz makin' fun uv the size of his pickup. Zum-zum, zum-zum.

Journey to Nepal

Steve, Michelle's brother, has skydived, bungee jumped on the New Zealand Canyon Swing and when he went to see mountain gorillas and took a side trip to climb Kilimanjaro, he got an armed escort as there is a bounty on white folks. He recently returned from a trekking adventure to Everest Basecamp.

Yak Train