Magick is Afoot - Third Anniversary

There're few roads into the Kofa. Luck showed me a new one. Sunset was happening and I was only able to get about a mile from the highway.

These LPFs (little purple flowers) marked

the entrance to camp.

Kofa

(King of Arizona)

It was three years ago this day that I had my infarction. I'd known it was coming and in anticipation and so she could inherit my Social Security, on January 16, 2018 Ms. Cook and I legally married. But I survived.

Statistics suggest most people die of the 2nd infarction which usually occurs within four years.

Kofa - In Four Wheel Drive

The roads in Kofa National Wildlife Refuge are not friendly to large or fragile vehicles. Most ARE navigable, at least to a degree, with a sedan, but large cobbles, recalcitrant protuberances along with creosote and cacti eager to "reach out and touch someone" can intimidate those who have concerns.

There's a campsite a few hundred feet before this short section. Getting down wasn't too hard and though I suspect it wasn't necessary, I used four-wheel-drive low to get back up.

Phoebe is my first four-wheel-drive vehicle and I'm still in discovery as to her abilities. The difference between the apparent ease with which she navigates terrain compared to the experience behind the wheel, is still a surprise.

Goodyear Wrangler Trailrunners on the front. Goodyear on the back as well.

Kofa - Gnarly's Camp

 

Avid Photographer

Concession to Convention

Our public Lands, frequently managed by the Bureau of Land Management, are often in remote places where one can safely surmise that one has it to one's self. But I've seen postings by The Bureau where they warn that due to the potential proximity of others, nudity is not allowed. 

Like Paul Winer (deceased), I eschew clothing. Not for any principaled reason, but simply because I don't like the feel of cloth against my skin. 

Though there is little traffic in Kofa, any is some. In a concession to convention and a placatory nod to the BLM, I not only don underpants, but augment the concession with shorts...such as they are.

Crafted from long pants that've seen better days, they rip and tear as I squat, bend over and otherwise cavort about. 

Gnarlies in Morning Light

Oak Canyon is on the map. It takes 4whl or AWD to get there. A little beyond it there's a spot that's gonna need some work with a pickaxe; and dangit, I forgot mine! 

Kofa

If there's anything that epitomizes the mundanity of the bureaucratic minds it's the assigning of place names. Thus we have Kofa from the: King Mine of Arizona. Nothing about the magnificence of the landscape, the strange and beautiful flora nor recognition of its significance as one of the few remaining holdouts for Desert Bighorn Sheep.

The silence is amazing! No cow shit so only a lone fly that soon leaves after, one surmises, the disappointment of not finding anything to eat. Occasional flyover and an ATV now and then let one know civilization is there if you need it.

Ubiquitous Haze

Red!

As Close As We're Gonna Get

The road goes past a game water entrenchment and ends about 500' (152 m) from the Kofa boundary. I managed to walk 200' further, but despite having taken my meds the angina flared and had me wondering if I'd make it back to the car. I'm still not in the habit of pocketing the nitroglycerin before ambling about...and after nearly two years, still not used to being this constrained.

It's at those times, when pain refuses to be ignored, that it helps to be in a place so beautiful. One can, at least for the moment, side-step the remorse (self pity) that lurks at the edge of consciousness. 

Emerging from the bush, I was hailed by this venerable majesteria with a noble und basso "HalloOOO!"

I almost laughed aloud at the nose-snorts and barely-suppressed titters as this one gleefully beckoned me, "Come closer."

And these two friends, nestled in close to each other, looked as cozy as two can be.

The saguaros! Lending their stately verticality to the owls and others that rely on them.

Pigpower

The last few Blogger updates have come with minor irritants: the first sentence is always indented by one character.  I have to go back and "backspace" to make it line up. Jeezzus!

The other annoyance is the disappearing title. Along about the 3rd or 10th character either all or a portion vanishes. I've taken to typing randomly to get it out of its system. This morning, before backspacing over the lot, I noticed Pigpower was in the first position. So it shall be. (I can only assume if I kept at it the complete writings of Shakespeare, or maybe Aldous Huxley or Peewee Herman would appear.)

The title I had in mind was: Closer; Pigpower is much more dynamic.

These two "sets" of hills are adjacent each other. There're few roads, but there're no restrictions on cross-country travel. So far I've followed tracks others have made...drawing ever closer to the western boundary of Kofa National Wildlife Refuge. The refuge got its name from the acronym for the King of Arizona gold mine.   

 

It got warm enough to shed clothes, but gets cold the minute the sun goes down. The evenings are so pretty I've wanted to enjoy...so decided to have a fire. 

It's been at least a week since my last amble so I knew I'd not be able to go far; gathering wood was perfect.

Preliminary foray led to taking an Iso to alleviate the angina. It worked but after less than an hour I was exhausted and fell asleep.

Awakened by the angina I took a full dose. I've been going 12 hours between but now, after the exertion, it's down to eight. And now, three hours later, it's still nagging. She said I'd know by "when the medication stops working." There's the familiar sound in my ears that signals lack of oxygen. Tomorrow's supposed to be even warmer.

We'll see.

KOFA Shibari

Borrowing ideas from Kinbakuluxuria, we entered the other-worldly space of KOFA National Wildlife Refuge. It's SO nice not to have neighbors. We can emote to our heart's content knowing no one will come running. Not that they would anyway, but she can only handle, at least at present, one at a time.

Purple's always, since kindergarten, been my fav color.

That, plus the fact I can't whistle, qualifies me, according to Good Luck Duck, to call myself Queer. But I don't know. I mean, I don't feel queer.

Update 30.Dec.2022 - For reasons unknown, I'm now able to whistle Yankee Doodle Dandee and The Stars & Stripes Forever march. Who'duh thunk?