California's north coast

(The sequence is backwards, but what the heck. A picture of a dog worn out from running all day on the beach is not a bad way to start...)







These pictures are a few of the many I took during our eight day camping trip to the coast.
We went with daughter Ruth. her husband Brian, their children Delaney and Connor, the grand-dog Bodie, and Brian's mother and father and sister ad her two children.
A great family time was had by all.
The pictures were taken primarily at Patrick's Point State Park, one of the state parks the legislature is considering shutting down completely.

More Yosemite

Camp Connell -- I finally went through the photographs we took on our two day Yosemite trip and decided to share a few.

The first photo is of the Housekeeping cabin where we spent the night. It was perfectly adequate, and many families have enjoyed these rustic concrete-sided cabins located alongside the Merced River for generations. I do not understand exactly why a shelter like this costs $80 or so a night, but we had a good night's sleep and great views all around. It was the last place available in the park.
Location. Location. Location.




The second image is of the view downstream from the site of the cabins during an early morning walk. The quality of light in Yosemite Valley is astounding and different all times of the day. Once school is out, and the tourist season is in full swing, the river will fill up with rafts and the beaches and banks with sunbathers.




The third image is what you see when you take time to look up from the Valley floor. Yosemite Falls, the tallest in the United States, tumbling down the northern cliff face on a late May morning. The park was crowded, as it almost always is, but a short walk brings you to quiet places.




The fourth image is what you see when you turn and look to the East. Half Dome, looming over everything. Thousands of people climb to the top every year. Once in a while, as happened last week, someone slips and falls and dies. But the rock does not change except as a result of wind, rain, snow and ice. And the pace of that is slow.




The fifth image was taken after a one-hour drive from the floor of the Valley to the tip of Glacier Point, location of the best views you will ever hope to see. The weather was cloudy and grey, with rain blowing in from the East. You are looking across the canyon that holds Nevada and Vernal Falls,on the lower right, with Half Dome in the bottom center. The high Sierra Nevada looms on the horizon, still coated with snow. I believe the peak is Cathedral Peak, with Mount Dana to the left. Hidden among the granite canyons is Tenaya Lake.




The sixth image looks down, through the rain and mist, on the most popular hiking trail in Yosemite, and perhaps in any national park in America, the Mist Trail. It gets so much traffic it is paved part of the way, and steps are cut into the granite between the waterfalls. Despite warning signs along the way, people often swim in the pools at the top of the waterfalls. It's better just to look. This also is the starting section of the grueling day hike that takes climbers around the back side and to the very top of Half Dome, seen on the left.




And finally, an action shot of a bear doing what bears do and a ranger doing what park rangers do. This was taken as we left the park and drove through Crane Flat. The orphaned yearling bear was prowling around near some downed logs just off the road, probably snacking on carpenter ants, and a traffic jam resulted. Bears have very bad eyesight, and he probably did not notice the crowd he attracted which was downwind. Cars were everywhere along the road, and people gathered in groups to watch from the roadside. The ranger is running to head off a tourist with camera who decided to walk up close to the bear and snap a souvenir photo, a dangerous thing to do with a large wild animal. The ranger protected the tourist from himself. This bear was orphaned last year, according to the ranger, when a tourist killed the mother bear on the road.




I never regret visiting Yosemite but I always leave with mixed feelings. It is one of the most beautiful places on the planet, and three million visitors a year sometimes make it so crowded it can be a grueling experience to get around and look at the sights.
Accommodations are few, and grow more expensive every year.
The Park Service has an impossible job trying to protect the place, and make it available to all of the public. The only answer in my opinion, which I do not like, is to severely limit the number of automobiles allowed into the park. That idea was floated, more than once, and shot down immediately. Politically impossible.
But when you are there, and walk ten minutes away from the crowded sidewalks and trails and look around, you get to see an earthly version of Heaven.

We'll be back.

Yosemite -- a primitive movie

Camp Connell, CA - I cheered up significantly today after getting advice from friends, ranging from "take an anger management class" to "take a walk in the woods."

So I went to the woods nearby, talked to the trees, watched the squirrels and listened to the woodpeckers beating their heads against something hard. I met a lot of nice people along the way.

Lots of life lessons there.

And I came home happy and tried to put together some video clips from a short trip Pat and I made to see Yosemite's waterfalls at peak flow. Understand that it is a primitive film -- no Ken Burns techniques here -- but you'll hopefully get the picture.

A week for the ISMISOB* sign

Things have been pretty quiet here in Camp Connell, my home town. But that doesn't mean nothing at all has been happening.

-- The governor announced, and the legislature may go along with, shutting down 80% of the state parks to save money in the budget crunch. He acts like parks don't employ real people-- just scientists, interpreters, law enforcers, and maintenance folks. Here in one of the smaller counties in the biggest state the local park draws 300,000 tourists a year and generates more than double the expenses in the local economy. Everybody is mad at him about something, and now I am joining the angry throng. What can he be thinking?

-- The weather has been unusual for the first week of June. Temps in the 40s in the morning, with a fair amount of rain, even thunder and lightening. I think I lived in this part of the world almost ten years before I ever heard the sound of thunder. What's up with that? Can I blame this on George Bush and the GOP?

-- Thinking about the state park, and the weather, I was on volunteer duty yesterday on the slightly wet trail through the giant Sequoias when I noticed that some visitor left a just-emptied beer bottle hidden under a bench, rather than take it to a trash or recycle bin. His mother raised an idiot. Enjoy nature and dump your trash for folks to admire?

-- We supported the national economic recovery this week by purchasing a brand new car. It's another Subaru Forester, the best snow/ice vehicle for the mountains. And then I discovered they put bigger and fancier wheels on the new car and our almost-brand-new snow tires won't fit. Zapped by the fashion mavens of the auto industry. Why would they do that?

-- Went to a musical today at the historical Fallon Playhouse in Columbia State Park (another place that may close) to see a performance about the Andrews Sisters. Lots of music, dance, attractive young women who sing well, and a very funny man (the only male in the play). The costumes were great. The dancing right on the mark. The singing was absolutely first rate, and the humor had the entire audience rocking. But I made the mistake of reading two reviews in local newspapers. They were luke warm, pointing out that the audience was older (which it almost always is), and even though it was pretty good, the audience (being older, I assume) didn't leap to its collective feet and make the house thump. Don't these part-time reviewers understand there actually was good music before Eminem?

-- A right-wing loudmouth, who didn't notice how the last national election turned out, is trying to take over local websites that report news. He comments on every item regarding state or national government, usually quoting misinformation heard on talk radio and insulting elected officials by accusing them of being Marxist Commie Pinkos. Anyone who disagrees he calls a fool, and he is getting uglier all the time. It has the effect of spoiling useful public forums. He also is testing my boundless belief in unlimited free speech, but I'll stick with it so far. What sort of manners do you suppose he has at the dinner table?

He would certainly qualify for the "ISMISOB" award.

Many years ago my wife and another woman worked in a Cape Canaveral NASA office dominated by older males who thought they were very important. When the men got out of line and the ladies who did the real work could not take it any more, the women had a little ceremony. They delivered a brass and wooden plaque with "ISMISOB" stamped on the face to the egregious offender. It took the guys a while to figure out that the initials stood for "Inconsiderate Self Made Insufferable Son Of a Bitch."*
They got the message.

I have to be very careful not to move from the "merely grouchy" category to something deserving a plaque.

(Added late: I just learned some numbers this morning that REALLY make me grouchy. From the New York Times:
"According to a 2008 survey of physician salaries by the American Medical Group Association, their average annual salary is $201,555, versus $356,166 for a general surgeon and $614,536 for a neurological surgeon."
Now THAT explains a lot about why we have a health care problem.)

Retirement benefits

Doing my park docent thing at Calaveras Big Trees Park

Camp Connell, CA -- "All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts..."

I don't know if Shakespeare had it right about there being seven stages of man, or woman, but he certainly nailed it on the head when he wrote that there are stages of life we go through.

I've been in the retirement stage of life for more than five years, and life could not be more different than when I worked every day for a living. I still do what I call work, but it is a whole different thing.
I am not ready to vacate the stage, incidentally, but I am enjoying this penultimate act I am experiencing.

The benefits of retirement are many, and not listed in order of importance:
-- I can stay up late, whether in productive pursuits or playing computer games, and it doesn't bother anyone. That's a luxury, and a source of pleasure.
-- I don't attend meetings unless I want to, and -- no surprise -- usually, I don't want to. My life for decades seemed driven by an endless series of meetings, most of which accomplished very little and left me irritated and falling behind in my real work. Now I attend if I can learn something, or offer something.
-- I learn something new almost every day, and that is a source of joy. It may be a lesson in wilderness survival in the winter, the wisdom of a grandchild, or the Latin name of my favorite tree. Or it may be, thanks to the New York Times' continued availability online, some lengthy article about an obscure subject I find interesting.
-- I actually share my days and nights with my wife. We really like each other and enjoy being together, so much so that once in a while we can comfortably enjoy individual pursuits and quiet times without feeling cheated. We have time to be together. And knowing and enjoying my children as adults enriches my days.
-- I am free to attend my grandchildren's events, such as school sports and scout ceremonies, and I don't have to go if I don't want to. They are loving children and are glad to see me, and secure enough not to worry about it if I don't show up. That takes the pressure off. I always enjoy their company.
-- I work with my hands and stay outdoors a lot more than I did before retirement. I chop and stack wood endlessly (we go through five-to-six cords a year here in the snowy seasons). I shovel snow. I make our home fire-safe. I helped rebuild kitchen countertops, erected a snow shed, varnished and unvarnished our sailboat, and am currently painting our home, something I hadn't done in 30 years. These are rewarding activities, and injure to no person.
-- I get more exercise, because I want to, not because someone makes me do it. I hike, ski, and sail. I have given up tennis (no partners) and golf(I am too lousy) and rarely watch sports on television, but don't miss any of it. Except, maybe the tennis, which was really a gathering of friends.
-- I read more, lots more, than when I worked for a living. And I read what I want, which includes fun stuff as well as serious stuff, books as well as the Internet. I don't read much about journalism or the newspaper business. Too depressing.
-- I volunteer my time for things I want to do, such as leading nature hikes in the state park or helping visitors in Yosemite. Both include elements of teaching, which is fun and a great way to learn new things. I can help with music at church or in the community, which is probably sinful because it is too much fun.
-- And I am very slowly working on a legacy for my children and grandchildren, which is a family history project. I want them to know where they came from, and the history and influences that shaped us all. I'm a little behind schedule on that.

Oiling the teak on the deck of S/V Good News

This stage of retirement also includes some things I am not too wild about, but that list is shorter than the advantages:
-- I spend to much time going to and from various doctors, and I'm not even sick!
-- I worry too much about the distant future, more for my children and grandchildren than for myself;
-- I've become more cynical about politicians, the present President excluded, which is a shame. I just don't trust most of them to do the right thing;
-- I no longer have faith that this country, or even this planet, will survive. I'll reduce my impact, but I'm not sure it will help.
Skiing into the big trees on a nice winter day

Enough negativity.
In summary: retirement is great.
I miss the occasional expense account dinner. But generally, I'd rather have a peanut butter, banana and mayonaise sandwich at home anyway.
With Pat, Ruth, Delaney and Connor in Yosemite National Park

Spring comes a-creeping in

Camp Connell, CA -- It may be bad luck to say this, but I think we are done with snow for the year.
The dogwood are beginning to bud, and blooms are appearing even a few hundred feet down the mountain.
The birds are squabbling, which probably means they are in love, and four daffodils have actually bloomed with brilliant yellow.
The forecast for the next few days is sunny with highs in the upper 60s. Perfect weather for almost anything.
So here are a few pictures from our most recent hike in Calaveras Big Trees State Park, almost next door to our mountain home, along the Bradley Grove trail which follows Beaver Creek.
It's early yet at this elevation, but the mosses and mushrooms are obviously ready!

The first picture is of moss and mushrooms, refreshed by rain, on a stump:


The second picture is of a young Sequoia tree the squirrels scratched bark from to build their winter nests.



The third pictures is a wildly green plant, name unknown to me, but it is real pretty:


The last picture is of Pat, park docent and bat expert, checking out the roaring Stanislaus River. From the picture you'd think our drought was over, but the snowpack was low and it looks like the third year in a row for water supply problems in the valleys and cities below us.



We've already moved the deck chairs outside.

Loonies and the flu - que lastima

The radio entertainer called it the "Mexican flu" and, without bothering to check the facts, suggested everyone avoid Mexico and Mexicans.
CNN used a graphic calling it the "Killer flu," and other cable TV shows, needing something to fill their time, ramped up coverage to the point of semi-hysteria.
Tabloids in London used thinly veiled racist language about Mexico and Mexican.
The Chinese government has locked up all Mexicans, in quarantine, after one case turned up.
Readers in San Francisco, arguably America's most liberal city, railed about slamming the borders shut, leaky borders being the problem, and the flu proving the lunacy of allowing Mexicans to come to the U.S. to work, even legally. Racism was explicit in many remarks, and implied in others.
Ignorance -- more kindly defined as a lack of education -- is almost always the breeding ground for fear that leads to racism.
Gotta blame somebody. And never let the facts stand in the way of stupidity.

As a U.S. citizen who has just returned from two weeks in Mexico, where we were treated well and courteously, this is really embarrassing.

I hope my friends in Jalisco never see or hear the ignorance some of our pubic figures have shown, and the racism that seems to jump out of many of the comments -- particularly those posted anonymously on the web.
For the record: this flu has indeed affected more people in Mexico than elsewhere, so far, but the scientists who are studying it say it may have originated in Europe or the U.S. or Mexico, no one is sure at this point. I am hoping it turns out to the the Texas flu, which is one of many possibilities.

And while some people have died, it is not -- on the global scale -- a killer flu like the one in 1918.

My friend Michael, who lives in Mexico, found a pretty pointed song about the swine flu at this link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qT7LF8rSrlw

Cut and paste it into your URL slot. It is funny, and crude.

Then today the New York Times reported on some of the over-reactions and how Mexicans have become scapegoats. That is located at

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/05/world/asia/05china.html?hp

A few facts might help defeat this sort of over-reaction.

Everyone is concerned about catching the flu. But it is quickly becoming apparent it is not a "killer flu" as it has been depicted, any more than any other flu. You might want to compare the death rate of this specific flu to automobile deaths, homicides, or other facts of U.S. life.

Maybe I can start a movement. Let's all go out to dinner at a Mexican restaurant this week, order an expensive dinner, and leave a big tip with an apology.

Or, better yet, take a vacation in Mexico.


We did, and enjoyed it.