Kelley 2007 Adventure, part 2.
Well it's June 27 in Fresno, CA, and we are clean.
Not in a metaphysical sense, mind-you, for that would take an abrasive not unlike a diamond grinder, but instead a simple shower to wash away the trail dust of 2 days of camping and hiking in Sequioa/Kings Canyon Nation Forest.
Amazing forests tucked high above deserts and California's Central Valley, trees so large that the visiting church group of Korea, 20 strong, could not circle it's girth with arms held wide. Even in the these amazing forests there was my theme-word for California so far... Arid. I don't know how the bears can make a living up here, except for panhandling, but that results in assassinations of the ursids. I guess the bullet beats starvation for the Grande Adios. The only repreave was found in the lush meadows, forming pockets of chest-high green in the cradles of sloping conifer wood.
It bothers me that I don't know most of the names of the birds and flora here, but I'm working on it, much to the roomate's chagrin.
Tomorrow we head north on CA-41 to Yosemite Park, to see what there is to be seen. The American proverb of bears climbing hills suddenly becomes very...real?
God's blessings to all,
Jim.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Tulare, California
The 2007 Summer Road Trip, part 1.
Enjoying the comforts of an airconditioned hotel suite and high speed wireless (yes, I forgot my lan cable), I pause in my modestly clad moment to reflect on the first leg of our adventure to the West.
Arid. From the Texas hillcountry to the Pacific Ocean, that word best encapsulates the color brown that has accompanied us westward. Oh sure, there are repeated punctuations of artificially pumped oases sprouting monocultured produce along the way, but aside from these short-lived anecdotes live the native sage, cactus and desert scrub of this rainless region. The paradox is the plethora of people, populations pooled in pockets of prosperity, yet portraying the preposterous propensity of our species to ignore what seems obvious to this displaced Irishman... it's a desert. There are millions and millions of water-dependent people living in a desert, pumping up ancient waters and channeling the flowing remnants of some mountain rain. And more people come.
Scaling the mountains of southern California until the Pacific is in view, the landscape suddenly turns Hawaiian... tight-cramped real estate knit together with tropical vegetation and long lines of cruising cars driving slow enough to see and be seen. We envy the speeding bicycle lane passing the clogged car lanes, and appreciate afresh the respect Californians allow motorcycles as they are permitted to 'drive the line', passing between cars in their lanes. The air suddenly became cool, dropping 30 degrees in honor of the the chilled ocean waters flowing down from the Arctic. I can certainly appreciate the appeal of living in a sunny, air-conditioned climate, especially if you are an affluent extrovert.
The highlight of our trip, however, has been the opportunity to visit with old friends and family. Starting with the great visit with Dad and the Kelley boys (Justin and Chase) and a Father's Day fishing trip in Rockport, we headed up to visit the Hendersons of Junction, Texas. From Junction we headed through VanHorn, Texas, to spend the night in the mountains of Silver City, NM, a quiet college town of artisans and tourists. From there we headed north into the mountains for a scenic entrance into Phoenix, AZ, to visit with Kathy's aunt and uncle Hoag.
From Phoenix we headed down I-8 toward the coast, where we eventually met up with old friend and successful Irishman, Nick Jordan. Nick is a blessing, and we truly enjoyed the time we spent with this charming and loving father of 2 energetic boys. We also enjoyed the honor of a meal with Princess Evelyn, daughter Sheila, and Dr. Lear.
By the way, anyone heading to Tulare, CA, needs to have a meal at Cool Hand Lukes... amazing food.
Today we head into the mountains of the Sequia forests.
All for now. Jim.
Enjoying the comforts of an airconditioned hotel suite and high speed wireless (yes, I forgot my lan cable), I pause in my modestly clad moment to reflect on the first leg of our adventure to the West.
Arid. From the Texas hillcountry to the Pacific Ocean, that word best encapsulates the color brown that has accompanied us westward. Oh sure, there are repeated punctuations of artificially pumped oases sprouting monocultured produce along the way, but aside from these short-lived anecdotes live the native sage, cactus and desert scrub of this rainless region. The paradox is the plethora of people, populations pooled in pockets of prosperity, yet portraying the preposterous propensity of our species to ignore what seems obvious to this displaced Irishman... it's a desert. There are millions and millions of water-dependent people living in a desert, pumping up ancient waters and channeling the flowing remnants of some mountain rain. And more people come.
Scaling the mountains of southern California until the Pacific is in view, the landscape suddenly turns Hawaiian... tight-cramped real estate knit together with tropical vegetation and long lines of cruising cars driving slow enough to see and be seen. We envy the speeding bicycle lane passing the clogged car lanes, and appreciate afresh the respect Californians allow motorcycles as they are permitted to 'drive the line', passing between cars in their lanes. The air suddenly became cool, dropping 30 degrees in honor of the the chilled ocean waters flowing down from the Arctic. I can certainly appreciate the appeal of living in a sunny, air-conditioned climate, especially if you are an affluent extrovert.
The highlight of our trip, however, has been the opportunity to visit with old friends and family. Starting with the great visit with Dad and the Kelley boys (Justin and Chase) and a Father's Day fishing trip in Rockport, we headed up to visit the Hendersons of Junction, Texas. From Junction we headed through VanHorn, Texas, to spend the night in the mountains of Silver City, NM, a quiet college town of artisans and tourists. From there we headed north into the mountains for a scenic entrance into Phoenix, AZ, to visit with Kathy's aunt and uncle Hoag.
From Phoenix we headed down I-8 toward the coast, where we eventually met up with old friend and successful Irishman, Nick Jordan. Nick is a blessing, and we truly enjoyed the time we spent with this charming and loving father of 2 energetic boys. We also enjoyed the honor of a meal with Princess Evelyn, daughter Sheila, and Dr. Lear.
By the way, anyone heading to Tulare, CA, needs to have a meal at Cool Hand Lukes... amazing food.
Today we head into the mountains of the Sequia forests.
All for now. Jim.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Illegal immigrant
I saw him twice in my backyard this week.
The audacity to come onto my property and check out my stuff, as if he was looking over his own domain. I never gave him permission-- I've never even met this interesting squatter.
His relatives are probably from Cuba, his brown skin betrays his origins. Anolis sagrei is his name.
Like many illegal immigrants, he appears very nervous, always looking around and he immediately runs off when I go outside to meet him. I don't dislike him and I don't intend him any harm; I'm just fascinated by his differences. Also like many immigrants, his kind stick to themselves, orginally coming over to Florida and now setting up shop in Harris County, Texas; it's interesting that his kind are only found in the Houston area, probably due to the land development and need for landscaping and gardening. That will probably change in time.
He would not be able to appreciate it, but there is a growing concern for those who are already here, natives, who will be displaced by this newcomer, though the few who could proclaim it are busy playing in ditches or looking for the last remaining fireflies.
We live in a world that is changing; with the Ice Age finally starting to thaw out and the Mandarin tsunami about to sweep Westerners off their pedistals, there is something to be learned from these invaders, how they adapt to change, how they become a new dominant force, etc. Natural selection is alive and well on Wall Street and my own backyard. I guess my challenge is to enjoy the moment and those that God placed in my midst.
The audacity to come onto my property and check out my stuff, as if he was looking over his own domain. I never gave him permission-- I've never even met this interesting squatter.
His relatives are probably from Cuba, his brown skin betrays his origins. Anolis sagrei is his name.
Like many illegal immigrants, he appears very nervous, always looking around and he immediately runs off when I go outside to meet him. I don't dislike him and I don't intend him any harm; I'm just fascinated by his differences. Also like many immigrants, his kind stick to themselves, orginally coming over to Florida and now setting up shop in Harris County, Texas; it's interesting that his kind are only found in the Houston area, probably due to the land development and need for landscaping and gardening. That will probably change in time.
He would not be able to appreciate it, but there is a growing concern for those who are already here, natives, who will be displaced by this newcomer, though the few who could proclaim it are busy playing in ditches or looking for the last remaining fireflies.
We live in a world that is changing; with the Ice Age finally starting to thaw out and the Mandarin tsunami about to sweep Westerners off their pedistals, there is something to be learned from these invaders, how they adapt to change, how they become a new dominant force, etc. Natural selection is alive and well on Wall Street and my own backyard. I guess my challenge is to enjoy the moment and those that God placed in my midst.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
