Month: September 2023

                             They are massing at the border.

                             Rumors are flying.

                             We have taken to wearing Groucho Glasses.

Letters of both Threats and Praise have been inundating our mailbox.

                   What, you may ask, is going on here?

                   It seems that as soon as we departed the State of Texas back in May, the skies sealed themselves and the entire region was thrown into both a Drought and Heat Wave. Daily temps exceeding 100 degrees for weeks at a time were the norm, coupled with no precipitation.

                   The State made national headlines on a daily basis.

      We observed all of this from the relative safety of the East Coast.

                   Then we returned.

                   The State immediately experienced a decrease in temperature and the rains have been of Biblical Proportions as of late.

                   We are being hailed as Prophets of Precip and at the same time derided as Harbingers of Hell.

                   Hence, the Disguises.

                   We just came back because it was time to.

There were several doctors’ appointments and some Motorhome Maintenance issues that needed to be tended to and it was time to, you know, just set a spell before the next round of Visitations commenced.

I’ve told you about Texas and how everything about it is large. Nothing around these parts is just regular.

                   Size is everything.

                   Texas sized items abound.

H.E.B. our local grocery chain is good example. H.E.B. is Texas borne and bred and they do a fine job of supplying the entire State with vittles and the like.

Back in New Jersey and the surrounding states, Shop Rite is a major player in that industry. Shop Rite and its “parent” cooperative corporation Wakefern is huge! They are the largest cooperative operating in the United States and the fifty or so members operate about 365 stores in the Tri State Region. The combined sales of which exceed 19 billion dollars! I know how this operation is run because I worked for them for about 18 months after the Chatterbox went to the Great Hamburger Stand in the Sky. I admire the way that they operate.

So, now for the comparison.

H.E.B. operates a few more stores, somewhere around 380 or so. Their sales are in the $38 billion range, twice that of Shop Rite! Texans LOVE H.E.B. and so far I don’t really see much competition for them. They are beloved in their own State and are as homegrown as you can be. This can be proven by just the etymology of the name itself. H.E.B. is the acronym/initials of the founder, Howard Edward Butt.

Not a pretty name is it?

I wonder how many playground brawls he got mixed up in as a kid!

Butt, the jokes on them!  Because H.E.B. ranks in the top twenty of all retailers in the United Sates! And they give 5% of their pre-tax profits to local organizations and the folks around here know it.

          So there we were at our local H.E.B. when Armageddon struck. We kind of knew it was coming, at least we knew something was on its way because we don’t go anywhere at any time without checking the Radar and forecasts. Leaving the motorhome to the mercies of the Texas Weather Gods is just plain stupid, especially around here. Awnings need to be retracted, windows shut, outside chairs folded and slid underneath the chassis, and flagpole taken down are the main things that need to be tended to.

The radar showed a storm over Austin which is west of us, and the trajectory seemed to indicate that some of it may be headed our way. We tried to time our errands so that we would not be stuck in the car in a parking lot until it blew over.

Arrived we did at H.E.B. as the sky turned a color and texture indicative of some inclement happenings. I elected to stay out front and watch the show while Paula participated in Produce Perusing, her favorite pastime.

          The events unfolded rather rapidly as this baby was cranking down on us at about thirty mph groundspeed. That was just the speed of the storm and the accompanying front moving through the area. The wind was another story entirely.

It began with the usual splat, splat of large raindrops randomly hitting the parking lot. Folks started making a beeline for their automobiles as a cadre of cart-boys hastily tried (in vain) to round up their charges before  the onslaught of water engulfed our location.

          No one was spared.

          I watched the wind take several abandoned grocery carts and send them careening across the parking lot at speeds that defied logic. If it weren’t for the heroics of the already drenched cart boys who basically sacrificed themselves, there would have been serious damage done to vehicles in that parking lot.

          Citations for Bravery are being arranged.

There was no escaping this event. If you were unlucky enough to be out of your vehicle, on your way into the store, and belonged to the Mobility Challenged group of the population, you were a goner. One poor lady, obviously a Card-Carrying Member of the group, could not have been wetter if she had just climbed out of a swimming pool. The store took care of her and helped her get dried off.

Now, we’ve all experienced Big Storms in the summer. Lightning crashing down all around, thunder rolling through the skies, and winds that turn trees inside out.

But this was different. This was one of those Texas Sized items that seem to come with being here. I can honestly say that I have not experienced anything like this one before. I know that the Mid-West and environs are famous for their storms rolling across the plains, but unless you’ve witnessed one, it’s hard to convey its enormity and ferocity.

As I stood in the front of the store watching all of this unfurl in front of us, Paula came up and stood next to me. Soon I noticed the folks around us pointing at us and whispering to each other, cupping their hands by each other’s ears so that we couldn’t hear them.

But I heard one of them say, “It’s them!“

We quickly donned our Groucho Glasses and unsuccessfully dodged the raindrops as we made a beeline for the relative safety of our car before the Mob had a chance to react.

                             We arrived in Durango just in time for the 101^st Southern Ute Tribe’s Annual Parade. This is of consequence because my daughter Lorelyn, has been an attorney for the Southern Ute Tribe for the past sixteen years and takes a lot of pride in the fact that she participates as much as she can in the cultural events and festivities as she is allowed to.

                             This particular event, The Parade, is something that all of the different departments of the Tribe are encouraged to represent themselves with their participation. Many of the other local groups and even individuals (i.e. Tribal Members running for various offices and the younger members vying for positions like Pow-Wow Princess) participate also and that level of that participation may, in fact, have an impact on their eventual selection.

                             The day was just gorgeous which meant that the turnout for this was outstanding. The Tribe’s headquarters is in the little town of Ignacio and the parade route would bring it down Ignacio’s Main Street which also happens to be Highway 160, the major thoroughfare of the region. Which also means that all of the traffic that normally would travel on this road needs to detour through other parts of town. I love it when a tiny locality gets to showcase itself on its own Main Street once a year and everyone else has to step aside. We’ve seen this before while traveling around, and while it may be a minor inconvenience you’ve got to feel happy for the local folk who get their day in the sun.

                             And sunny it was! The Parade was scheduled for 10 AM so we arrived a bit early to see if we could be of any assistance. Lorelyn had volunteered our services (if needed) but the Legal Department and their partners from the Permanent Fund, had been hard at work since the day before constructing their Float.

                             The theme of this year’s parade was “Bread of Unity”, and the obvious tie-in was a staple of Native American life, the very tasty Fry Bread. Fry Bread is viewed by some as a symbol of the past colonialism and injustices suffered by Native Americans. This is because in order to keep from starving thousands and thousands of Native Americans, the US government needed to supply some rations for them when they were moved from their traditional hunting grounds and subsistence farming areas. The rations consisted of wheat flour, salt, lard, and a few other items. These ingredients were the base for what has come to be known as Fry Bread.

                             Fry Bread now can be had at home or at festivals, State Fairs, and also along the highways of the Southwest, especially on Reservations, at roadside stands, and is usually topped with honey, powdered sugar, or it can be had with beef or chicken, making it a taco of sorts.  This was what the combined team’s Float was made to look like, a home-made roadside fry bread stand.  Not only did they have this replica of a Roadside Stand on their trailer, but they also spent the day before, and that morning, prepping and then cooking a zillion loaves of Fry Bread to be given out along the Parade Route. Most of the parade participants throw handfuls of candy to the spectators as has been done in the past. This practice, as you may imagine, has its fans (the little kids) and its detractors (the Health Community and parents (?).

                             Oh, did I mention that there were judges involved? The bragging rights that go along with a win are huge in this community! Knowing that, and then acting upon it, the Combined Team decided that they would actually make Fry Bread and distribute that instead of candy. We were there (I drove the truck towing the Float) and could hear the announcers (and hopefully the Judges) reactions when they found out that they were being given samples of the Fry Bread being distributed!

                             The best part of being there was that we were able to watch first-hand a community celebrate their heritage. The traditional garments worn by Tribal Members were just incredible as you can see from the photos. In a way, I was jealous of all of these fine folks. Being a mutt of Irish, English, and German backgrounds, I have no real ties to any ethnic origins or traditions. Being able to watch a group of closely knit folks celebrate their heritage and traditions was quite the experience and we were honored to be able to watch and participate to the level that we did.

Thank you so far to Dino, Karen, Liz, Elaine, Brian, and Susan for your votes in the Can’t Decide Which Photo Survey. So far, Mr. Color has more votes than his much older predecessor, Mr. Black and White.

Judging anything “Artsy” is purely subjective which is the main reason that it’s so much fun because there is no wrong answer! As far as the “Choosing” goes, it seems that the main reason given so far was that there appeared to be more detail to be seen in the Color rendition. I wonder if that is because of the way that I processed that photo in B&W? I’m going to revisit it and play with the processing and see what can be done…. if anything.

I asked this question because I did not know which one I preferred! I am a Black and White aficionado, a hold out from my days spent in the darkroom back in high school and college. I probably still lean that way….. that there are photos that just scream to be in B&W, but then, that’s just my opinion.

So, just for fun, take a look at this one! A mediocre compromise that highlights the stuff that can be done with today’s digital technology. I don’t know how to use Photoshop, so I sent the photo (taken with my Canon 90D) back to my Samsung S20 Phone and worked on it in there!

                             Yesterday was a Travel Day.

                             Travel Days are usually uneventful unless we hit a swarm of Bugs, or some strange warning light illuminates itself on the dashboard.

                             But yesterday was a thankfully an uneventful day, bookended by two activities that kind of fell into our laps.

                             Our first nice surprise was a relatively regular sunrise in Grand Teton. The previous day, we arrived in the Park fairly early in the morning (which proved beneficial because of those pesky clouds later in the day) and were rewarded with some nice views of the Mountains. Yesterday we planned to get up even earlier and see if we could catch some even better views of the Tetons on our way out of the area.

                             Clouds were on the Eastern Horizon, so the sunlight could only peek in and out every so often, but, as we drove southward with the Tetons on our right-hand side, the clouds parted and rewarded us with some very nice photos. We even got one of our House-On-Wheels in front of Grand Teton itself!

                             The goal of the day was to be in Price, Utah by mid-afternoon, leaving just four or five hours left on our trip to Durango, Colorado where my daughter Lorelyn and her husband Travis live.

                             In speaking to Lorelyn and telling her of our plans, she excitedly informed is that some of the BEST rock-art/petroglyphs in the entire southwest were located a relatively short stones throw away from where were planning to spend the night….. the famous Walmart of Price.

                             We needed to drive an additional five miles in order to get to Nine Mile Canyon, which questionably, is about forty miles long.

                             And the petroglyphs that we’re going to look for started thirty-three miles in! That means that we added approximately another eighty miles to our daily total, but it was worth it!

                             Lorelyn and Travis have brought us to many examples of these ancient art forms over the years. They have become somewhat of experts on this topic, and we return their favors by appreciating these thousand-year-old renditions of both everyday life and the fantasies of the peoples that lived here so long ago.

                             The Ancestral Puebloans (relatively new term for Anasazi) and their contemporaries, the Fremont People are the folks that are responsible for carving all of these designs, figures, and stories into what is called Desert Varnish. Desert Varnish is the dark stuff on some of the rocks and cliffs that are seen through this area. It is not by any means considered rare, but it does not appear just anywhere as the conditions needed for it to form are the correct amount of moisture, sunlight, minerals, wind, and some organic material that are present all around here, just not deposited everywhere.

                             The interesting thing about Desert Varnish is that it takes thousands and thousands of years to accumulate on the rock’s surface. And…. it’s really thin!

                             The Varnish grows at rate of about a micrometer every thousand years. For comparison purposes, a human hair is several micrometers thick.

                             The Artists would chip away at the varnish-covered rock faces with quartz chipping tools in order to achieve their desired results. These panels of artwork were done about a thousand years ago and as you will see, the Desert Varnish has yet to even grow back on the chipped away areas!

                             Please don’t get the impression that Paula and I are any kind of experts on this subject and somehow found all of these examples. Nope, we were led here by some very detailed maps and such that allowed us to “find” them for ourselves. But I will show you how hard it is to initially see these things by some comparison photos….. so here goes!

Petroglyphs are the ones that are “pecked” away at, achieving their desired results by removing a layer of that Desert Varnish. Pictographs are the ones that use different minerals and dyes to “paint” or make outlines of things using a brush of sorts. Everything at these sites were of the petroglyph variety.

And last but not least, I have a favor to ask of all of you. The next two photos are identical in subject and framing. The only difference is that one is in Color and the other is Black and White. I would like for you to vote on which one you prefer. In the Comments section below, just type in Color or BW. Nothing else is needed, but you are obviously welcome to make any comments at any time. I pretty much answer all of them!

Thanks! And we will see if any “Adventures” develop in the Durango area that are worthy of a Post. Soon we will be back in Texas, but it is still really hot down there so we are not rushing it!

                   Yosemite has El Capitan.

                   Yellowstone has Old Faithful.

                   Mt. Rushmore has the Guys.

                   And Grand Teton has, well, the Tetons.

                             And are they ever Grand!

          This is another example of even though you may have never been here, I’m sure that you have seen photos of this National Park and its Grand subjects……. The very impressive Teton Range in northwest Wyoming.

                   You may recall that we tried in vain to get here last year on our way back East in the Spring. Unfortunately for us, Winter has a nasty habit of holding on to this region for as long as she can and even though baseballs had been flying for weeks, the roads and the Park were still grounded. At least for our purposes. These Parks are open 24/7/365, but many areas of a Park may be shut down because of inaccessibility.

                   So, as the saying goes… There’s always next year!

          And here we are, only for a day or so, but unless you are taking advantage of their two hundred miles of hiking trails, or even scaling the 13,775 foot tall Grand Teton, a day is about all you need to roam this Park. And that is not taking anything away from it! Everything here is absolutely gorgeous and accessible.

                   Obviously the draw is the peaks of Teton Range themselves and they are visible from everywhere!

                   This Range is one of the youngest on the planet and is the youngest in the States. (They are roughly 10 million years old compared to the Rockies at about 65 million years or the Appalachians at a whopping  300 million years!) They grow out of a small fault and are only forty miles long. The surrounding area is about as flat as it gets until Bam! up pops these incredible mountains looking like that random mountain range that springs up out of the plywood base of your toy train layout!

          That means that practically wherever you go here, you can see the main reason for visiting this Park. It also means that the view of the Mountains changes with every turn in the road, which makes photo -taking a bit of a challenge and I’m glad that I’m using a digital format cuz in the Olden Days, rolls and rolls of film would have needed to be processed at the end of the trip! I obviously will not include every photo taken during our stay here! You will need to visit yourself and discover the nuances of the ever-changing views of the Grand Tetons!

                   Dateline: 1 September 2023

                   Location: Remote Forward Air Base Seeley Lake

          Rumors were flying (pun intended) around the Base that the Labor Day festivities would include an enormous slab of 14-Hour Smoked Brisket. The rumors were well founded but the issue remained as to the Procurement of this delightful delicacy as small as this Base is, everyone knew that there were no pieces of meat that fit that description.

          A hastily called meeting of the Senior Staff concurred that indeed, there was no meat of that kind anywhere on base, and in order not to disappoint the small legion of Base inhabitants, a Plan of Procurement was put into place.

                             A Raid was planned on the Quartermaster’s Supply Depot, Costco. The only issue was that this Costco was housed in the center of a neighboring base, Fort Missoula, so a foray into this base, the extraction of said Beef, and a successful retreat were put into the hands of Lieutenant Matthew (The Kid) McNeill and his handpicked team of Captain Steve (Poppy) McNeill, Corporal Don (Who me?) Hall, and Mission Specialist Paula (Coupon-Clipper) McCarthy.

                             Operation: Brisket Buy was scheduled for 15:30 hours that afternoon, but there was still some training needed. Specialist McCarthy did not yet have the required number of Small Aircraft Hours logged, so one of the Mission Aircraft was hastily rolled out of its hanger and the veteran pilot and mission participant Captain McNeill volunteered to bring McCarthy aloft to complete her training that (if you will recall) began last week with the run up to Flathead Lake for lunch and Pie Procurement in those forest fire induced low visibility conditions.

Since then, a few days of inclement weather helped extinguish the local flames which resulted in clear skies and gorgeous aerial views.

The only issue here was that the better visibility would make the Flight easier to spot. Coast Watcher and Fire Lookout Dave, from up in the Fire Tower (also from last week  when we went on a ground mission to check on him and gain his confidence [and have a picnic lunch at the summit!] in case he was needed in the future).

That day proved successful as now that the skies had cleared, we needed his sharp eyes to let us know if we were detected on our way to Fort Missoula.

                   The Mission was scheduled in two parts. First the Main Cargo Plane, piloted by Lieutenant Matt McNeill, with Hall and McCarthy riding shotgun as it were, took off on time and flew on a route that took them through the pass between Murphy Peak and Charity Peak which allowed for a lower altitude in order to escape Radar Detection. Captain Steve would take off a little later in Aircraft #2, the Cub, and land in Missoula ostensibly to “check on his other aircraft” (the Mu-2, which had brought everyone up from Phoenix yesterday).

                   Aircraft #1, the Beechcraft 265 landed without any issues and the crew, dressed in “civvies” walked nonchalantly over to the escape car which is secretly kept here at the base so that it can be used when one of the Seeley Airbase members come into town.

                   The Quartermaster’s Headquarters was only a block away so a getaway should not be an issue. We arrived at  Costco undetected as there were many others in attendance on this Holiday Weekend Saturday. Entering, we bee-lined it for the Brisket Vault and after bribing the guard we exited with a very promising looking brisket. We then quickly filled our basket with other non-essential essentials, as can only be done at a store like this) in order to disguise our true mission of….. Brisket Procurement. Mission Specialist Paula “Coupon Clipper” McCarthy was delirious and overwhelmed with the amount of good stuff at bargain prices. She almost blew our cover in her exuberance.

                   We then made it through the two Exit Checkpoints of Costco, again not detected, and promptly filled the escape car’s trunk with our loot.

                   Back at Fort Missoula Airbase, our co-conspirator, Captain Steve` was waiting patiently. The plan was for us to split up making any tailing of us more difficult. It also allowed for the better weight distribution of our Ill-Gotten-Booty. My place in the Beech 265 was to be taken by the “cargo’  and I would then join Captain Steve in the Ultra-Mega Cub. This thing is the proverbial “wolf in sheep’s clothing” as it normally would have about a 115 hp motor, but now sports 200+ hp motor. No one was the wiser.

                   Taking off from Missoula was uneventful as we were careful not to give ourselves away. We just blended into the everyday flights that come and go , to and from, all parts of the country.

                   Captain Steve and Corporal Don took off first as even though they had 200+ hp under the cowling, it was still a Cub, which is not designed for swift travel. The Beech with Lieutenant McNeill and  a recovering Paula eventually overtook and passed us. We flew in formation for a while executing several aerial maneuvers that would have made the Blue Angels gasp in awe!

                   The Brisket landed first while Captain Steve and I flew up and around Coast Watcher Dave in his tower to thank him for his vigilance and participation in our successful mission.

                   Landing back at Remote Base Seeley Lake in time for BBQ Ribs and accoutrements for dinner, we all eventually retired to our hammocks, pulled the mosquito netting over us and as soon as the Sarge yelled “Lights Out!” we started dreaming of a slow roasted smoked brisket being slapped onto our plates in the Mess Hall.

Future Report to follow.

                   “Shhhh! Don’t say that out loud!”

                   “What?”

                   “You can’t say that you don’t like cheese curds around here!”

                   “Why not?”

                   “Because the Curd Police are everywhere and if they hear you talk bad about the most favorite thing in this State, they’ll drag you to the nearest border and kick you out!”

                   “But I don’t like Cheese Curds, it’s like eating a bunch of tough boiled big clams that ‘squeak’ when you chew them!”

                   “Makes no never-mind, you have to at least pretend that you like them. Everyone is crazy here, and we don’t wany any trouble!”

                             That was a snippet of a conversation overheard when we were in Wisconsin.

You know, the Cheese State.

Cheeseheads……

They wear those foam rubber wedge-shaped ‘piece of cheese’ hats everywhere!

          Out here in Montana the local craze (a word derived from crazy, whose synonyms include, mad, eccentric, odd, bizarre, and irrational) is the Huckleberry.

Now, we’ve all heard of a Huckleberry, but I’m not sure that I knew that it was a real thing. My experience with that word started in the early ‘60’s with the Hanna-Barbera cartoon, Huckleberry Hound.

Remember him?

That Southern accented talking blue dog?

Huck went into retirement after about three years, but another member of his show went on to fame and fortune, eventually opening and running his own empire of RV Parks and Campgrounds.

          Yes, Yogi Bear was a spin-off of Huck’s cartoon show, and his RV Parks are very nice as we can attest to.

          The other most famous use of Huckleberry comes from a contemporary of Yogi’s.

Not Bear….

But… Berra!

That person is none other than the Scooter himself, Phil Rizzuto, who when he retired from playing became the voice of the Yankees and was known to call various players a ‘huckleberry’ when they made an error on the field.

          Out here in Montana, Huckleberry Everything is Everywhere!

                             They kind of taste like a cross between a raspberry and a blueberry, but each color, or variety, has its own subtleties.

                             But!

Have no fear!

They will make anything with Huckleberries around here so no matter what you have craving for, you will find a Huckleberry kind of it with no problem!

The Huckleberry Police are crawling all over this area, so I think I’ll go back to Jersey for a Taylor ham, egg’n cheese, salt, pep, ketch, on a hard roll.

But don’t say it out loud that you don’t like it.

Just order a bacon……..