tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204029912024-03-13T13:06:35.676-07:00Walking PrescottAll about the flavor of a small mountain city and the surrounding outback: neighborhood surprises ... wildflowers and nature ... the forest ... people and events ... plus occasional comments on science fiction, music, and the Great Wide World BeyondGranny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.comBlogger1333125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-57064250309314525942010-05-25T15:22:00.004-07:002010-05-25T15:43:40.375-07:00Walking no more<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S_xOApXQA5I/AAAAAAAAS9s/KLYi_GLfY94/s1600/earlyjwaww.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 249px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S_xOApXQA5I/AAAAAAAAS9s/KLYi_GLfY94/s400/earlyjwaww.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475337019986019218" border="0" /></a><br />How to say this?<br /><br />Julie--GrannyJ--died Monday evening in the hospital.<br /><br />I have been meaning to post an update for everyone about her hospital stay; she wanted me to let y'all know that she had a "shiny new toy"--aka pacemaker--and was healing up and ready to start blogging again. But, alas, I kept putting it off.<br /><br />She entered the hospital two weeks ago for shortness of breath, which was diagnosed as bronchitis. While she was there, her cardiologist and her care doctor decided she needed the pacemaker, stat. While they were implanting the pacemaker, she suffered a collapsed lung. Things seemed to be getting better; she was healing, she had good color, she was just waiting to get out and was looking forward to having me take her on a few drives.<br /><br />But then she suffered an additional post-surgery complication, something called an "ileus", which means your digestive tract has shut down. Normally, an ileus resolves itself, but hers persisted, and the docs were trying everything they could.<br /><br />Nothing worked.<br /><br />Her body--tired of all the medical procedures--simply gave out, she had a breathing crisis, and then her heartbeat plummeted (even with her fancy "shiny new toy"). I was there, holding her hand, while she passed. Far better this way than spending a few more years declining more and more.<br /><br />She loved this blog, and all her interactions with every one of her commenters. I know you all will miss her--but not as much as I will, and the rest of her family and IRL friends.<br /><br />The picture at the top is of her and my father, when they were newly a couple. The picture below is from just two years ago, showing her with her trusty walking stick and one of her favorite R.E.D. sweatshirts with a splendid northwest coastal Indian graphic. She loved exploring Arizona, and even as her health deteriorated, she did her best to keep exploring.<br /><br />If you feel like doing something in her name, I was thinking that you should try to locate a local wildflower organization and donate to it in her name. Mom loved wildflowers, and she did her best to cultivate them in her gardens over the years. Sometimes it succeeded, sometimes it didn't. One of her joys was venturing out into the woods, whether the various forest preserves around the Chicago area, or the national forests here in Arizona, and discovering which flowers were out and about.<br /><br />I will probably be posting various memories for a while at my own <a href="http://omegamom.com/">blog</a>; you are welcome to come read and share.<br /><br />Peace and blessings to you all--OmegaMom/Kate<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S_xOBQ0FBaI/AAAAAAAAS90/tfpGFk04U-U/s1600/betterdays.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S_xOBQ0FBaI/AAAAAAAAS90/tfpGFk04U-U/s400/betterdays.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475337030575916450" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-50858286382599220502010-05-08T22:52:00.003-07:002010-05-08T23:18:00.247-07:00Pretty little plaques<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-ZN5gWGNvI/AAAAAAAAS9k/tG--8QLNY68/s1600/mariposaUSE.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-ZN5gWGNvI/AAAAAAAAS9k/tG--8QLNY68/s400/mariposaUSE.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469144447818544882" border="0" /></a>When my daughter was stuck with the agony of moving me & my stuff into my small ALF apartment, she made a selection of art and artifacts from the overload at the house. Among the items that made the cut were these three Mexican plaques in the classic talavera style; they now greet me in my bathroom. And they add three words to my Spanish vocabulary. First is, of course, <span style="font-style: italic;">butterfly</span>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-ZN4wEQRaI/AAAAAAAAS9c/97u0xRX8LJw/s1600/codorniz.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-ZN4wEQRaI/AAAAAAAAS9c/97u0xRX8LJw/s400/codorniz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469144434858804642" border="0" /></a>Now you know what to call a quail when south of the border.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-ZN4qdRDrI/AAAAAAAAS9U/yqOdvFGUris/s1600/venada.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-ZN4qdRDrI/AAAAAAAAS9U/yqOdvFGUris/s400/venada.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469144433353100978" border="0" /></a>It took a bit more work with the various search engines to verify that <span style="font-style: italic;">venada</span> is indeed a word for <span style="font-style: italic;">deer</span> and not just a particular member of the lepidoptra (i.e., <span style="font-style: italic;">una mariposa</span>). In fact, I would venture to guess that it is the preferred word in Mexico, but not in Spain.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-45546052187924404522010-05-06T21:33:00.007-07:002010-05-06T22:09:05.717-07:00Water for a thirsty region<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYnlAPFbI/AAAAAAAAS9E/Bdz5kN8j9NU/s1600/santamaria.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYnlAPFbI/AAAAAAAAS9E/Bdz5kN8j9NU/s400/santamaria.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468382178273334706" border="0" /></a>Water is a precious commodity out here in the arid West -- one reason that these old rusty tanks in the outback are so poignant. The pair are located along the unpaved county road that parallels the Santa Maria River between US93 and the Bagdad Road and I would guess that they are still in use.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYnVypAnI/AAAAAAAAS88/BBeTehpalhs/s1600/santamaria2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 393px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYnVypAnI/AAAAAAAAS88/BBeTehpalhs/s400/santamaria2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468382174189781618" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYmxoSCaI/AAAAAAAAS80/NLP_Sz-Tj_c/s1600/bumblebee.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYmxoSCaI/AAAAAAAAS80/NLP_Sz-Tj_c/s400/bumblebee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468382164482656674" border="0" /></a>Also in the outback: above, in the desert near Bumblebee ... and, below, in the forest near Crown King.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYmsXAEMI/AAAAAAAAS8s/8v873hfQ3eM/s1600/crownking.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYmsXAEMI/AAAAAAAAS8s/8v873hfQ3eM/s400/crownking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468382163067998402" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYWQ-pHtI/AAAAAAAAS8k/jtnLbV1LJ6k/s1600/construction.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYWQ-pHtI/AAAAAAAAS8k/jtnLbV1LJ6k/s400/construction.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468381880840167122" border="0" /></a>Since dust is a no-no per the EPA (even in the Arizona desert -- huh?), portable water tanks are the first sign of a new construction project. The idea is to spray precious water when those bright yellow machines start moving earth.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYWJc8icI/AAAAAAAAS8c/FV0fgLatQ5U/s1600/tanks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 319px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYWJc8icI/AAAAAAAAS8c/FV0fgLatQ5U/s400/tanks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468381878819785154" border="0" /></a>This tank is near the railroad in Hillside; maybe it isn't for water -- but I recall the era of steam locomotives when special water dispensers were strategically located along the track.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYVp_6jJI/AAAAAAAAS8U/Qb5d7xS2fhk/s1600/ashfork.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYVp_6jJI/AAAAAAAAS8U/Qb5d7xS2fhk/s400/ashfork.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468381870376520850" border="0" /></a>Ash Fork's city water tank; the town's water comes from two reservoirs that had been created many years ago to serve the Santa Fe.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OcLNW2wgI/AAAAAAAAS9M/4fwnh0eyRdE/s1600/city+tank.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 333px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OcLNW2wgI/AAAAAAAAS9M/4fwnh0eyRdE/s400/city+tank.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468386088935932418" border="0" /></a>One of several water tanks maintained by the city of Prescott, visible from SR69.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYU3KbQcI/AAAAAAAAS8E/3U8xg0zh5mU/s1600/willowcreek.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S-OYU3KbQcI/AAAAAAAAS8E/3U8xg0zh5mU/s400/willowcreek.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468381856730399170" border="0" /></a>These are also city tanks on a hillside just east of Willow Creek Road. The long zoom shot is from my balcony, where all I can actually see are the tall antennas; when I first viewed the image, I was quite surprised by the water tanks.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-88041295885643611012010-05-03T20:29:00.004-07:002010-05-03T21:21:07.348-07:00Route of the painted rocks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VcIKC7LI/AAAAAAAAS70/K4POCp32gUo/s1600/dells.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VcIKC7LI/AAAAAAAAS70/K4POCp32gUo/s400/dells.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467252783109565618" border="0" /></a>My email brought me a new addition to the collection of big painted rocks you'll find around Yavapai County. This fellow is located somewhere in the Dells -- and I don't know if he is a casual, one-time fancy or an icon who will be renewed for decades. The other important rocks can all be viewed in one big circle route, starting down at Congress.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VbRRYMRI/AAAAAAAAS7s/k_qGaTgxGKo/s1600/frogrockUSE.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 347px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VbRRYMRI/AAAAAAAAS7s/k_qGaTgxGKo/s400/frogrockUSE.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467252768376369426" border="0" /></a>I'm all of 83 -- and I recall <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.zazzle.com/sara_perkins_frog_rock_postcard-239157806873897493">Frog Rock</a>, along SR 89 down by Congress, from my childhood. One tale has it that a homestead wife, Sara Perkins, first painted it in 1926; according to a 1977 story in the AZ Republic, the rock was painted by a part time prospector, ex-sailor, and practical joker deluxe. As befits a folk art, the frog is periodically touched up and/or repainted by unnamed locals.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VbNwuWrI/AAAAAAAAS7k/ZAqvvoXovfY/s1600/skull.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VbNwuWrI/AAAAAAAAS7k/ZAqvvoXovfY/s400/skull.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467252767434103474" border="0" /></a>Once you have started your rock art tour at Frog Rock, turn left a couple of miles down the pike onto the Date Creek Road; it's a well graded dirt road, maintained by the county. A handful of miles in, a huge skull right next to the railroad track will grin at you. As I hear it, the skull is kept in shape by railroad workers. (BTW, the Date Creek at-grade crossing much further along can be dicey after a major snow melt or big downpour.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-cfERpEwI/AAAAAAAAS78/wz534OkOUKA/s1600/duck2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-cfERpEwI/AAAAAAAAS78/wz534OkOUKA/s400/duck2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467260530188686082" border="0" /></a>Continue driving on the Date Creek Road which will eventually take you through the hamlet of <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://walkingprescott.blogspot.com/2008/12/back-in-outback-1-hillside.html">Hillside</a> and thence toward Yava. The duck is out in the middle of the prickly pear among the volcanic rocks off to your right. Past Yava at Kirkland Creek, a right turn in the highway puts you on the Thompson Valley Road to Kirkland, with a left turn onto Iron Springs Road, heading into Prescott via Skull Valley.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VQQFxvlI/AAAAAAAAS7U/hlMjsKPJS5s/s1600/iron+springs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VQQFxvlI/AAAAAAAAS7U/hlMjsKPJS5s/s400/iron+springs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467252579080715858" border="0" /></a>This stela is a feature at the high point on Iron Springs Road, just before the turnoff to Highland Pines. I've no idea of its history; I presume it is a clown. Like the other painted rocks, it is mysteriously maintained.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VPw5NajI/AAAAAAAAS7M/QDn5F1wlx8Q/s1600/elephant.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 326px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VPw5NajI/AAAAAAAAS7M/QDn5F1wlx8Q/s400/elephant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467252570706504242" border="0" /></a>I know, I know -- it's a long, long haul from the top of Iron Springs Road down to the elephant bend on the Yarnell Hill segment of SR89 -- but then, I did declare this to be a great circle route and you're almost back to Frog Rock. Just incidentally, I was told that somebody/bodies recently mucked up the elephant, but that it was put to rights very soon thereafter. My only questions: why the elephant in the first place?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VPdPBAfI/AAAAAAAAS7E/oyAD8VQVZTc/s1600/local.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VPdPBAfI/AAAAAAAAS7E/oyAD8VQVZTc/s400/local.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467252565429256690" border="0" /></a>Here is another set of painted rocks, seen on one of my neighborhood walks. Nothing as elegant as the monumental folk art in the previous pictures, but a nice suprise at that.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VO8Crm0I/AAAAAAAAS68/2Tm4Ecj3pfk/s1600/local2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 295px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9-VO8Crm0I/AAAAAAAAS68/2Tm4Ecj3pfk/s400/local2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467252556519152450" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-53169927427531624302010-04-28T21:00:00.000-07:002010-04-29T21:58:51.594-07:00Prescott's IOOF CemeteryElks. Moose. Eagles. Masons. Modern Woodmen. Knights of Pythias. Odd Fellows. Today one seldom hears mention of these fraternal orders, remnants of a different past, when many people in American towns small and large joined together voluntarily to solve problems -- and enjoy one another's society. <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.amazon.com/Democracy-America-Penguin-Classics-Tocqueville/dp/0140447601/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1272599214&sr=1-2"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">deToqueville</span></a><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.amazon.com/Democracy-America-Penguin-Classics-Tocqueville/dp/0140447601/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1272599214&sr=1-2"> </a>wrote about it in the 19th century; most recently, a pop sociologist produced another book on the great change away from social bonding, <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.amazon.com/Bowling-Alone-Collapse-American-Community/dp/0743203046/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1272599142&sr=8-1">Bowling Alone</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eaM3l5TFI/AAAAAAAAS6k/-AZoLecezfI/s1600/entrance.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 317px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eaM3l5TFI/AAAAAAAAS6k/-AZoLecezfI/s400/entrance.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465006218709388370" border="0" /></a>A quick check of the local yellow pages showed that the Elks, Eagles, Moose and <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.ioof.org/">Odd Fellows</a> are still in business as well as the Masons, though one seldom hears mention. Certainly the heritage remains: the great silvery elk atop the old opera house ... the recently refurbished Knights of Pythias building, one of the oldest in town ... the IOOF cemetery, as well.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eaMqixl_I/AAAAAAAAS6c/x3ihJY4rWu0/s1600/scene.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 327px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eaMqixl_I/AAAAAAAAS6c/x3ihJY4rWu0/s400/scene.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465006215206639602" border="0" /></a>Larger than I had expected, it's located in the hills at the foot of Virginia Street and still accepts burials. None of the famous Prescottonians are interred here, though there is one "friend" of Billy the Kid, John William Young Kinney, a cattle rustler.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eaL3dGVcI/AAAAAAAAS6U/ZusVCwdScHw/s1600/hill+graves.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 372px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eaL3dGVcI/AAAAAAAAS6U/ZusVCwdScHw/s400/hill+graves.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465006201492624834" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eaLuLXybI/AAAAAAAAS6M/dlfwoKAmm0I/s1600/rebeccah.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eaLuLXybI/AAAAAAAAS6M/dlfwoKAmm0I/s400/rebeccah.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465006199002352050" border="0" /></a>Monuments range from the oversized memorial dedicated to the Rebekah women's lodge above to a simple wooden cross erected in 2003.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eZmA9yADI/AAAAAAAAS6E/NIPCMibjWbU/s1600/wooden+cross.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 392px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eZmA9yADI/AAAAAAAAS6E/NIPCMibjWbU/s400/wooden+cross.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465005551210594354" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eZl1A_gaI/AAAAAAAAS58/4PMqjzwBgfE/s1600/many+flowers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 243px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eZl1A_gaI/AAAAAAAAS58/4PMqjzwBgfE/s400/many+flowers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465005548002836898" border="0" /></a>A profusion of color is evidence that this continues as an active burial ground.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eZlVc7epI/AAAAAAAAS50/FSgxXug5Bi4/s1600/child%27s+grave.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 358px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eZlVc7epI/AAAAAAAAS50/FSgxXug5Bi4/s400/child%27s+grave.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465005539530078866" border="0" /></a>Above -- a child's grave; below, the tragic story of one family's loss. Visit an old cemetery to be reminded the high death rate of youngsters a century ago.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9pP_hU5MtI/AAAAAAAAS6s/l7gV1-eaOSo/s1600/3+kids.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9pP_hU5MtI/AAAAAAAAS6s/l7gV1-eaOSo/s400/3+kids.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465769050463875794" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eZko7A3eI/AAAAAAAAS5k/dlb5TNy8WJE/s1600/honest+brave.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 395px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eZko7A3eI/AAAAAAAAS5k/dlb5TNy8WJE/s400/honest+brave.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465005527576665570" border="0" /></a>Guy was Honest. Brave. True. What about Hannie, his wife?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eY8DGBtsI/AAAAAAAAS5c/_73dp4vtB9c/s1600/3+crosses.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eY8DGBtsI/AAAAAAAAS5c/_73dp4vtB9c/s400/3+crosses.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465004830227543746" border="0" /></a>Another simple, homemade cross.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eY7ysU2sI/AAAAAAAAS5U/OHuRYXsRcF8/s1600/angels.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eY7ysU2sI/AAAAAAAAS5U/OHuRYXsRcF8/s400/angels.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465004825824778946" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eY7h9SryI/AAAAAAAAS5M/w5K-7DqTzr4/s1600/shovel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 324px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eY7h9SryI/AAAAAAAAS5M/w5K-7DqTzr4/s400/shovel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465004821332537122" border="0" /></a>Is this, perhaps, a shovel -- symbolizing a life spent in the mines? Below, a flagstone memorial.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eY7A46ZeI/AAAAAAAAS5E/mW2nMyfdD3s/s1600/flagstone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 337px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eY7A46ZeI/AAAAAAAAS5E/mW2nMyfdD3s/s400/flagstone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465004812455798242" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eY60T-O3I/AAAAAAAAS48/6JD1NOo6xns/s1600/doghouse.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 375px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eY60T-O3I/AAAAAAAAS48/6JD1NOo6xns/s400/doghouse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465004809079634802" border="0" /></a>More information about this grave marker will be found among <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7388762@N03/sets/72157620228114032/">this group of photos</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eYhpA8xoI/AAAAAAAAS40/6gHOuo-wnZg/s1600/jesus+USE.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 360px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eYhpA8xoI/AAAAAAAAS40/6gHOuo-wnZg/s400/jesus+USE.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465004376550327938" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eYhU5H3MI/AAAAAAAAS4s/JJuHCXJPnsE/s1600/deer.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 374px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eYhU5H3MI/AAAAAAAAS4s/JJuHCXJPnsE/s400/deer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465004371148790978" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eYg3GiRuI/AAAAAAAAS4k/YGQSL2wnlyE/s1600/newgrave.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 238px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eYg3GiRuI/AAAAAAAAS4k/YGQSL2wnlyE/s400/newgrave.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465004363151984354" border="0" /></a>Here, a freshly dug grave.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eYguQkEII/AAAAAAAAS4c/P3tc-MRUUb4/s1600/silouettes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eYguQkEII/AAAAAAAAS4c/P3tc-MRUUb4/s400/silouettes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465004360778125442" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eYgYKUdqI/AAAAAAAAS4U/qtvOc8yKww4/s1600/raven.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 336px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9eYgYKUdqI/AAAAAAAAS4U/qtvOc8yKww4/s400/raven.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465004354846357154" border="0" /></a>And the raven who presides over it all.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-65978618522895779752010-04-24T11:50:00.004-07:002010-04-24T12:05:13.852-07:00The old flume -- then & now<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9M-VKTJV7I/AAAAAAAAS30/HKLY_nTxLSA/s1600/oldpostcard.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9M-VKTJV7I/AAAAAAAAS30/HKLY_nTxLSA/s400/oldpostcard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463779306193377202" border="0" /></a>Friend Andy C. sent this image of an old postcard entitled simply "an irrigation system near Prescott Arizona". He believes it is the original flume carrying water from Willow Creek in the Dells to the Bianconi Ranch. A brief history he passed along:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9M-Usmiv-I/AAAAAAAAS3s/Hsqc2yUDVvo/s1600/modernflume.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 327px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9M-Usmiv-I/AAAAAAAAS3s/Hsqc2yUDVvo/s400/modernflume.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463779298221670370" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">This property may have been owned by Joseph Curtis who grew peaches and melons prior to sale to Alfred Clough in 1877. Sharlot Hall Museum has photos of vineyards, apple trees, and a fishing lake on the Clough property. He died in 1908 and the ranch was bought by John Bianconi. Bianconi had the largest peach orchard in the state here (34 a) and produced many other crops. The Bianconi Brothers won many ribbons at the Arizona State Fair and the Northern Arizona Fair (later YC Fair). The flume was present by 1911. In 1936 when the Willow Lake Dam was built, Bianconi sued and received an award of water from the Chino Valley Irrigation District. This was all for naught, as his peach trees caught peach mosaic and were destroyed to prevent spread of the disease. The ranch was sold to a cattle rancher in 1941 and was bought by Robert H. Kieckhefer about 1950</span>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9M-UBs-_gI/AAAAAAAAS3k/O3ku3xsGgV4/s1600/overall.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 321px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9M-UBs-_gI/AAAAAAAAS3k/O3ku3xsGgV4/s400/overall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463779286705962498" border="0" /></a>The remains I photographed last fall are the final bones of the flume system.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-66912606633097627522010-04-22T14:15:00.011-07:002010-04-23T01:47:14.288-07:00Elderly housing notes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C-GEpj7FI/AAAAAAAAS3c/cP16nz-3TBY/s1600/bradshaws.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C-GEpj7FI/AAAAAAAAS3c/cP16nz-3TBY/s400/bradshaws.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463075359536966738" border="0" /></a>One of the views from my window: The Bradshaw, a subsidized apartment complex for the elderly. It's about to grow to fill an empty acre or two to the rear...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C-FdAqdmI/AAAAAAAAS3U/_VMHfFdHQRE/s1600/logs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 366px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C-FdAqdmI/AAAAAAAAS3U/_VMHfFdHQRE/s400/logs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463075348896446050" border="0" /></a>...where a small version of those ubiquitous yellow earth moving machines was out and about recently, digging up the bush. Next day, I spotted a former tree...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C91bwtRrI/AAAAAAAAS3M/Jp-8ZV_9bMQ/s1600/logs+close.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 323px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C91bwtRrI/AAAAAAAAS3M/Jp-8ZV_9bMQ/s400/logs+close.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463075073683179186" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C908KDmLI/AAAAAAAAS3E/CKPuif0ZwDY/s1600/detritus.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C908KDmLI/AAAAAAAAS3E/CKPuif0ZwDY/s400/detritus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463075065199564978" border="0" /></a>...and a heap of the usual detritus that spontaneously erupts on vacant land.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C90Mc-ZzI/AAAAAAAAS28/PaX2HXvteI0/s1600/hunkered.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 371px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C90Mc-ZzI/AAAAAAAAS28/PaX2HXvteI0/s400/hunkered.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463075052394014514" border="0" /></a>The following morning, the smallish machine was hunkered down behind a wall of diggings, which it began to attack as soon as it awakened.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9zmdkxeI/AAAAAAAAS20/A9ToS_NREWE/s1600/long+dirt+pile.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 236px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9zmdkxeI/AAAAAAAAS20/A9ToS_NREWE/s400/long+dirt+pile.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463075042195981794" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9zfgjq_I/AAAAAAAAS2s/cKDmcNywF5g/s1600/2+machines.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 235px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9zfgjq_I/AAAAAAAAS2s/cKDmcNywF5g/s400/2+machines.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463075040329444338" border="0" /></a>More machines later, more earth was being moved from a heap here to a pile there.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9dtEd8xI/AAAAAAAAS2k/OobQNOXJgVY/s1600/saur+%26+white.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9dtEd8xI/AAAAAAAAS2k/OobQNOXJgVY/s400/saur+%26+white.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463074666012603154" border="0" /></a>The white truck? An amenity -- once in a while it squirts water (below) to keep the dust in line. Wonder how much that adds to the cost of the project...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9dEal48I/AAAAAAAAS2c/06ISH7z1l9Q/s1600/spray.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9dEal48I/AAAAAAAAS2c/06ISH7z1l9Q/s400/spray.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463074655099544514" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9c4fI2ZI/AAAAAAAAS2U/ViqdTJcEdN4/s1600/dumping.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 335px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9c4fI2ZI/AAAAAAAAS2U/ViqdTJcEdN4/s400/dumping.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463074651897387410" border="0" /></a>Gotcha -- took several tries to catch the shovel dumping!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9cfiiAUI/AAAAAAAAS2M/dLIeHiDW4Tk/s1600/las+fuentes1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 227px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9cfiiAUI/AAAAAAAAS2M/dLIeHiDW4Tk/s400/las+fuentes1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463074645200732482" border="0" /></a>While on the topic of senior housing: in February my zoom lens nearly gave me a decent hint of what's happening near Las Fuentes at Canterbury Lane, where a <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.prescottenews.com/news/current-news/senior-housing-key-topic-for-prescott-council-1802">project called The Boulders</a> might be underway. That would be my interpretation of the tall mounds of earth plus two hints of earth-moving yellow equipment to the right. Sorry for all the <span style="font-style: italic;">guesswork</span>, but our local paper doesn't follow through on projects once details are nailed down to the satisfaction of building & zoning officials.<br /><br />All of which led me to further checking. Weren't there other senior housing plans afoot? The answer, yes. <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.dcourier.com/main.asp?Search=1&ArticleID=79680&SectionID=74&SubSectionID=114&S=1">Highgate Senior Living Community</a> in Prescott Lakes. A big expansion of <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.dcourier.com/main.asp?Search=1&ArticleID=65434&SectionID=1&SubSectionID=1&S=1">Granite Gate</a> in the Dells. Plus a <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.dcourier.com/main.asp?Search=1&ArticleID=69240&SectionID=1&SubSectionID=1&S=1">major complex on the JC Ranch</a> property in Chino Valley. Sound like a lot of competition for the senior $$$; perhaps the investors anticipate an influx of Californians seeking lower cost quarters in Arizona. Or just maybe one or more of these projects will evaporate as did those Montezuma/Goodwin corner condos.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9b3zGUZI/AAAAAAAAS2E/Wgdkjg0gWTs/s1600/las+fuentes+close.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S9C9b3zGUZI/AAAAAAAAS2E/Wgdkjg0gWTs/s400/las+fuentes+close.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463074634532802962" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-44107634396234365312010-04-18T14:46:00.008-07:002010-04-22T20:41:51.716-07:00Wicker crittersAs a young girl, I wrapped myself up in the Oz books. Read and reread them. Even so, I did not really understand about the amoral sorcerer who lived in a wickerwork castle, surrounded with everything wickerwork. I guess I was too shy to ask what was this stuff, <span style="font-style: italic;">wickerwork</span>. Certainly mysterious. No Google for a quick look-up, either.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-mfKBxyI/AAAAAAAAS18/ONxmKy2wZfw/s1600/dog.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 354px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-mfKBxyI/AAAAAAAAS18/ONxmKy2wZfw/s400/dog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461598172780545826" border="0" /></a>However, I'm happy to note that I'm older, wiser -- and fond of wickerwork! On my first visit to The Periodot, I was quite taken with this dog. Since that day, I've met an excellent wicker collection of critters.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-mMO43qI/AAAAAAAAS10/_czqFwYMNM8/s1600/rabbit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-mMO43qI/AAAAAAAAS10/_czqFwYMNM8/s400/rabbit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461598167700659874" border="0" /></a>Not only are there similar dogs lurking about the public spaces, but also several rabbits.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-dktTJCI/AAAAAAAAS1s/UKNRGizi1yk/s1600/dog:monkey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-dktTJCI/AAAAAAAAS1s/UKNRGizi1yk/s400/dog:monkey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461598019651839010" border="0" /></a>At one staircase landing, a wicker monkey rides the back of a wicker dog.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-dceUeaI/AAAAAAAAS1k/i2BFHXVNZK0/s1600/bird.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 378px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-dceUeaI/AAAAAAAAS1k/i2BFHXVNZK0/s400/bird.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461598017441528226" border="0" /></a>This bird sits in the midst of a geranium plant at the entry way...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-dA6BKJI/AAAAAAAAS1c/IOQd11lmkw8/s1600/monkey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-dA6BKJI/AAAAAAAAS1c/IOQd11lmkw8/s400/monkey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461598010041510034" border="0" /></a>...in the company of this monkey.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-cvTAeTI/AAAAAAAAS1U/tGd_JeA1ZX0/s1600/monkey+head.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 368px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-cvTAeTI/AAAAAAAAS1U/tGd_JeA1ZX0/s400/monkey+head.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461598005314484530" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-cb53--I/AAAAAAAAS1M/8Z9hheRjiCc/s1600/geranium.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 358px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8t-cb53--I/AAAAAAAAS1M/8Z9hheRjiCc/s400/geranium.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461598000108796898" border="0" /></a>And, why not! That geranium is in full bloom. It's spring, after all!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Linkage</span><span style="font-style: italic;">: Derek, who charts </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://sharlot.org/archives/maps/trailmaps/">all the local trails</a><span style="font-style: italic;">, is now posting pictures as he checks out the routes; he reports that a </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://mustbefunny.org/trailtours/triplog.htm">new beaver dam</a><span style="font-style: italic;"> has appeared up at the Verde headwaters. And, if you're into cats, take a look at all the videos at </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://www.simonscat.com/">Simon's Cat</a><span style="font-style: italic;">. Another video, a spectacular <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.mcwetboy.net/maproom/2010/04/eyjafjallajoeku_1.php">animation of the ashes</a> spreading from that Icelandic volcano.<br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-60785226859313140222010-04-16T20:27:00.005-07:002010-04-16T21:15:26.917-07:00The view from Bradshaw DriveYou would think that with all the wandering and exploring my husband and I did over our years in this area, we might have taken a look at the southeast quadrant of Prescott -- that turf south of Gurley, east of the Senator Highway. The reality is that we were not particularly interested in housing developments -- in fact, tended to sniff at them. So, it was a new experience when one of my friends and I followed up the IOOF cemetery/Acker Park visit by checking out the hilly neighborhoods. Bradshaw Drive is the major route, but be sure to enjoy it driving downhill to see the sites:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8krgyP-e6I/AAAAAAAAS1E/6uMpFLBVrAo/s1600/peaks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8krgyP-e6I/AAAAAAAAS1E/6uMpFLBVrAo/s400/peaks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460943865408027554" border="0" /></a>For instance, a great view of The Peaks 90 miles north.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8kraoaAY7I/AAAAAAAAS08/twlZzSqU0t4/s1600/crop+top.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 323px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8kraoaAY7I/AAAAAAAAS08/twlZzSqU0t4/s400/crop+top.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460943759686525874" border="0" /></a>Or the cropped hilltop next the Senator Highway. Is that a sled run going straight downhill there?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8kraUQChKI/AAAAAAAAS00/VgSO7kXk9K0/s1600/curve.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8kraUQChKI/AAAAAAAAS00/VgSO7kXk9K0/s400/curve.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460943754276013218" border="0" /></a>Prescott opens up to the north.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8krZxuzZbI/AAAAAAAAS0s/DSYPuhtBXw0/s1600/pridot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8krZxuzZbI/AAAAAAAAS0s/DSYPuhtBXw0/s400/pridot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460943745009804722" border="0" /></a>One of two facilities for the aged located on Bradshaw -- the crenelations of The Peridot. A recently built subsidized rental complex is just around the corner; it will soon have additional buildings.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8krZgKTulI/AAAAAAAAS0k/VgFIFGE3Yyk/s1600/hillside+houses.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 307px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8krZgKTulI/AAAAAAAAS0k/VgFIFGE3Yyk/s400/hillside+houses.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460943740293331538" border="0" /></a>Houses clinging to the hillsides are a feature -- neither lawn nor garden friendly real estate.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8krZJknVqI/AAAAAAAAS0c/YO9gPxXogWU/s1600/homestead.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 245px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S8krZJknVqI/AAAAAAAAS0c/YO9gPxXogWU/s400/homestead.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460943734229653154" border="0" /></a>Unexpectedly, in the middle of this upscale modernity, we turned a curve to see this remnant of earlier days. The old Tenney homestead, I am told. A nostalgic reminder of a nearly buried past.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-62057092671638991672010-04-09T20:29:00.009-07:002010-04-09T21:09:16.599-07:00Art out at Acker<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yQsuLFNI/AAAAAAAAS0U/MVAPLZSJ8Aw/s1600/MM+at+work.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 372px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yQsuLFNI/AAAAAAAAS0U/MVAPLZSJ8Aw/s400/MM+at+work.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458347642092983506" border="0" /></a>The Mural Mice are at it again. This time the object of their attention is the lonely <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.dcourier.com/main.asp?SectionID=256&SubSectionID=1111&ArticleID=79663">loo building out at Acker Park</a> over at the foot of Virginia Street. The little structure is getting painted on all four sides, as a matter of fact.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yQQbQKUI/AAAAAAAAS0M/9i2ud-IjTY0/s1600/mouse+%26+door.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 311px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yQQbQKUI/AAAAAAAAS0M/9i2ud-IjTY0/s400/mouse+%26+door.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458347634497431874" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yGsGXTPI/AAAAAAAAS0E/Bct8Yyl86jk/s1600/mouse%26+art.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yGsGXTPI/AAAAAAAAS0E/Bct8Yyl86jk/s400/mouse%26+art.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458347470127320306" border="0" /></a>Subject matter: local flora and fauna found in the 80-acre park. Including, of course, a mouse.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yGEtNu0I/AAAAAAAASz8/UmYeJdYe40g/s1600/mm+close.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 380px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yGEtNu0I/AAAAAAAASz8/UmYeJdYe40g/s400/mm+close.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458347459552852802" border="0" /></a>Here is one of the two key Mural Mice; the other was busy at the corner of the building (below).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yFyiJeeI/AAAAAAAASz0/djU5yA0fzAw/s1600/othr+MM.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yFyiJeeI/AAAAAAAASz0/djU5yA0fzAw/s400/othr+MM.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458347454674598370" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yFs_TR7I/AAAAAAAASzs/rXPtcOr6MKo/s1600/onlooker.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 311px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yFs_TR7I/AAAAAAAASzs/rXPtcOr6MKo/s400/onlooker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458347453186262962" border="0" /></a>Even though we were there on a week day, folks were gathering to see what was going on. We stopped for pictures after friend and I had recorded the nearby IOOF Cemetery.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yFYhsDgI/AAAAAAAASzk/tQRnBW1iLwQ/s1600/onlookers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 327px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_yFYhsDgI/AAAAAAAASzk/tQRnBW1iLwQ/s400/onlookers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458347447693348354" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_xhj0HtZI/AAAAAAAASzU/fygINV9ec8M/s1600/northend.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_xhj0HtZI/AAAAAAAASzU/fygINV9ec8M/s400/northend.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458346832248157586" border="0" /></a>As I noted earlier, all four sides of the building will be decorated.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_xhBB64LI/AAAAAAAASzM/1yZa8ZxK6rQ/s1600/rear+of+bldg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_xhBB64LI/AAAAAAAASzM/1yZa8ZxK6rQ/s400/rear+of+bldg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458346822910795954" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_xg2f0QgI/AAAAAAAASzE/ziEsZeh_lLk/s1600/southend.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 311px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_xg2f0QgI/AAAAAAAASzE/ziEsZeh_lLk/s400/southend.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458346820083401218" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_xgSXO4vI/AAAAAAAASy8/NHpBO5eZoTQ/s1600/weebanner2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_xgSXO4vI/AAAAAAAASy8/NHpBO5eZoTQ/s400/weebanner2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458346810383721202" border="0" /></a>As for the little bannerettes you may have noticed, here's what they look like close up.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_xv_ohw3I/AAAAAAAASzc/EWLUBmldaCQ/s1600/weebanner1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7_xv_ohw3I/AAAAAAAASzc/EWLUBmldaCQ/s400/weebanner1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458347080233894770" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Linkage</span><span style="font-style: italic;">: An interesting demo of </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://www.oddcast.com/home/demos/tts/tts_example.php?sitepal">text to speech here</a><span style="font-style: italic;">. And, millions of miles away, an </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/badastronomy/2010/04/08/martian-avalanche-crashes-the-party/">avalanche -- on Mars</a><span style="font-style: italic;">, to be specific. Desert Cat takes a short hike near his Tucson area hideaway and discovers </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://desertcat.blogspot.com/2010/04/more-spring-sproinging.html">lots of desert wildflowers</a><span style="font-style: italic;">, Tombo <href="http: com="" 2010="" 04="" html=""><a href="http://tombocheck.blogspot.com/2010/04/trip-to-grand-canyon.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">hikes the Grand Canyon</span></a> and Book Journey, a new Prescott<span style="font-style: italic;"> area blog, </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://bookjourneysaz.blogspot.com/2010/04/alligator-juniper-trees.html">discovers the alligator juniper</a><span style="font-style: italic;">.</span></href="http:></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-11557217652719800632010-04-06T20:46:00.004-07:002010-04-06T22:12:13.299-07:00The last of that lion!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7wAW_iztJI/AAAAAAAASyU/6VTeGIpTie0/s1600/lion.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7wAW_iztJI/AAAAAAAASyU/6VTeGIpTie0/s400/lion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457237243480749202" border="0" /></a>Remember those <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://walkingprescott.blogspot.com/2010/03/local-lion-unknown-provenance.html">fine lion pictures</a>, claiming to be from Prescott? Guess what! The dotter came across this <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/2010/03/22/funny-pictures-feeding-her/">LOL Cats item</a>, which suggests that those pictures could be from any place in North America with aspen and pine trees. Too bad -- I did so want the pix to be local! And we definitely have cougars in our area, unlike many places where such emails have circulated.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7wAWaM_7_I/AAAAAAAASyM/Cwbp_mOxCpA/s1600/hungry+deer.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7wAWaM_7_I/AAAAAAAASyM/Cwbp_mOxCpA/s400/hungry+deer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457237233457164274" border="0" /></a>However, here's an image guaranteed to be local because I know the photographer. Let it serve as a warning about how high to locate your bird feeders!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-31202345817185991352010-04-03T16:31:00.005-07:002010-04-04T18:54:45.758-07:00Cemetery project: Del Rio<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7fQDjP7IBI/AAAAAAAASyE/jM_sdu6sIIE/s1600/26956_1288844295253_1054562570_30691596_6399893_n-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7fQDjP7IBI/AAAAAAAASyE/jM_sdu6sIIE/s400/26956_1288844295253_1054562570_30691596_6399893_n-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456058233002860562" border="0" /></a>Actually, this is by way of introduction to a project that I and a buddy are considering. The picture was lent to me by another friend who's part of a project to locate the bounds of the small graveyard on private land just north of Chino Valley. According to Bobbi, <span style="font-style: italic;">the CV Historical Society is going to Del Rio Ranch, site of the first provisional capitol of the AZ Territory. We are going to try to find the perimeter of the graveyard and mark it so we can eventually fence it and keep the cows off it. There are only 3 graves marked and there are 67 names on record</span>. (Perhaps cows will be the least of their worries, as I understand that the town of CV has reached an agreement that will allow development of at least some of the Del Rio property.) But back to the subject matter: friend Andy and I are going to locate and photograph a few of the Prescott area cemeteries, starting with the IOOF grounds.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-55284616209722445502010-03-31T12:09:00.006-07:002010-03-31T21:18:30.689-07:00Sunshine yellow<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7PGentaFfI/AAAAAAAASx8/T4SUfwYjoUI/s1600/sofa.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7PGentaFfI/AAAAAAAASx8/T4SUfwYjoUI/s400/sofa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454921803033613810" border="0" /></a>Tomorrow, so I am told, will be dreary with a chance for yet another snow. Reason enough for a yellow post. Already fellow bloggers are posting their own yellows -- predominantly daffodils, but also wild poppies and desert primrose, not to mention early-blooming forsythia.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7PGeXpm5jI/AAAAAAAASx0/L5Bz-ACkgBQ/s1600/table+chairs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7PGeXpm5jI/AAAAAAAASx0/L5Bz-ACkgBQ/s400/table+chairs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454921798722709042" border="0" /></a>When I moved, the yellow upholstered furniture was a pleasant surprise, located in a day room in the middle of a long hallway at my new apartment building. Usually, such furniture is covered in rust colors or perhaps plum -- dark and gloomy, but certainly easier to maintain. But I much prefer the yellow; gives my spirits a lift every time I see it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7PGdpLyvII/AAAAAAAASxs/Fi4l1pf6his/s1600/easy+chairs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 351px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7PGdpLyvII/AAAAAAAASxs/Fi4l1pf6his/s400/easy+chairs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454921786249624706" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-23346072063063966052010-03-29T14:28:00.008-07:002010-03-30T14:40:23.169-07:00End of an era<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7Eb2WJzwiI/AAAAAAAASxM/bSRKSs0gz4U/s1600/long.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7Eb2WJzwiI/AAAAAAAASxM/bSRKSs0gz4U/s400/long.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454171244195988002" border="0" /></a>This bleak sight is from my Christmas trip down Tucson way. Not really much to say about the graffiti-covered portable sales office out in the midst of a one-time cotton field whose owners thought to cash in on the big real estate boom. That's why they turned off the irrigation -- hence the acreage of dust.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7Eb114pIBI/AAAAAAAASxE/ORLv3TmJi-c/s1600/medium.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 261px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7Eb114pIBI/AAAAAAAASxE/ORLv3TmJi-c/s400/medium.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454171235534053394" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7Ebt8GnYGI/AAAAAAAASw8/on6I5-9Frho/s1600/sign+USE.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S7Ebt8GnYGI/AAAAAAAASw8/on6I5-9Frho/s400/sign+USE.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454171099764318306" border="0" /></a>Otherwise, there'd be a covering of desert scrub. Sad.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Linking for Your Pleasure</span><span style="font-style: italic;">: Geology has produced all kinds of remarkable eye candy, but Rich has a favorite location up near Page that </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://blog.richcharpentier.com/2010/03/the-white-pocket-workshop-dry-run/">has to be seen to be believed</a><span style="font-style: italic;">. Also difficult to believe is what can be done, sculpture-wise with the </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://blog.makezine.com/archive/2010/03/math_monday_paper_plate_geometry.html">plain old paper plate</a><span style="font-style: italic;">. Now I know that we have all kinds of folks here in Prescott, but this one really grabbed me: a new local </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://www.meetup.com/">Meet-Up group</a><span style="font-style: italic;"> has been formed to </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://www.meetup.com/Prescott-Tango/">practice the tango</a><span style="font-style: italic;">, that smouldering Argentinian dance form.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-65810926924885601462010-03-23T10:56:00.006-07:002010-03-23T11:21:56.465-07:00Local lion; unknown provenance<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6kBC59JDrI/AAAAAAAASus/MbpXyuTsbNA/s1600-h/catlooking1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 361px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6kBC59JDrI/AAAAAAAASus/MbpXyuTsbNA/s400/catlooking1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451889973337329330" border="0" /></a>If the subject were Barry's birthplace or did that UFO <span style="font-style: italic;">really, really</span> land atop the Washington Monument, I could check in with <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://snopes.com/">Snopes</a>. Not so when the email subject is so very local; I can't imagine how the intertubes' resident truth seekers would ever get involved in such a parochial email subject as a mountain lion appearing on someone's doorstoop in Prescott.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6kBCReHt5I/AAAAAAAASuk/BOpqSPDTJwI/s1600-h/catlooking2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 358px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6kBCReHt5I/AAAAAAAASuk/BOpqSPDTJwI/s400/catlooking2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451889962469799826" border="0" /></a>In any event, I was among many receiving an email with these excellent pictures. It explained, <span style="font-style: italic;">this big cat's picture was taken a few weeks back right outside of a home in Prescott, Arizona. Our two labs had been barking and doing all sorts of unusual things so we had just opened the door and let them inside. Now we know why they were going crazy. We were about to call someone when the animal disappeared. It took about 24 hrs. for our dogs to get relaxed.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6kBCCssohI/AAAAAAAASuc/f5VevF3O3XY/s1600-h/cat+lying.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 315px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6kBCCssohI/AAAAAAAASuc/f5VevF3O3XY/s400/cat+lying.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451889958504407570" border="0" /></a>Hoping to get 1) permission to use the photos and 2) possible info about the neighborhood where the cat visited, I did a follow-up email to my source. Turns out I am at the end of a long line of forwards, with no way of knowing the truth.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6kBBuhZjwI/AAAAAAAASuU/6V7_PNmYIY8/s1600-h/cat+leaving.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6kBBuhZjwI/AAAAAAAASuU/6V7_PNmYIY8/s400/cat+leaving.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451889953088311042" border="0" /></a>All I can say is that sightings of pumas happen regularly hereabouts and that the house and surround look as though they might well be in Prescott. And, hey, it's a cool set of pictures!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6kBBfipXjI/AAAAAAAASuM/3oD5E7T1ryY/s1600-h/longshot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 351px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6kBBfipXjI/AAAAAAAASuM/3oD5E7T1ryY/s400/longshot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451889949067009586" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-30969676092043498852010-03-20T19:10:00.005-07:002010-03-20T20:05:38.625-07:00Where there's smoke...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6WAMyW6pdI/AAAAAAAASuE/lYCq3cBU6Co/s1600-h/lede.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6WAMyW6pdI/AAAAAAAASuE/lYCq3cBU6Co/s400/lede.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450903881166530002" border="0" /></a>The other morning, I looked out my window on the side of the hill to this sight, part way up the hills to the north of the bowl that holds Prescott. Living in the dry Southwest, smoke is scary. Living where the skies are clear, smoke is very evident, from miles away.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6WAMqSL4mI/AAAAAAAASt8/ZPh6nzZecFo/s1600-h/smoke+spreading.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 251px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6WAMqSL4mI/AAAAAAAASt8/ZPh6nzZecFo/s400/smoke+spreading.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450903878999204450" border="0" /></a>The smoke had already drifted well to the east of its origin. Fortunately, within maybe 20 minutes, the fire was completely out and the air was clearing. A closer shot suggests that whatever was burning was just up the hill from the old officers' houses at Whipple (below).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6WAL84BM5I/AAAAAAAASt0/zcc9Z8FTbYk/s1600-h/close.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6WAL84BM5I/AAAAAAAASt0/zcc9Z8FTbYk/s400/close.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450903866809856914" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">The Arizona Snow Pack</span><span style="font-style: italic;">: What an El Nino we've had! Take a look at them </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://www.accuweather.com/blogs/clark/story/26308/a-look-at-the-western-snowpack-1.asp">purple mountain majesties on this map</a><span style="font-style: italic;">, representing as they do a big winter for snow in our fair state. I'm told that Flag has had about 10 feet this year, not quite an all time high but almost. See what you've missed by moving to Alaska, dotter? </span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-38017282778111501192010-03-16T16:56:00.004-07:002010-03-16T19:50:01.507-07:00Design on 89<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6AbLuIuZ7I/AAAAAAAASts/SAYtXlCJWbI/s1600-h/ovrtview.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6AbLuIuZ7I/AAAAAAAASts/SAYtXlCJWbI/s400/ovrtview.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449385437295437746" border="0" /></a>These days, a highway project is not a completed project without the art work. Our new SR69/89 overpass is a good example. According to the <span style="font-style: italic;">Courier</span>, members of the local Yavapai Indian tribe were among those <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://prescottaz.com/main.asp?Search=1&ArticleID=59798&SectionID=1&SubSectionID=1&S=1">consulted about the designs</a>. "The tribe wanted to show its cultural heritage and the city wanted pine trees," an ADOT spokesman told the paper.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6AbLfedikI/AAAAAAAAStk/EjIvezKsSeg/s1600-h/hiway+sign.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6AbLfedikI/AAAAAAAAStk/EjIvezKsSeg/s400/hiway+sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449385433360075330" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6AbK6UjhBI/AAAAAAAAStc/44Y2WXsKC04/s1600-h/inside:outside.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 307px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6AbK6UjhBI/AAAAAAAAStc/44Y2WXsKC04/s400/inside:outside.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449385423386412050" border="0" /></a>The big circular designs are based upon Yavapai basketwork; I would guess that the frieze along the top represents the pine trees favored by the city fathers.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6AbKkmanEI/AAAAAAAAStU/XkPq2r-2RA8/s1600-h/deer.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 369px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S6AbKkmanEI/AAAAAAAAStU/XkPq2r-2RA8/s400/deer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449385417555745858" border="0" /></a>The deer is the one member of a chase scene on the side of the overpass that I've been able to photograph. The entire lot, best seen driving in from the north, consists of a mountain lion trailing behind the deer, who is following a coyote with a roadrunner out front. Unfortunately, all the designs are on the outside of the structure; if one is motoring into the city from Phoenix on SR 69, none of the artwork is visible!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-90084091853630082022010-03-12T15:16:00.003-07:002010-03-12T16:58:50.536-07:00Siesta<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5q9bEM2_1I/AAAAAAAAStM/xfOALPAqRWg/s1600-h/javelina1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5q9bEM2_1I/AAAAAAAAStM/xfOALPAqRWg/s400/javelina1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447874971939831634" border="0" /></a>There I was, thinking it might be time for a critter blog ... when what should come my way but an email titled <span style="font-style: italic;">Nap Time</span>, complete with pictures (above, below). Pix from friend Bob. Where were they, I ask. Oh, in our front yard, friend Bob answers. Regular readers already recognize the four as <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.azgfd.gov/w_c/urban_javelina.shtml">young adult javelina</a>, western hemisphere first (or second) cousin to Eurasia's wild boar. If your property happens to be on a regular route used by a small pack, you might discover a cozy napping spot hollowed out in the ground and, with real luck, occupants.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5q9a-I4mxI/AAAAAAAAStE/b_QnyZAn3hU/s1600-h/javelina2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 247px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5q9a-I4mxI/AAAAAAAAStE/b_QnyZAn3hU/s400/javelina2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447874970312547090" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-6438586981494315452010-03-09T19:26:00.008-07:002010-03-09T20:49:32.390-07:00Back in the outback2: Kirkland<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cFRaPIriI/AAAAAAAASsc/ohYByWQQnP0/s1600-h/entran+windmill.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cFRaPIriI/AAAAAAAASsc/ohYByWQQnP0/s400/entran+windmill.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446828070986624546" border="0" /></a>The trouble with photojournalism is that sometimes the pictures force the direction of the story. In this case, literally. Simply put, I can't think of a better entrance to the village of Kirkland than this curve in the road heading back to Prescott from Bagdad and the west country of Yavapai County. So be it. If you decide to visit one of the last cowboy bars in these parts, no doubt you'd be coming from the other direction, down from Skull Valley via Iron Springs Road.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cFQgsgd-I/AAAAAAAASsU/yhLkgeKDCJk/s1600-h/school1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cFQgsgd-I/AAAAAAAASsU/yhLkgeKDCJk/s400/school1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446828055540561890" border="0" /></a>Kirkland is important enough as the site of an elementary school serving territory as far away as Walnut Grove and Wilhoit; student population, 59 kids. In fact, as a sometime property owner in that turf, I can tell you that the school district property taxes are higher than in Prescott! An aside: that distinctive mountain in the background of the picture below is, you guessed it, Kirkland Peak.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cFQaiJ6ZI/AAAAAAAASsM/kuXTX_rtyFQ/s1600-h/school2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 310px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cFQaiJ6ZI/AAAAAAAASsM/kuXTX_rtyFQ/s400/school2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446828053886527890" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cFP4nFPNI/AAAAAAAASsE/e2lkASmFTow/s1600-h/rr+crossing.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cFP4nFPNI/AAAAAAAASsE/e2lkASmFTow/s400/rr+crossing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446828044780387538" border="0" /></a>The Phoenix-Ash Fork railroad line runs through Kirkland, where some maintenance materials are stored alongside the spur tracks.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cE_GjPthI/AAAAAAAASr8/qfTvt9Jz8ts/s1600-h/tufa+pair.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 257px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cE_GjPthI/AAAAAAAASr8/qfTvt9Jz8ts/s400/tufa+pair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446827756464616978" border="0" /></a>A pair of small tufa buildings at the intersection of Iron Springs Road and the highway from SR89 is a distinctive sight in Kirkland. The building to the right served as the post office for many years; I've no idea what might be the story of the building to the left. (To any geologists reading this post, I want you to know that I am aware that <span style="font-style: italic;">tufa</span> properly refers to a particular type of limestone deposit, whereas the Kirkland area <span style="font-style: italic;">tufa</span> is actually volcanic tuff. However, locally it is called <span style="font-style: italic;">tufa</span>. There's even a one-time <span style="font-style: italic;">tufa</span> mine up the road a piece.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cE-pFaf7I/AAAAAAAASr0/TqcFMt1QMe0/s1600-h/trailercourt.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cE-pFaf7I/AAAAAAAASr0/TqcFMt1QMe0/s400/trailercourt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446827748554866610" border="0" /></a>My guess would be that most of Kirkland's actual resident population lives in the trailer court; there is only a handful of small houses in town (one of which we almost bought before moving to Arizona).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cE-Ck02oI/AAAAAAAASrs/IajzoyT95Sg/s1600-h/saloonUSE.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cE-Ck02oI/AAAAAAAASrs/IajzoyT95Sg/s400/saloonUSE.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446827738217634434" border="0" /></a>Focal point of the town -- and an important institution for the entire surrounding area -- the Kirkland bar, cafe, and hotel. It's been some years since I was last in the saloon, but at that time, it was definitely a boondocks cowboy bar, with a dance every Saturday night. The for-sale sign is, I am told, a permanent fixture.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cE9-QhEUI/AAAAAAAASrk/gsUE4NaZ7k4/s1600-h/for+sale.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 337px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cE9-QhEUI/AAAAAAAASrk/gsUE4NaZ7k4/s400/for+sale.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446827737058709826" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cE9bYGkwI/AAAAAAAASrc/18OYLFTjyEk/s1600-h/former+arena2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cE9bYGkwI/AAAAAAAASrc/18OYLFTjyEk/s400/former+arena2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446827727695287042" border="0" /></a>When we moved into Wilhoit back in aught81, there was an arena back of the Kirkland Bar. Periodically, it was used by local cowboys who would get together for an afternoon of roping followed by beer. And, about once a month, parents from nearby ranches held a gymkhana for local kids to show off their horsemanship.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cEqlIrSzI/AAAAAAAASrU/VB_AIzssZdY/s1600-h/cow.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 339px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cEqlIrSzI/AAAAAAAASrU/VB_AIzssZdY/s400/cow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446827403897424690" border="0" /></a>No more. The former arena now serves as one more enclosure for livestock and horseflesh (above, below.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cEqdx7-oI/AAAAAAAASrM/QH99FjQH8is/s1600-h/horse.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 324px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cEqdx7-oI/AAAAAAAASrM/QH99FjQH8is/s400/horse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446827401923000962" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cEpvwd-iI/AAAAAAAASrE/KsuVOrfBUNk/s1600-h/post+office.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cEpvwd-iI/AAAAAAAASrE/KsuVOrfBUNk/s400/post+office.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446827389568809506" border="0" /></a>I'm sure it had to have been during the reign of Ronald Reagan that we landed two new post offices out west of Prescott -- in Skull Valley and in Kirkland (above). After all, our congressional district had faithfully elected and re-elected Republican Bob Stump to the House of Representatives forever and a day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cEpV-r1NI/AAAAAAAASq8/BzwnMYKuX4c/s1600-h/skull+valley+rd.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cEpV-r1NI/AAAAAAAASq8/BzwnMYKuX4c/s400/skull+valley+rd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446827382649115858" border="0" /></a>And here's the road heading back into the hills alongside the Skull Valley Wash and the railroad tracks. First stop, Skull Valley and then Prescott. As I said at the beginning, my pictures dictated the beginning and the end points.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cEotgl9YI/AAAAAAAASq0/jS90evspIo8/s1600-h/windmill%26tank.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5cEotgl9YI/AAAAAAAASq0/jS90evspIo8/s400/windmill%26tank.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446827371785483650" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-11269701022074531692010-03-07T11:57:00.007-07:002010-03-10T19:44:06.111-07:00Railroad relics<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3wQl12eI/AAAAAAAASqs/KffntPU7DrM/s1600-h/depot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 227px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3wQl12eI/AAAAAAAASqs/KffntPU7DrM/s400/depot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445968782880528866" border="0" /></a>To answer Anil's question, yes, we have some rather cool relics saved from the earlier days of railroading in the Prescott area. Number one, of course, is the actual depot down on Sheldon. Unfortunately, it has never caught on as a proper commercial venue, winding up instead as the office for a big brokerage. However, I'd be willing to bet that one of these days Real Soon Now, a coffee house could make a go of it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3qVn2GtI/AAAAAAAASqk/ezTILceBWsY/s1600-h/DSC00003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3qVn2GtI/AAAAAAAASqk/ezTILceBWsY/s400/DSC00003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445968681151896274" border="0" /></a>There are the two old small town railroad stations that sit side by side out on Iron Springs Road. The building from <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://walkingprescott.blogspot.com/2008/12/back-in-outback-1-hillside.html">Hillside</a> has housed restaurants for some years now, while Drake Station (below) is home to western antiques and memorabilia.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3qIKt77I/AAAAAAAASqc/CRL3tFP4QSI/s1600-h/DSC00004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3qIKt77I/AAAAAAAASqc/CRL3tFP4QSI/s400/DSC00004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445968677540065202" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3p2jwNWI/AAAAAAAASqU/S3jq1MeZS60/s1600-h/museum.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3p2jwNWI/AAAAAAAASqU/S3jq1MeZS60/s400/museum.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445968672813233506" border="0" /></a>The third station still in service didn't move nearly as far from its original location -- just a few hundred yards from the tracks. It is now part of the <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://walkingprescott.blogspot.com/2007/11/womens-work-never-done.html">Skull Valley museum complex</a>. And well worth a visit (as are the other two station houses.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3paMkWRI/AAAAAAAASqM/UxnMTt4nPCo/s1600-h/bridge1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 228px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3paMkWRI/AAAAAAAASqM/UxnMTt4nPCo/s400/bridge1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445968665199794450" border="0" /></a>We can't overlook the remaining iron work that crosses Granite Creek at the foot of Granite Street and is even visible through the trees from Starbucks at the Depot Marketplace (below). BTW, there's a <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://walkingprescott.blogspot.com/2006/07/end-of-dream.html">strange and sad story</a> explaining why the bridge still stands and is now a city landmark.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3pNU_dAI/AAAAAAAASqE/fD7IyqFx1Ac/s1600-h/bridge2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 377px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5P3pNU_dAI/AAAAAAAASqE/fD7IyqFx1Ac/s400/bridge2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445968661745464322" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">One More</span><span style="font-style: italic;">: I had totally forgotten that there is one old rural railroad depot still located at its original site, down in Perkinsville at the end of the Verde River excursion run. Jarart has posted pictures of the old station at </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" href="http://prescottareadailyphoto.blogspot.com/2010/03/verde-canyon-railroad-4.html">Prescott Area Daily Photo</a><span style="font-style: italic;">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-45464752951839507712010-03-05T19:56:00.005-07:002010-03-05T20:47:16.116-07:00The Peavine, continuedI'm not the only one fascinated with our railroad history. After discussing plans for my previous post, a friend and neighbor sent me the tables that accompany this post -- thanks, Andy! They deal with various facets of the route, from the big city all the way up to the main line at Ash Fork.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5HF9m5ZTyI/AAAAAAAASp8/JXYDoycYVYw/s1600-h/SFP%26P+cross+section2.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 395px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5HF9m5ZTyI/AAAAAAAASp8/JXYDoycYVYw/s400/SFP%26P+cross+section2.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445351086671613730" border="0" /></a>Let's start with the question of elevations. I've turned the table above on its side so that you can read the names of maj0r whistle stops on the line from Phoenix to Ash Fork. It's designed to emphasize the elevation changes that our peavine railroad had to negotiate, starting with Phoenix at 1121 ft. and peaking at Prieta, on the Prescott side of the Iron Springs settlement, at 6148 ft. A bit of a climb!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5HEephmKEI/AAAAAAAASps/V65CfuWcvGI/s1600-h/SFP%26F+map.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5HEephmKEI/AAAAAAAASps/V65CfuWcvGI/s400/SFP%26F+map.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445349455289526338" border="0" /></a>Here is the stretch from Skull Valley (elev. 4297) on into Prescott (elev. 5370). The old time table showed that it took 1 hr. and 16 minutes to go from Prescott to Skull Valley vs. 1 hr. and 35 min. to climb from Skull Valley to Prescott. Phoenix to Prescott was 6 hr. 5 min but downhill Prescott to Phoenix took only 5 hr. 33 min. Incidentally, the stretch of the right-of-way from Doce to Ramsgate is currently a forest road -- a short outing I recommend; catch it south off Iron Springs Road a mile or so beyond the turn-off to the Iron Springs summer home settlement.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5HF9V9h_kI/AAAAAAAASp0/O6DQYse-hMk/s1600-h/prescott+station.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S5HF9V9h_kI/AAAAAAAASp0/O6DQYse-hMk/s400/prescott+station.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445351082125557314" border="0" /></a>Here's the last of the material given me by the good neighbor -- a picture of all the buildings that made up the Prescott railroad station facilities in 1916. Note that the depot building was actually smack dab in the middle of what would have been Sheldon Street.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">My Trip on the Peavine</span><span style="font-style: italic;">: I'm one of the lucky ones -- I actually traveled from Phoenix to Ash Fork in 1946 on the Santa Fe, leaving the big city about 4:30 PM. Twas a short train, consisting of one box car plus a combo railway express/mail/observation car -- the sort with an open platform at the end of the train, just like you see in pictures of Harry Truman as he made whistle stops when running for </span><span style="font-style: italic;">reelection. My big disappointment was that it was already dark by the time we headed into the mountains.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-16296513716200715832010-03-03T19:04:00.004-07:002010-03-03T20:15:35.624-07:00Mapping the Santa Fe through PrescottSo just <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.sharlot.org/archives/history/dayspast/text/1999_01_24.shtml">where did the railroad go</a>, back in the day when <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0871087766?tag=openlibr-20">Prescott was served by the Santa Fe</a>? Before I moved, I managed to snag the 1947 15-minute USGS Prescott quad topo, which shows a much smaller town, including the railroad tracks. Scanned and magnified, the topo does a nice job of showing the route. BTW, the tracks are designated by a solid line with periodic cross hatching.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48Wkr6QLBI/AAAAAAAASpk/-dKy55A8Zxo/s1600-h/east+half.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 357px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48Wkr6QLBI/AAAAAAAASpk/-dKy55A8Zxo/s400/east+half.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444595294032374802" border="0" /></a>East of the <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://prescottpast.blogspot.com/2009/03/trains-in-prescott-1887-1962.html">depot down on Sheldon</a> at the foot of Cortez, the tracks headed northeast up through the Whipple Military Reservation -- now the Ft. Whipple VA, then along Granite Creek toward the Dells where the old right of way is now a popular hiking trail.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48Wj7HWucI/AAAAAAAASpc/AIu57qkZDQc/s1600-h/rrmap.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 284px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48Wj7HWucI/AAAAAAAASpc/AIu57qkZDQc/s400/rrmap.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444595280933992898" border="0" /></a>Here's a snippet of a map I found at the <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.sharlot.org/archives/maps/railroads.html">Sharlot Hall web site</a>, a close-up of the area surrounding the station. A couple of fascinating details: two round houses, one for oil tankers ... and the little dam on Butte Creek (right center) which held one of the early city water impoundments. (It's still there, though hard to find as it is completely silted up.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48Wab5NvxI/AAAAAAAASpU/xYWmVtzMXHQ/s1600-h/west+half.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 325px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48Wab5NvxI/AAAAAAAASpU/xYWmVtzMXHQ/s400/west+half.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444595117934362386" border="0" /></a>Less well known is the course of the tracks through the city west of the depot. Basically, it followed Miller Creek briefly, crossed Miller Valley Road at Rodeo Drive to serve the fairgrounds, then headed northwest to Iron Springs Road, which it followed out of town. More or less the same route as Gail Gardner Way, incidentally.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48WZhEsN-I/AAAAAAAASpM/bRA11WIg_HY/s1600-h/espresso.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48WZhEsN-I/AAAAAAAASpM/bRA11WIg_HY/s400/espresso.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444595102144804834" border="0" /></a>Look behind the espresso shack on Miller Valley Road; you will see that there's a fence on an extreme diagonal which heads southeast behind the Mexican restaurant and the old stone building.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48WY-Ujn-I/AAAAAAAASpE/L1XDPClzBMA/s1600-h/rock+building.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48WY-Ujn-I/AAAAAAAASpE/L1XDPClzBMA/s400/rock+building.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444595092816109538" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48WYJdB_gI/AAAAAAAASo8/OgbujANjNro/s1600-h/short+street.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48WYJdB_gI/AAAAAAAASo8/OgbujANjNro/s400/short+street.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444595078624574978" border="0" /></a>A short distance further south, you will note a little stub of a street on the east, opposite to the road heading to J&G Sales on the west side of Miller Valley. The stub leads to an unnamed bit of street that follows the old railroad course; there was at one time a spur track all the way to J&G's present building (it shows on the map if you look carefully.) As a matter of fact, the iron rails of the spur were still there, embedded in the road surface when we first came to Prescott at the beginning of the '80s.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48WXcXFhWI/AAAAAAAASo0/pbB5Vfbpz_g/s1600-h/j%26G.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S48WXcXFhWI/AAAAAAAASo0/pbB5Vfbpz_g/s400/j%26G.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444595066520044898" border="0" /></a>And the Santa Fe was still stopping in Prescott three days a week at that time. However, the western half of the route had been dropped in the 60s; the trains came and left via the Dells. Reason: railroads had switched to long piggy-back flat-bed rolling stock which could never have negotiated the old winding tracks between Skull Valley and Iron Springs. Drive all the way out to Ramsgate on the Dosie Pit Road and you'll understand!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-34531096477191608282010-03-01T11:32:00.004-07:002010-03-01T11:45:48.612-07:00The left-handed gun<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4wIRPpQMpI/AAAAAAAASnw/GcQrwSqsyAA/s1600-h/lefty.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4wIRPpQMpI/AAAAAAAASnw/GcQrwSqsyAA/s400/lefty.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443735141934445202" border="0" /></a>Before he left for bayou country, Sson hung several paintings, prints and other pictures to make new home feel more like my home. Here's one of my favorites -- and its story, at least as much as I know. When we moved into Prescott from Wilhoit in the mid 80s, we had plenty of room, and large white expanses of wall. Time to think about art. At that time, there was a gallery in the St. Michael Alley two doors down from Ernie's Hotel California. A young artist guy showed up who needed fast money to finance his more serious work. He had whipped out several hand-colored wood block prints with a western theme (always a best seller in Arizona.) The catch was that the prints were based upon Hollywood studio b&w publicity photos. This particular picture was a promotion for <span style="font-style: italic;">The Left-Handed Gun</span>, a major production about Billy the Kid, with Paul Newman playing The Kid. And, yes, though I generally don't buy into the self-conscious Western Art meme, I had to have this print. I leave it to you to figure out which of the guys is Newman.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-11087169283854762872010-02-27T20:01:00.006-07:002010-03-01T15:51:07.820-07:00An unexpected visitor<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndX96fVnI/AAAAAAAASno/nAUMLS4yomA/s1600-h/bob%26+container.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 344px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndX96fVnI/AAAAAAAASno/nAUMLS4yomA/s400/bob%26+container.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443125028480570994" border="0" /></a>And, so just why does the Sson show up at my new abode with a watering container from my former potted garden? Turns out that when I looked into the jug, there at the bottom was probably the first skink -- and likely the first lizard of any sort -- to show up in this particular assisted living apartment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndRwNGq4I/AAAAAAAASng/iED-35s_0uk/s1600-h/skink+at+bottom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 376px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndRwNGq4I/AAAAAAAASng/iED-35s_0uk/s400/skink+at+bottom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443124921721334658" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndRpPI_1I/AAAAAAAASnY/qN8F_HD8-e8/s1600-h/on+arm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndRpPI_1I/AAAAAAAASnY/qN8F_HD8-e8/s400/on+arm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443124919850827602" border="0" /></a>No, he didn't move in with me. Sson courteously removed said lizard back to the plot of dirt where he -- and several fellows -- were uncovered. Do note that there are two other reptilian critters in addition to the highly polished, photogenic skinks in the picture below.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndRJyw9lI/AAAAAAAASnQ/K7SZsZ278yg/s1600-h/on+ground.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 368px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndRJyw9lI/AAAAAAAASnQ/K7SZsZ278yg/s400/on+ground.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443124911410312786" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndQrB8mKI/AAAAAAAASnI/oIuAg1ec-OA/s1600-h/skink+in+hand.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndQrB8mKI/AAAAAAAASnI/oIuAg1ec-OA/s400/skink+in+hand.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443124903152490658" border="0" /></a>Don't know if these (above, below) pix are of my visitor or one of his/her brothers. However, being as I now live on the second floor, I doubt if I'll be visited by such lizards as these in the foreseeable future. Until the Sson's next visit, that is.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndPxpYJoI/AAAAAAAASnA/Yo4V7UmTf7I/s1600-h/head.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ndPxpYJoI/AAAAAAAASnA/Yo4V7UmTf7I/s400/head.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443124887748617858" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Error message just in from the Sson!!!</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I doofed on my semi-hazy ID of that lizard I had done brought over to you</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">the other day!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Actually, NO SKINK was he at all, but rather an ALLIGATOR LIZARD!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Looked it up today whence you posted it on your blog...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Most likely, it be the so-called "Arizona alligator lizard" or "Madrean</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Alligator Lizard".</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It's formal "scientific" name is Elgaria kingii.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">According to at least one semi-official site (Anapsid.org), Elgaria was</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">formerly called Gerrhontus- oh, how we do love our names and occasional</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">changing thereof in biology...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Please jump on to your blog and tell all that the ol' Sson biologist has</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">corrected himself!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The "Skink" has wonderfully transformed into an alligator!</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20402991.post-20150175007761463912010-02-23T20:23:00.004-07:002010-02-23T20:41:46.535-07:00B&W -- almost<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4Sc1_yec9I/AAAAAAAASm4/mjnQRT8p0nA/s1600-h/uphill+scrub.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4Sc1_yec9I/AAAAAAAASm4/mjnQRT8p0nA/s400/uphill+scrub.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441646701240546258" border="0" /></a>It's only natural and to be expected that after my paean to color, my next major photo op would turn out to be nearly black and white. Oh, all right, grey-green and white, mostly. You see, we are enjoying the fruits of a proper El Nino winter, which means periodic snow storms. Which should result in wonderful early spring wild flowers down in the desert elevations. If you peer closely, you'll see a touch of brown (the scrub branches) in the picture above -- and, of course, the yellow shout of heavy earth moving equipment below.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4Sc1ihxu_I/AAAAAAAASmw/dTKAhmRnxcg/s1600-h/heavy+equip.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4Sc1ihxu_I/AAAAAAAASmw/dTKAhmRnxcg/s400/heavy+equip.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441646693385878514" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4Sc0y_aaCI/AAAAAAAASmo/-eYPC7896E4/s1600-h/snowybough.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4Sc0y_aaCI/AAAAAAAASmo/-eYPC7896E4/s400/snowybough.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441646680625276962" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4Sc0Xis84I/AAAAAAAASmg/hah4JkNs96Y/s1600-h/stones+close.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4Sc0Xis84I/AAAAAAAASmg/hah4JkNs96Y/s400/stones+close.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441646673257100162" border="0" /></a>The decorative schist along the driveway came closest to the real black and white that I claimed in the title. The wormy looking snow below was the result of a tree that was busy shrugging off its snow load.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ScaeRpqDI/AAAAAAAASmY/7ZNn-nAR-Qo/s1600-h/tree+droppings.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 325px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ScaeRpqDI/AAAAAAAASmY/7ZNn-nAR-Qo/s400/tree+droppings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441646228388030514" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ScaMlnnQI/AAAAAAAASmQ/1Iuyf7q9--U/s1600-h/tree+shadow2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ScaMlnnQI/AAAAAAAASmQ/1Iuyf7q9--U/s400/tree+shadow2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441646223639944450" border="0" /></a>Above: a tree shadowed the stones here; below, one day later, much of the white stuff has melted away.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ScZG13zNI/AAAAAAAASmA/LYIRAzil4B4/s1600-h/day+later.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ScZG13zNI/AAAAAAAASmA/LYIRAzil4B4/s400/day+later.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441646204917632210" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ScYvE0AyI/AAAAAAAASl4/Lbnx8Ppc5BA/s1600-h/screen+scene.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 322px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7PbGEP1owXc/S4ScYvE0AyI/AAAAAAAASl4/Lbnx8Ppc5BA/s400/screen+scene.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441646198537847586" border="0" /></a>The clearing sky lends a slight blue tinge to the upper corner of this screen scene.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Site Meter XHTML Strict 1.0 -->
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://s50.sitemeter.com/js/counter.js?site=s50walkingprescott">
</script>
<!-- Copyright (c)2006 Site Meter --></div>Granny Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07302978680897139954noreply@blogger.com12