What do you mean, primitive?

The LH and I used to laugh when we came across one of these big bold signs on a county road. Our basic response was, "you don't know from primitive". As best we could tell, there was some legalism involved in the label, "primitive road". Might even have to do with the feds.

We considered these graded and drained roadways the next best thing to a black top. For real primitive, you go to the Forest Service map or the topos and try out one of those single dotted lines. Now that's a primitive road; double dotted lines tended to be somewhere in between the broad expanse below and a two track - but we could almost always make it on a double dotted line in our Sube station wagon.

Punch Buggy!

There are strange threads that apparently connect the generations. For example, the car model that is "it". Having experienced teenagers and an 8-year-old for a couple of weeks, I quickly learned that the sighting of a new model Beetle brings the shout of "punch buggy -- no punch back". From both crews, one from Louisiana and the other from Alaska. Now this is a true meme! A meaningless meme, but certainly widespread. Things got a bit more complicated with the Alaska Gdotter, who also shouts out when she's seen 1) a yellow car ("score"), 2) an orange car (I forget the shout) and 3) a pale blue car ("boo-boo").

What does this have to do with my childhood? Simple: when my brother and I were kids, we were ever on the lookout for a Willys with its weird beak and big moustache. I don't recall what the shout was (if there was one), but I will never forget the look of the cars! I've no idea what the "it" cars were in the intervening years...perhap someone can fill me in.

The Christmas T's

Prior to the Big Day, the DIL and I went gift shopping (and window shopping) on Whiskey Row. Fortunately, ours is a Tshirt family so it is comparatively easy to arrive at a lightweight present without too much agonizing.

In this case, the giftee in question was my dotter. The top two T's over at the Galloping Goose were not it; the next, fancier Kokopelli was chosen by the DIL.

Sson the ecologist is famous for his biological collection -- themes that range from Serengetti giraffes to tree frogs. But his wardrobe is beginning to fray. And so we pitched in. Above, orcas and below, a very special gift from his sister.

We even made a special trip out to the Nature Center to buy him his very own mosquito. Same place I found the delightful ladybugs for the smallest Gchild; this tee came complete with a separate set of bugs to snap into place.

A gift that dates back to last summer; I had forgotten about this particular Tshirt when I posted about Betty Boop.

Valley of Lights: It took an out-of-towner to catch this year's Valley of Lights display over in PV. While I went down to Tucson for a visit, Warren came up to Prescott from Tucson. Thanks, Warren.

Road trip: sky island

One-half of my splendid gift from the Sson and family: an overnight road trip to Tucson. I hadn't been in that area (except passing through on the train) since I was a little girl, when I rode down on my Uncle Max' Indian motorcycle.

On the spur of a moment, we decided to take a drive to the top of Mt. Lemmon, which looms 7000 ft. over the desert city; no, I had never been to the top, even though the unc worked for the US Forest Service most of his life.

The desert plants grow lush around Tucson: above, young saguaro and prickly pear; below, a teddy bear cholla and mesquite tree.

A saguaro forest covers the lower elevations of the mountain. The cacti are thinner and possibly younger than those around the Phoenix; not as many arms, either.

The roadside cuts display colorful, banded rocks compressed through the eons. Mt. Lemmon is one of the highest peaks in the Santa Catalina range, part of the great Basin and Range geological province that writer John McPhee describes so eloquently. I was first introduced to the sky island mountain ranges during the years when I flew over the Nevada desert ferrying Mom to and from Victoria every summer.

The road climbs through the desert up into a region of hoodoos and tors.

A stop to admire the scenery. Below, two views of Tucson. The Chinese-style perspective is thanks to ever-present smog and dust.

As we climb up the canyons, frost and snow make an appearance on the north sides of the slopes. The stoplight below was necessary because a slide reduced the highway down to one lane.

All this grandeur just for me thanks to the Sson and DIL. Below, the gorgeous teen Gdotter retrieved her camera from me to take her own pictures.

You wouldn't know it to look at it, but the highway was actually quite busy the day we drove it. Among other things, Mexicans who live near the border often drive up to Tucson for a day in the snow because, though they have the mountains, they don't have any highways to the tops! There were bicyclists aplenty, as well as parades of cars caught behind gawking drivers.

This signs points out one of the problems created by a cool or cold play area within an hour's driving distance from a desert. Apparently in some seasons, it's easiest to get to the top via bus.

The bear warning was a new one for me.

And here we are, near the top, at Summerhaven, which was devastated by a forest fire in the summer of 2003; the houses above are all new. No, we didn't continue on to the ski area, as we had to return to Prescott that day.

Seasonal saurians

I'm happy to report that the Iron Springs menagerie were still sporting their Christmas attire when we drove west earlier this week. And I believe I saw a pair of new flying horses adorning the driveway to the manor house as we sped back into town. I wonder where the lady goes for her giant iron critters now that the Iron Corral has packed up and gone back to Baja.

We did get our own saurians once the Gdotter got to work. My favorite is the blue-striped pterodactyl.

Christmas 2009 -- big birds

Oh, is it hard to climb back into the everyday world. I find that holidays or other special times put one into an alternate universe with a different cast of characters and events. Difficult to come down. So I'll edge into my reports with a look at some of the local big birds photographed by my dotter, the Gdotter and a handful by meself. (Did I mention that my camera is broken and I spent the holidays naked, begging cameras (and downloads) left and right? Said machine is currently in the presumably expert hands of Best Buy's Geek Squad for an overhaul.)

Watson Lake is home to Canada geese overwintering in a warmer climate...

...while this golden eye is one of many ducks hanging out at Lynx Lake. Below: here are some of the others flocking there where the handouts are plentiful. Show up at the edge of the lake and a swarm of birds heads your way, quacking and honking their willingness to share any goodies you might offer.

The three geese at Lynx are particularly aggressive. I would guess that the pair above are escapees from someone's farmyard. They are ready to peck any little kid who doesn't come equipped with food. We made sure the Gdotter was prepared.

Meanwhile, while on a hike on the Peavine Trail, the dotter managed to catch an elusive road runner (above) and some variety of hawk in a tree (below).

My one decent hawk shot was taken out the Ferguson Valley Road. A harrier, the bird quickly left the tree and flew low over the fields to land on a power pole where the 8-year old Gdotter got the best take. (Tip: for a proper afternoon of hawk birding, there's nothing like a trip north on SR89 north of Chino Valley where every other pole is the roost for a raptor of some sort.)

And, wrapping up this first post of the New Year, good news about the old cottonwood tree down by the Skull Valley Wash near Kirkland. There's a new hawk's nest, replacing the old one that disappeared a year or so ago. I even caught a glimpse of a hawk up on the hillside who might be this year's occupant. The new quarters aren't as big as the previous nest, but will probably grow in time. The old nest was many years old.