The Shrine of St. Joseph...

To be very honest, in all the 25+ years I've lived in and around Prescott, I never had a yearning to visit the Shrine of St. Joseph of the Mountain down in Yarnell. I presumed that it was a drawing card for the more religious among us, and nothing else. But while we were waiting for the crowds to gather for the big Buzzard's Bash picnic, Patty and Bob suggested that we visit the shrine. I'm so very glad that we did.

As many times as I have motored through Yarnell on SR 89, I never realized just how beautiful it could be back amongst the granites and the live oaks. These woodlands are enchanted!

The story according to this Catholic source: The shrine was built and is maintained by a group of lay men and women from the Phoenix area that promotes St. Joseph as the foster father of Jesus, head of the Holy Family, and patron and role model to the family of today. The original lay group came from various parishes in the area in 1934 and its purpose was to perform spiritual and corporal works of mercy, regardless of race or creed.

The bronze sculpture above is the risen Christ. In the background, friend Patty can be seen, entering the cave...

where a sculpture of the crucified Christ is lying, awaiting the Resurrection.

The sculpture above, of a woman consoling the dying Christ, is one in a series depicting the Passion as one ascends the hill.

I chose the other route up the hillside, past the praying Jesus.

These stairs wound uphill taking the visitor to the 14 stations of the cross.

At each of the crosses, there is a seat among the stones for prayer, contemplation or simply soaking in the scenery.

A plaque on each of the crosses describes the event depicted. And, no, I did not make it all the way to the top; the climb was steep and the old lungs aren't up to it.

A visit to the shrine is worth your time. I'd suggest you wait another three or four weeks, when the scarlet bugler penstemon may have started blooming and, with the rain we've had, possibly the blue delphinium plants as well. For our visit, the manzanita (above) was in bloom and there was a little fruit tree with blossoms; I'd guess that it started from a peach pit a visitor threw away. And to my European visitors: if those blossoms above look familiar, it is because our very southwestern manzanita (little apple) belongs to the heather/erica clan.

Shopping with GrannyJ

Some shopping excursions are hell; others are hoo-rah! Today was one of the good days. Because of the rainy weather, walking was out; why not take a cab all the way to the K-Mart mall. For starters, my driver, she of the very blonde hair, turned out to be a cop retired from the Philly police force. Interesting lady.
What should greet me at K-Mart but extreme temptation. Worried about carrying all that bulk around, I resisted. But, oh....

First stop, the Amazing 99 Cent Store. It's unlike the newer dollar stores, which are just one more dull, niche market for the big food/houshold products companies. For a number of years, my Sson has stocked up on exotics here, especially sauces and similar items.

Here are the marinades I bought -- 3 bottles for 99 cents total! The store has long specialized in fancy food close-outs in addition to the usual tacky geegaws and everyday items.

Oops. What have we here? Protesters, perhaps? Big signs and the right kind of costuming -- ironic patriotism and goth.

But no. Tax service promotion. There'll always be an adman! Next stop, the real reason I came -- a new recycled printer cartridge store. A franchise out of Oz yet. And I did indeed save money over the name brand ink. About half price or less.

Another addition to the K-Mart center line-up: Jay's Bird Barn. Believe it or not, there are two shops in town for the bird watcher. Of course, Jay writes a weekly column for the Courier which I always make a point of reading.

And guess what -- I discovered at least one source of those fancy decorated mailboxes. Apparently the covers are attached magnetically. Jays is also a good source for birding field manuals (below) and, yes, topical Tshirts.


While on the subject of books, I poked my nose into Anchor. In addition to shelf upon shelf of pop paperbacks, there was one book I almost bought. A big picture album of photographs by Elliot Porter.

Final stop: our lifestyle Safeway. The supermarket chain's answer to WalMart's invasion of their food turf. In reality, it's up-market because the lights are a lot dimmer (saves on the electric bill, too) ... spotlights shine on a few gondolas of food imports ... more wines are stocked ... and there's a Starbucks. I happen to like the place because its deli is far better than average, though that happened long before the life-styling kick.

But what caught my eye on this supermarket visit was the dispenser above and the accompanying fact that frozen CO2 has been, Lord help us, Branded. I suppose we have a legion of young folk out there who are ignorant of all the fun you can have with dry ice or of its many uses. Live and learn.

My final score: two splendid horsie picture books @ $2 each for the granddaughter, plus a remaindered Larry Niven Ringworld book that I hope I haven't read. Oh, yes. More good news: zante currants have resurfaced in the dried fruit department. They beat regular raisins all hollow.

Road Trip 1: Cool Lava Flows

There's a temptation to compare digital point and shoot cameras to the old box Brownies. Yes, both were conceived as cameras for Everyman, and, indeed, both serve(d) that purpose well. One points; one shoots; one has a picture.

The resemblance stops there. Among the wonderful features of modern picture-taking technology is the shutter speed. It's high. Stops motion like you wouldn't believe. There's nothing like taking pictures out the windshield or the side window while a friend speeds down the highway!
Our return trip from Yarnell Tuesday gave me a chance to record those magnificent lava flows and mesas at the point halfway to the Sierra Prietas. SR89 swings a series of curves as it goes up and over the mesas. Just a short little segment of the road.

Aren't they beautiful? Again, I wonder where all the lava originated; that's a question I have often asked as I have wandered the area. There is, 10-15 miles to the south, Blowout Mountain. Might be the source; then again, might not. This isn't a section of Yavapai county that excites much study. The big geological money goes into potential copper mining sites or tracing water routes.

Very sere the day we drove through. Today there was an excellent rain, with more promised tomorrow. Perhaps we will see some greening yet before the heat crisps everything out.

These Gifts Are Meant for Walking

This is a post I should have made in January -- but I never got around to taking the critical pictures. So now I'll brag up my daughter and SIL. To be specific, they are among those people who are blessed in the gift-selecting department.

You may recall that several months ago, I was careless with my prize black walking stick and had to make do with a thrift shop ski pole conversion. But it wasn't black. This past Christmas, the kids presented me with a long tube. Usually, that means an extra big or an old historic topo map that SIL has printed out just for me. Imagine my surprise when out popped a brand new black walking stick. Believe you me, I'm being extra careful not to leave it behind.

Then there is the new approach to socks. Sewn. Cut from Polartec fleece. Comfy. Warm. And wild. Suitable for wearing with one's favorite river sandals.

The stars showed up in a package a year ago.

Here are my new socks for 2007. Don't they look like legs borrowed from a Dr. Seuss character?

When the Buzzards Come Back to Yarnell...

Tain't as euphonious as the words to that song about swallows and Capistrano -- but it's a lot closer to Prescott. Even so, I don't get down to Yarnell much these days. So I jumped at the chance to join Patty and Bob at the annual Buzzard's Bash, a picnic to welcome the vulture flocks back from Mexico. We even saw a couple of the big birds circling as we drove through Peeples Valley. Just FYI, friend Patty had a grandmother who was a mover and shaker in the earlier days of this small Arizona mountain town. That sign above? Her granny!

One local couple who shared our table said that the buzzards had been back from their winter in the south for about two weeks. Apparently two large flocks roost in the Yarnell area. 100 or so.

Not many Prescott people at the festivities. Too bad. I personally think our town is getting full of flatlander-think; too many folks believe leaving town means heading out SR69 through the Prescott Valley traffic snarl to hit I-17 for Phoenix. Maybe that's just as well; the hills and hamlets west and southwest of the city are growing at a far slower pace than the rest of the county.

But then, there wasn't really any publicity locally. I caught an big article in the Yellow Sheet, a new weekly focused on the SR89 corridor from Wickenburg up to Prescott.

By the way, this was absolutely the cheapest good food I've had in a month of Sundays. Only $3.75 for fried chicken, smoked turkey legs, cole slaw, beans, hush puppies and lemonade. Not that I consider hush puppies a western food -- the little fried corn meal and onion balls were a staple in the deep south when I was a kid. Usually you ate them with a paper plate full of locally caught fried shrimp.

The turkey legs were prepped by the Buzzard's Roost, which I am told, does barbecue to die for. But be warned -- the lease for this Yarnell landmark is up either at the end of April or May, so get down there fast.

One musician, Tom Moore (I'm sure about the first name but not the last) up from Wickenburg, made the scene, with good ole boy songs. He kept looking for the fiddle player who never showed while we were there.

In case you were wondering about that drop-off sign, here's the spot. It's about 8 feet straight down to the creek bed. Yarnell is in the midst of some awesome granites.

A tree that probably preceded white man in these parts.

The requisite Tshirt, plus a downhome-produced history of the pretty little one-time mining town (pop. 668 in 2007.) I would have bought, too, except that I only took a single over to the stand to buy a dessert from the bake-sale ladies. What did I pick? An apple flauta. Yum.

See those trees greening up just beyond the park? Buzzards roost there at dusk and sit on near-by boulders to warm up in the sun in the morning. Interesting birds. Quite unattractive if you see them up close, with their bare red heads. And, as carrion eaters, their breath is very bad. But in flight, riding the thermals, these huge birds are beautiful. In the Prescott area, I almost always see the vultures circling out at Granite Basin Lake.