A short neighborhood walk

Our wintery winter, plus other upsets, has cut walking time down drastically. To begin to get back into shape, I took a brief excursion in the immediate neighborhood to see what could be seen. And photographed. My fine collection of stump pictures was one of the casualties of the hard drive crash; here's the start of a new collection -- a strange configuration, indeed.

The neighbor who planted 1000 tulips a couple of years ago has decided to stop the javelina depredations this spring. We'll see how well this little fence works. I'm not betting on it. Of course, there will be tulips -- the critters seem always to leave a few bulbs behind whenever they go digging. Food for their future and flowers for the rest of us.

Isn't this a curious river rock, with its alien intrusions? Wonder where it came from originally.

There's always some sort of automobile goodie waiting for me when I go walking.

And, with all the moisture we've had, there are intensely green mosses, even in Arizona.

My neighbor who restores vintage cars displays appropriate yard ornamentation, too. Very kewl wire wheels, aren't they.

I survived this outing and plan on many more, weather permitting. Especially I hope to photograph that suit of armour that was on display outside Batterman's yesterday.

Old Telephone Poles Never Die...

...they just gradually become one with the earth. In the meantime, a few may serve time in gardens or as part of a small embankment beside a dirt road, like a group of old poles in my neighborhood.


This hole interests me. I wonder who lives here. It appears that the heart of these poles is first to crumble, leaving the outermost section to slowly fall apart.

Linkages: I don't quite understand PrescotteNews or just where it's coming from. It definitely isn't filling the large footprint left behind by the late lamented ReadItHere. On the other hand, there is this very interesting interview with the man who heads up Mayor Wilson's committee on economic development. I'd say he's a bit too focused on the footloose and fancy-free knowledge worker; after all, there's a lot more to Silicon Valley than a bunch of programmers and systems analysts. That's a bit too single-minded. But at least it's a start to thinking in directions other than more retailers and rooftops (and the minimum wage jobs that accompany them). My own opinion? What about industry clusters: small scale aerospace businesses, centered around ERAU ... recreation/environment entrepreneurial operations, centered about Prescott College and the national forest ... you know, a bit of high tech manufacturing plus some software types. And perhaps we should settle the question of just how much like California we want Prescott to become. After all, California is what the Californians, having created California, are now fleeing from; besides, California so Very Yesterday, as some youngsters would say.

Now for some fun. Have you seen the nautilus home? A wonderful change from the usual post-modern architecture. And how about McDonald's as a multi-cultural leader?

Signing in at Lynx Lake

On our family outing to Lynx Lake, the kids went off climbing, leaving me behind at the parking/picnic area at the north end. What to do ... rather, what to photograph? As I scanned the scene, what struck me was the inordinate number of signs. To the left. To the right. Instructions, permissions, no-no's, information -- everywhere I looked. What better subject for a post. (Just FYI, I took one of those maps and it was a very nice topo of the area. I heart topos.)

We'll start off with a no-no. None of the local lakes are OKed by officialdom for swimming.

A trail marker, with its own list of what's allowed and what's not. On the alligator juniper in the background, a sign acknowledging a volunteer who cares for this trail.

These two signs refer to some sort of improvement to the area or the lake --with full credit to where the $$ are coming from. At least they passed through the hands of a designer or two.

The side of the loo provides a good, broad expanse for posting a good collection of signs.

As one starts out on a walk down to the lake shore, an admonition.

Some instructions get a "please", others are strictly orders. However, at least this standard Forest Service sign is of a less intrusive design.

Now these colored reflector signs carry a message for those in on the secret. You can see them almost anywhere out in the countryside that there's pavement; the LH and I used to try to figure out what was meant by the different combinations of colors and number/size of reflectors.

Naturally, the dumpster is plastered with its own special messages.

And the lawyers get their say on the subject of garbage.

Here's a call for volunteers. Unfortunately, I suspect that any potential volunteers would be suffering from sign-fatigue by the time this catches their eyes -- if it does.

This series of three does tell us something about the lake (a man-made) and its impact on the local wildlife. Nothing ordering us to do this or that. And nicely illustrated, to boot.

The subdued Lynx Lake sign in the background tells the history of the impoundment. Quite a contrast to the demand for fees in the foreground. That's the lot of them --- except for one no parking sign. All in an area of about an acre. That's a lot of reading material, but perhaps it's just as well to have it all concentrated in one spot so that once one ventures out on a trail, there is no need for any more of this printed noise.

The Skull Valley Cafe is back!

Glad tidings -- the Skull Valley Cafe reopened five weeks ago. All dolled up western style, which is a hair on the hokey side; after all, it was a plain pipe racks operation all those years under Helen and Dick when my LH and I breakfasted there almost everyday.

But, hey! I can certainly live with such details as painted cracks and hasps just to have this welcome little out-of-the-way restaurant open again!

There's still a counter plus the small tables. And a side order of B&G for only 99 cents, as well as a much more expansive menu than in the G.O.D. (Good Old Days).

A real innovation is this patio, already occupied on a warm February day.

The decor includes pictures of Skull Valley in older days; the paintings of the store and the pre-upgraded gas station are by one of my favorite local artists, Linne Thomas, who chronicles the remains of an earlier time hereabouts.

The cafe's bulletin board continues to be news central for the countryside.

The real theme, however, is the Santa Fe railroad which still passes through Skull Valley on its run between Phoenix and the main line up north. And, yes, trains still park on the siding so that engineers and other railroaders can grab a bite to eat. Just as I remember from the 80s.

Sunday's customers looked as though they came from all over. In the old days, local cowboys and ranchers, scruffy miners from the Copper Basin, and bikers riding the back roads up from the Valley of Death were the primary customers. When an out-of-the-area Rancher entered, Helen always made a point of introducing him to any other Baron who might be present. And the mid-morning and after-lunch gossip was great! Hope it still is. I'll be back next time I get a ride down Iron Springs Road.

Words & Graffiti: If wordplay is your thing, have a look at Urban Dictionary, DoubleTongued and/or Wordlust. New Scientist, of all places, was where I discovered these sites that deal with the latest slang, lingo -- and made-up words. And if your normally staid exterior hides an inner biker, go over to Hoarded Ordinaries for pictures of a long block in Cambridge MA where street artists and graffiti types own the wall.

A collection of crosses

No doubt there is a story for each of these many crosses that grace the back wall of the parlor seating at the American Lutheran Church. I'm fascinated at the different forms that the ruud can take, both simple and complex. Take a look:

I shouldn't have been surprised when I saw that church display; I have friends -- a couple -- who spent at least a year creating a great variety of crosses, many of which are hanging on their walls.

Beautiful bridgework

It's been ever so long since the LH and I explored the countryside surrounding the Hassayampa River way south of town. So when friend Georgene asked if I wanted to drive down to see the maintenance work being done on the Wagoner Road bridge, I was already putting my boots on and checking out the cameras.

We had to ford the river on the road reserved for trucks carrying large loads. The bridge can be seen in the distance.

This is one of three steel truss bridges in Yavapai County; all are on the National Register of Historic Places. The other two are the Walnut Creek bridge in the western half of the forest and the Verde River bridge at Perkinsville.

Here's the one-lane bridge in all its glory -- minus the decking. The fresh paint job glows in today's warm sun.

According to an article at the Sharlot Hall website, this bridge differs from the other [steel bridges] in the county, having a different profile (called "riveted Camelback through truss") and was built on the spot in 1924, designed by the El Paso Bridge and Iron Company and contracted by Carnegie Steel.

Getting the job done, of course, requires all sorts of road fix-it gear...

Sitting beside the road: one of my most-hated objects -- an ugly precast barrier used by the highway folk on modern bridges. Contrast it, if you will, with that lovely, open trusswork below. Which would you rather see? (Not to mention the fact that one can view the river through the truss but not through the precast.) I don't know why these barriers are on the scene, since registered historic sites can't be mucked about with. Thank goodness.

The river crossing as we headed for home displayed the bare cottonwoods at their most beautiful. Thanks, G., for the ride!