In which Moominmama reflects on the start of a new year and what it means to reach Year Five of a life on the road... Starting on my fifth year on the road, Moominmama wonders if it's an adventure anymore, or just a lifestyle. Somehow, "Moominmama's Lifestyle" just doesn't have the same ring! But the truth is that not everything is new and exciting! Having picked up the trailer in New Mexico and driven to Arizona, I'm enjoying a Sonoran Desert that's actually somewhat familiar. I enjoy being back among the grandfather saguaro cactus, unique to this particular desert. The Sonoran Desert, unlike others, is marked by two rainy seasons: the summer monsoons and winter rains. But as I've learned, last year there were no significant monsoon rains in the Phoenix area, deepening an already serious drought. This year, no flowers greeted my March arrival. The plants were dry and dormant, and the local park ranger was taking photos of stressed-out saguaros on my...
In which Moominmama explores Denali National Park and hikes a stretch of the backcountry with a park ranger... Denali, the highest mountain in North America, is a ghostly and elusive presence over the Denali valley that makes up most of the national park. Clouds often obscure the peak, and even under clear skies, it often appears like an afterimage. The south peak (the smoother bump) is the high point. The north peak is the one more pointed. At 20,320 feet, it is shorter than Mt. Everest (29,029 feet), but it rises from a plateau at 2,000 feet of elevation. The plateau at the base of Mt. Everest is already at 17,000 feet before the mountain rises above. I expected to feel more like I was in the mountains in Denali National Park. Denali is part of the Alaska Range, which looms over the park but at quite a distance. Closer is the Outer Range, which I did get to climb. In this late-day light, the rock looks almost pink. But the bulk of the park is in the valley between the two ranges...
In which Moominmama goes on a guided bird walk and learns about the artistry of the Salado cliff dwellers... Moominmama awakes each morning to an orchestra of birds. The funniest of the lot are the male Gambel's quail, which have a dark plume on the top of their heads. It bobs when they peck at the ground or hustle over to the nearest bush. They also make some strange bird calls, one that sounds like a tired squeaky toy, and another to the beat of "Chi-CA-go" as if you'd stepped on and off aforementioned squeaky toy. When I went on a guided bird walk one morning, I had a chance to ask what the quail bird calls were about. Vera, our guide, said they were basically announcing their presence. She also taught us various mnemonic devices for remembering bird calls. Like the owl that hoots: "Are you awake? Me too." Walking to the bath house not long after, I spotted a quail on the limb of a bush, issuing its one-note toot. I imitated -- and that quail took off in ...
I take it you did NOT get wet from the trip!
ReplyDeleteNope, that would have been a mighty chilly dip!
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