Hashknife!

I almost didn’t go.  The wind across interstate 40 in northern Arizona was gusting over 60 MPH.  My curiosity got the better of me, though, so I tackled the drive.  The route I choose only included 30 miles of the interstate.  Even so, there was a semi on its side. 

No harm, no foul.  The Subaru and I made it to Holbrook intact.

My friend Greg McKelvey is friendly with Mark Reynolds, the captain of the Hashknife Pony Express.  These guys are riding the 62nd annual commemorative run, which takes its honorific from an iconic Arizona cattle brand, now owned by the Babbitt Family.  They ride Holbrook to Payson, then Payson to Fountain Hills, and finally to Scottsdale, in one-mile increments. Greg has created a win-win situation with Mark, so that a small group of photographers had the opportunity to do an exclusive early morning shoot with two of the riders.  In return, we agreed to share our best work with them for publicity and personal use.

Meet Shawn Maestas (on the white mare) and Wade Carlisle (riding the chestnut).

The riders carry actual U.S. Mail, and are sworn in as Postal Workers.

The experience was extraordinary.  Though I agree with a friend who asked, “so, why do they do it in February?”  It was good and cold at sunrise.

There were demonstrations of the mail bag hand-off, after which (while still galloping) both riders yell “Hashknife!”  We photographed horse and rider speeding along and some quiet moments as well.

We were working for a couple of hours, but it was over before I knew it.  I was past Winona on the way home before my feet thawed, though.

By the way, a hashknife is an old cowboy chuckwagon tool which looks something like a mezzaluna.

There’s more in the Winter 2019-2020 Gallery on the website.

Gratitude and the Demonic Squirrels

“The essence of all beautiful art, all great art, is gratitude.”  ~Friedrich Nietzsche

Driving away from my third and final camp in the California desert last week, I felt luxurious waves of gratitude.  I had enjoyed precious time in the wilderness and solitude.  I have the means to share gratitude with anyone interested in looking, through photographic images.  My spouse encourages me to do these things, which in itself is no small blessing.

“I am 20 miles or more from the nearest fellow human, but instead of loneliness I feel loveliness. Loveliness is a quiet exultation.” - Edward Abbey

The details are also worthy of gratitutde; winter sunshine and the sounds of coyotes hunting, unrushed time to contemplate, and the mundane blessings of nighttime propane heat and shelter from the wind.

“And we see more if we go to those obscure places, the ones with primitive roads and no facilities, because then we face this warp and woof of time alone in silence and with only the bubbling of love and memories to keep us company.” Charles Bowden

When I stumble on quotes which resonate, I enshrine them in my journal.  Recently I noticed a thread among them, about encountering gratitude and a muse in the quiet places.  Though they may appeal most to the introverts among us, they contain the footprints of universal truth.

“Art doesn’t happen unless you can rest enough to take the time “ ~Christa Sadler

“I travel in wild country a great deal, often alone, and my friends find this to be fatally eccentric, although they use the more polite term “stupid.” They feel sorry for me because I miss the fun of camping in groups, same sex or mixed. Perhaps I am too cranky to know any better. I go afield to calm myself, to sort out the demonic squirrels in my head.” ~Ellen Meloy

Here’s to the cranky and to calming the Demonic Squirrels, Ellen.  Cheers.

As usual, there’s more on the website.

Dirtbags With Benefits

Dirtbags in the snow.

Dirtbag (according to Urban Dictionary): A person who is committed to a given … lifestyle to the point of abandoning employment and other societal norms in order to pursue said lifestyle. Dirtbags can be distinguished from hippies by the fact that dirtbags have a specific reason for… living non-hygienically; dirtbags are seeking to spend all of their moments pursuing their lifestyle.

Perhaps I’m only an intermittent dirtbag, but by the end of the 8-day Mojave Desert overland, I certainly felt like one.  I was disconnected from societal norms like celebrating Christmas and taking hot showers.  That being said, though we weren’t “roughing it smoothly,” as the folks in giant RVs say, we did benefit from a fridge and propane furnace.  On second thought, I’m a dirtbag with benefits.

Marco hadn’t been camping with me since the 2018 winter solstice trip.  Having his company was exciting, as was our plan to boondock (camp outside campgrounds) as much as possible.  In the end there was but one night of seven in a campground, and for that we had a good reason, I promise.

 

Rainbow in the Mojave Desert.  Lurch is the tiny dot at lower right.

I had a chance to show Marco a spot off the beaten path for our first night.  This place was my favorite discovery last season.  In all my camping nights there, I’ve never encountered another human.  It rained (a perfect excuse for a nap) and I’d forgotten my good snow boots, so I trudged off into the sand dunes in my plastic rain boots (not so great for hiking) without much hope for the overcast sunset.  As the lottery ads say, “you can’t win if you don’t play;” I was rather glad I got out that evening when the rainbow showed up.

 

Storm light in the Mojave Preserve

We had a plan for the next night in the Mojave Preserve but turned back (not for the last time, it turned out) when the truck started squirming alarmingly in the mud.  I had some notes on my wish list for exploration, and we were able to discover a great new spot in the Joshua Trees.  And, there was photogenic fog.

 

Lee Flat Sunrise, Death Valley National Park

From there we headed up to Death Valley, thinking we might spend one night in the developed part of the park.  There’s a little kiosk near the park entrance where visitors can pay the entrance fee.  I was aghast to see at least 40 cars there and a long queue of standing people at the automated pay station.  All the major attractions from there to the developed area were choked with people.  We needed a “plan “B” and settled on Lee Flat.  We spent two nights there but scooted out to Lone Pine between them for a phone signal to learn whether we were at risk of getting stuck in that day’s snowstorm.  I knew the weather would be gray and uninspiring, but the forecast called for clearing before the next dawn.  It was one of the most spectacular mornings I’ve ever seen and was well worth sitting in the camper reading and playing gin rummy through the stormy previous afternoon. Yes, even despite the overnight low of 17F

From there we headed out Racetrack Valley Road and explored Hidden Valley.  We found icy roads, more mud lurking under the snow, and a 4WD truck abandoned and sunk to the axles. We backed up carefully and considered ourselves lucky. 

 

The Racetrack and Grandstand from the north

There was one, rather uninspiring, camp spot. It was an unproductive day photographically, but I’ll chalk it up to exploration.  The next morning, I chanced a slightly different view of the famous Racetrack.  Perhaps this alone was worth the detour.

The night at Mesquite Springs Campground was convenient for the next day’s tour through the long-closed Scotty’s Castle.  The road and parts of the historic complex were washed out during an October 2015 flood.  The Park’s Natural History Association is partnering with the park service on these tours, which raise money for restoration projects.

 

Ubehebe sunrise

In any case there were a couple of unexpected benefits of staying at Mesquite.  The temperature was 55F and we felt like we were lounging on the beach.  We were also surprised to find we’d camped just across from a friend from Moab and enjoyed happy hour with him. The next morning's sunrise at nearby Ubehebe Crater was a treat as well.

 

Layers at the last camp

The last camp spot is an old favorite.  Sadly, we missed sunset (before 5:00 in California’s winter), but I took a few shots and we enjoyed boondocking on our own again before heading home and hitting the showers.

More from the 2019 Solstice trip are in the Winter 2019-20 Gallery on the website.  Sorry, no more pics of the dirtbags.  We looked pretty bad by the time we headed home.