Monday, September 12, 2011

Bob-Kats on the Road 9-12-11

On the Road Again - Pescadero to Monterey

Marshall, Michigan by Kat
In June we tucked our RV and Jeep in storage and went home to Michigan for two months . . . a long two months.  But we are back on the road now and a blog is overdue.
   
After a week at the parents in Los Altos, our first stop was Pescadero.  So we saw the elephant seals, walked in the redwoods and went to Duarte’s of Diners and Dives fame.
Pescadero, California by Bob
Elephant Seals (Not our Photo)
Sea Lions by Bob


Monterey

We moved on down the road to Monterey.   Bob had generously taken me to the world class aquarium there several times.  I say generously as he does not especially care about fish and really does not like zoo-type venues, so outside of going to the Giant Artichoke in nearby Castroville for deep fried artichokes, there was only one reason we were going to Monterey – birds, of course.  We had tickets to go on a pelagic birding trip.  Pelagic means ocean, so obviously you have to go on a boat for this and not just a 30-minute buzz around the bay “whale watching” (ha – whales in 30 minutes?), but this was an eight- hour trip out to the edge of the shelf where it drops straight down a few thousand feet.  Bob is not crazy about water either.  So, there was some preparation needed, mental as well as assembling of bird lists, Dramamine, and a dry run to Fisherman’s Wharf to check our departure site and boat.
Our Boat by Bob
The morning of the big trip dawned gray and dismal – perfect birding weather.  Generally, we are fairly confident in the field – answering questions from novices and discoursing knowledgably to them about various birds.   Within about 30 seconds of stepping on the boat, however, we realized we were in fast company.  We were going to be at the bottom on this bird totem pole, so to speak, and our best bet was to zip it – smile a lot, learn a lot and remain totally silent.  Birding is after all something of a science and it offers abundant opportunities to look like a complete fool.  The simplest thing will betray you.  For instance, authors of bird books, would it freaking kill you to offer a pronunciation key in your darn book?  Some of these things are in Latin, for pete’s sake.  Anybody out there want to take a stab at pileatus or lazuli?  Long or short I?
Bob readies to mingle with “Heavy-Weights” by Kat
Anyway, there were perhaps 40 people and maybe $80,000 worth of binoculars.  More correctly, that would be $76,400 – that’s $2,000 a piece for them and $200 for us.   Just guessing.   Our leader was Debi Shearwater and she was most definitely up to this task.  She told us this was going to be difficult, and it was.  She told us not to throw up in the toilet under any circumstances or off the front of the boat for more obvious reasons.  She told us to hang on at all times to something secure – not the fishing poles -- also very wise.  If you must go to sea for eight hours, this is your woman.  She will keep you safe and you will see birds (or else!).  There is a movie coming out called “The Big Year”.  Debi is in this movie and her character will be played by Angelica Huston.  Yes, I’m serious - and I feel sure Angelica Huston is just the one to play her.  (Debi maintains that no matter what, she has never pulled a knife on a tour participant).
Debi by Bob



The first 20 minutes on the boat were enough to sort the wheat from the chaff.  The boat was making good time, despite what I would call some heavy seas.  I am fairly sure this was an ordinary day on the Pacific, but the swells looked enormous to my land-lubber eyes and the boat felt like an amusement park ride.  In pretty quick order four people dashed to the back of the boat, tossed everything they could possibly toss and then retired in unison to separate corners of the cabin where they remained for the next eight hours .  All of them had the same posture – heads cradled in arms, eyes firmly closed, unmoving and unmoved by suggestions to “go out and get some air”.  Soon, we were all treating them like four backpacks, stepping over them and around them.  I have never seen people so pitifully and so dreadfully ill, that all recovered promptly at 3:20 p.m. on the same day.
 
There were also on board spotters that would assist in finding birds for us.  They did this without pay, just for the joy of the trip and they were wonderful, all of them.  But one was a stand-out.  He was a tousle-haired youngster of maybe 20 -- or 30 who knows -- and he was absolutely amazing.  He could talk (and he did continuously for eight hours) about birds and suddenly yell “Sabine’s Gull at 2 o’clock!”  Where?  Do you possibly mean that speck on the horizon, the horizon that is moving up and down some 15 feet in each direction?  And every time, it was as he said.   He never missed a word and at the same time, never missed a bird, apparently.  We did not know it, but this was to be a record-setting trip and Abe got the bird.   He not only got the bird, he photographed it because in addition to wielding a pair of binoculars, he also had a camera with about four feet of lens on it strapped around this neck, which he could point and focus, all while standing on a wildly heaving wet boat.  I remain in awe.
Suddenly, the call “Risso dolphin!!”  What?  With my life-long interest in marine life, I have never heard of a Risso dolphin, so apparently I don’t know squat about that either.  And it’s not like they are small and rare.  They are as big as Volkswagens – the dorsal fin coming towards us seemed over our heads.  And they are abundant in all warm waters of the world.  And they are on the “least concern” list meaning they are under no threat.  What is the secret of their success under the world radar?  My opinion:  they are not very attractive.  They have a dark skin early on and nicks result in white scars.  And apparently they are rather clumsy, running regularly into each other’s teeth.  They look like belugas that are covered in a crisscross network of white scars.
Risso Dolphins (Not our photo)
So, instead of living in a pool doing circus tricks with Flipper and Shamu, they cavort and play wild and free in the waves with a sly smile on their faces.  I feel there is a lesson here somewhere, but will leave it to you to work out.
More calls of different birds, wonderful birds.  Our favorites were the Black-footed Albatross and Pomarine Jaeger.  The Albatross  followed us for hours and we loved him.  He was a master in the air – strong, graceful, agile.  He might even dip a wing in the surf, rather casually.  At the same time, there was a bit of gentleness in the face, perhaps some golden retriever in the eyes.  It was enchanting.
Black-footed Albatross by Bob
Pomarine Jaeger by Bob
And other birds harder for a novice to see as anything other than the catch-all “seagull”.  The following birds are in the order of sighting and were either too far away or too difficult be photographed without the fear of going overboard:  Elegant Tern, Black Oyster Catcher, Black Turnstone, Peregrine Falcon, Sooty Shearwater, Northern Fulmar, Rhinoceros Auklet, Ashy Storm Petrel, Common Tern, Red Neck Phalarope, Sabin Gull, Parasitic Jaeger, California Gull, Heermann’s Gull, Black Storm Petrel, Fork-Tailed Storm Petrel.
And a word about those ubiquitous “seagulls”.  They are not SEAgulls.  They are Sabine’s gulls, Heerman’s gulls, Bonaparte gulls, and if you do not know, they are simply gulls.  But they are never seagulls.  I did not know this before the trip, but escaped disgrace by being silent.  “Jonathan Livingston Glaucous Gull” would probably not have been made into that charming film.
And finally, just when things were lagging a bit, Abe electrified the boat:  “Great Winged Petrel”!!!!  Debi screams to Captain Tinker “Follow that bird!!”  Everyone on the boat moved as one to port and the boat accelerated in that direction.  Amazing there wasn’t a mass overbroad.  No one cared.  We were in chase of a Great Winged Petrel and the excitement was palpable!  This bird breeds on small islands in New Zealand.  It has only been recorded in North America three times – and now four.  This is hard to explain to the “unwashed”, but this is big in birding circles.  Huge.  There were high fives, people expressing thanks they were there, mentions of absent ones who will be so sorry to have missed it.
Great-winged Petrel (Not our photo)
We never caught the bird.  It sailed off out of site.  But no matter, we had seen it – at first a dark silhouette against the sea, then speck in the sky, a golden moment in which it was there.  And we all knew how far it had come to give us that moment.
And just when we were catching our breath, another call by Abe – “Killer Whales!!”  And there they were three of them – a large one, a small one and a medium on side by side, a family likely.  They were beautiful and showed themselves many times.
Orcas by Bob
When someone with better eyes or a better boat position than me saw that the larger one had a seal in its mouth, we decided to break off the chase.  We were sated by our other finds at that point , and happy to see them go on their way to do whale things.
An aside, it was a marvelous moment and one that made me feel just a bit better.  They are, of course, Orcas, but in the excitement of the moment the old term Killer Whales just comes out of even the most educated and – cool.  I liked that.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Bob-Kats on the Road 5-17-11

Oh dear, what have we done?
So, we went back to Tucson and we loved it.  We had a wonderful three weeks there.  It was almost time to leave for Los Angeles and it was time for an oil change for Queenie.  We named her that as a shortcut to avoid enunciating m o t o r h o m e 12 times a day.  It seemed an appropriate name because she was as large and white as an ocean liner, i.e. the Queen Mary (Okay, it’s a little dated).
She had been a good girl and we loved her.  She was cozy and candles made her glow with warmth and hominess in the dark windy night.  We were waiting and to while away the time, I asked a salesman in the RV place if we could take a look at the Phaeton on the lot.   Less than 24 hours later, we had traded Queenie and bought the Phaeton. 
How to explain this bit of insanity?  We loved what we were doing – living in a place for a while and moving on when we felt the spirit push us.  We would not go back to a house NOT on wheels, not for a good while at least.  “Cozy” also meant stacking your clothes, hair-dryer, etc. on the stove while you were in the tiny Barbie bathroom and one person in the kitchen and the other waiting in the bedroom for an opportunity at the toaster.  And other things largely around the gas engine –v- diesel.  Diesel = more power, more speed, more weight pulled.  (And more $, don’t mention that)
So, we bought the Phaeton.  It seemed like the right thing to do.

Man daunted by new toy

A day later, we were moving in.  They park the new one next to your old one and you move.  Sounds easy enough.

Movin’ day

But it was 97 degrees and sunny that day, probably 110 on the black top parking lot.  And it was just like any move:  there is way more stuff than you thought and it takes way more time.  And we still had to drive 200 miles.  We began to just shove stuff anywhere.  I watched in dismay as cupboards and closets filled up.
First misgiving
Is it possible that this monster is actually smaller than Queenie?  A lot of the space seemed to be in the living room between the chairs and sofa and in the ceiling.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t usually keep clothing and pots and pans there.
Also, was beginning to feel quite sad about leaving Queenie and I felt that she was sad as well watching us move away into this fancy thing.  This probably comes from too many TV shows as a child (“My Mother the Car”) and too many Disney-type movies (“Cars”).  And perhaps also, from my propensity to name inanimate objects.  I probably should not do that.  I have enough difficulty with animate things.

Last moments with sweet Queenie

White knuckles
Finally, late in the day, all is done and this ox is our ox and we are off – terrified.  There is a learning curve here moving up to something larger, heavier and also diesel is a bit different.  But the ride is so smooth, so quiet, 65 MPH so easy – nothing like the gas engine.  And there are toys.  An air horn!  Ever wanted to strike back (benignly of course) at annoying people in the highway?  K W O N K K K!!  So fun!  We sped along almost relaxing in the desert twilight.

We’re out of here

Blythe, CA
As long as I can remember, I have known about Blythe, a small bleached bone of a town baking perpetually in the California desert.  It frequently holds the high temp record for the whole country.  Not that I have ever been there, but it was in my mind as a horror of a place, so that whatever awful place I lived in (Dayton, Ohio) I could always comfort myself with the knowledge that at least it was not Blythe.  I had an unreasonable fear that if I ever drove through there, the car would break and I would somehow have to live there. ( Later on Blythe was replaced in that regard by the entire State of West Virginia.)
So, we were headed to the Blythe KOA, which was exactly half way to LA and the only choice (check the map).  There are no directions on the website and there was a conflict between the GPS and MapQuest. 
The worst happens
We missed the small totally unmarked road to KOA.  We missed it by three blocks and are now stopped in that position on the road.  We cannot back up with the jeep in tow.  We cannot turn around as we are too big.  The road ahead is unpromising – dark and narrow – and the GPS is sketchy about what is up there.  Just as I always feared, I am going to have to live in Blythe, CA for the rest of my life. 
Well, didn’t happen obviously since I am writing this from the beach and there are none of those in Blythe.  We got out and dropped the jeep and I drove off in search of the KOA.  It was miles away and nowhere near where GPS or MapQuest said it was.  The night clerk (which I will always think of as the Knight clerk) followed me to Bob and stopped traffic so Bob could turn around at a cross road.  Blythe KOA, put some darn directions on your website, a sign, something!!!  But you have a wonderful night person working there, so you are OK by me. 
All is well that ends well
We bedded down in our new home, not quite at home and a bit shaken.  After a harrowing drive on LA freeways, we arrived at Dockweiler Beach State Park where we are parked Oceanside with our toes nearly in the Pacific.




We are now truly moved in with Bob, the master packer, finding ample space for everything and room to spare.  We have spent the last 10 days luxuriating in all our new space.  So many places to sit, doors that close and make separate rooms, each of us has our own sink and vanity.  Never will I take such things for granted again!








We are nearly at the end of our trip – this part of it.  We will leave the Phaeton (no name) in San Jose and go home for a bit.  Then we shall head north for further adventures.

 
 

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Bob-Kats on the Road 4-21-11

Back-Tracking

So, we left Borrego Springs and went back to Tucson. You can do that stuff when you are retired and do not have to explain to anyone. Just do it, as they say. But, if anyone wants to know, we did it because we were happy in Tucson and because Tucson may be the most perfect place on earth -- at least this time of year.

But it occurs to me that there are a lot of things I wanted to show you that we didn’t have time for on the way to Borrego Springs.

Marfa, TexasBest known for the “lights of Marfa”. They are mysterious. That is pretty much what I know. Lights that appear for no known reason and some residents, apparently spooked by such an event, link them to UFOs. We had left Big Bend on our way west and Marfa is along that path. There is not much out there, but my eye catches something. It looks one of those cubical things that people shelter in as they wait for a bus. No, no … it’s a tiny Prada store? Yes, that is it exactly.




Well, it isn’t really. It’s art. I knew that. And I knew just who to ask about it. Brian, of course, and he knew the people who created it. On the internet if you wish further enlightenment, but it’s definitely the coolest thing in Marfa.

Van Horn, TexasVery nice little town full of very nice people. We were there one night. Everything was fine until time to go. The jacks wouldn’t go up and the slides wouldn’t go in. This is a fairly serious problem in that you no longer have a moving home, but a fully stationary one and that home is now located at the KOA in Van Horn, Texas. Phone calls were made. Mike at Thor Motor Coach became my new best friend. A jerry-rigged solution was found and we were on our way to Las Cruces, New Mexico where permanent repairs could be made.

Las Cruces, New MexicoI loved New Mexico years ago and was happy to discover that I still do. Just crossing the state line made me smile. Part of it could have been relief at having made it through El Paso in one piece, but mostly I was just happy to be back in New Mex. And I immediately loved Las Cruces as well.
The KOA there was great. Situated atop a high hill, it overlooks the city and faces the mountains on the other side making for amazing views. We had the high rent real estate on the edge for our site, so no one between us and the view. I could hardly make myself go to bed at night. I just wanted to sit and look.


New Mexico has without a doubt the most spectacular sunsets of any place I have ever been.

White Sands National Monument, New Mexico

I am speechless.





Reminder - it's close to100 degrees F








Interesting thing: The white stuff is not sand. It is gypsum. (White Gypsum National Monument? Not quite the right ring to it) If you walk barefoot on it at high noon mid-summer, it will feel cool on your feet. It will not stick to your clothes. I tested this out. See below.


I am assuming that none of you would take the trouble to go to New Mexico and then drive on past White Sands, but just in case DO NOT MISS THIS!!!

Tucson, ArizonaI was here maybe 10 years ago, but had either failed to notice or forgotten that Tucson is surrounded by beautiful mountains. (had a lot on my mind apparently) There was nothing I did not like about this place. Well, maybe one thing -- there is no good way to get from the city into the mountains. It is not far and it is not far even to the top of Mount Lemmon, but stop and go traffic, traffic lights all the way to the base of it? Tucson, build a parkway, expressway, whatever, but fix this! So, it takes an hour to get there, but oh, so worth it.

You pass through the dessert with its emblematic saguaros, climb quickly, the saguaros disappear and other trees and plants appear and then disappear to be replaced themselves by something completely different and then you are flying above the city, seeing beyond the city. You are at 8,000 feet amid tall pines and outside where it was quite hot when you left, there is now snow in places. You can’t quite believe this even though you have stopped at every single turn out along the way to verify this was indeed happening. I know this sounds like I have not gotten out of Marshall, Michigan in the last half century, but I don’t care -- I was completely wowed by it all!
















And at the top of the mountain, one of our favorite birds, the yellow-eyed junco -- who is at once cute and fierce-looking.





Wellton, Arizona

An overnight here. I thought it a strange place as it seems to be nearly completely comprised of senior housing parks. I mean acres of them. Trailers, prefab houses, RV’s, whatever you can think of to live in, they’ve got them. There is really not much else there.


Between the various housing parks, are large agricultural fields. I don’t know what this is -- garlic? -- but I do like the picture.

Los Angeles, California

A short but rather harrowing drive from Borrego Springs. Bob thought it might cheer me up to see my grandchildren. It did.


Jakob studies a flower. Megan is sure he will be a botanist now.

Misha took her blanket with her on a walk in case she got sleepy along the way.