Monday, June 19, 2017

The Politicization of White Sands National Monument





When you live in Alamogordo and have out-of-town visitors turn up it's pretty much written in the rules that you have to take them to White Sands National Monument. No, really! I can show you the page where it says so!

I was here at the Monument many years ago when passing through the area. How many years I'm not sure but it was before I started blogging, well before I was retired. My favorite part of that visit was hiking the Dune Life Nature Trail which is within a couple miles of the park entrance.

This was a self-guided hike over and around the dunes with numbered stations that corresponded with information on a handout you could get from the visitor center. (Did you know that some of the plants here, which pretty much all get their start on bare ground between the dunes, will continue to grow upward as the dunes blow in and will end up with root systems as tall as the dunes they're sitting on?!)

Little did I know at the time that I will likely never be able to walk that trail again.

One of the several abandoned pullouts along the road safety corridor. No longer available to anybody but lawbreakers and Border Patrol.

It seems that the first 4 miles of the Monument's road have now been designated a 'road safety corridor' and you are not allowed to even slow down, let alone stop, anywhere along there. (Although we were forced to stop right in the middle of this no-stop zone by a ranger that was inexplicably blocking the road. As we sat and waited he would release a single vehicle every 5 minutes or so, allowing it to continue on deeper into the monument, but keep the rest of us waiting. I guess after a while he got tired of this senseless crap, maybe his coffee had run out, because eventually he let the rest of the growing line go by en-mass with no explanation.)

I have since tried to look up this 'road safety corridor' but found nothing to explain it. There is a different kind of  road safety corridor that is all about stretches of federal highways with a higher than normal incidence of wrecks where enforcement and traffic fines are increased, but I'm sure they would be hard put to pass that reasoning off on this short dead-end two-lane stretch of 35 MPH road, and even if they could that still doesn't explain the no-slowing, no-stopping rule.

For lack of any other explanation my personal take is that this restriction has nothing to do with safety at all and everything to do with the odious 'Internal Border Control Check Station' that is just south of the park entrance stopping all northbound traffic.

These stations are where everybody, including citizens traveling withing their own country, (They don't give a damn.) is subject to being scanned for explosives, radiation, and warm bodies tucked into hidden compartments, looked up on the computer (Via your license plate) to see if you are worthy or not, sniffed by dogs and questioned by armed guards, (Does this sound like the modernized version of Nazi checkpoints throughout conquered Europe??) all because, in part Border Control didn't do their job - well, you know - at the border. . . but mainly because of a power-grab by Homeland Security and the government in general. (If you let them have it they will take it and never give it back. The founders of this country, whom we have grievously let down, knew this well and tried to put safeguards in place, but the greedy and power-hungry will always find a way if not enough are willing to stand against them.)

Everybody knows where these fixed check stations are so now Border Control needs to appropriate even more vehicles and manpower in order to run around the nearby countryside attempting to nab anyone trying to walk around the checkpoint. Of course it makes their job easier if the only vehicles stopping in the area are the ones picking up 'bypassers'. (And it doesn't matter if you are a citizen or not, if caught on foot in the area, even if you are doing nothing more than exercising your right to walk on public land, you will, at the very least, be escorted from the area with a stern talking to.)

Unfortunately the Dune Life Nature Trail is right in the middle of this zone so it has been lost to all of us, now and most likely well into the future. (The Monument web site states that this and the Playa trails are "temporarily" closed but I'm not buying that crap!)




Fortunately the Interdune Boardwalk is beyond the so-called safety corridor and still accessible.



There's a plethora of information along the not-quite half mile boardwalk



And in the places where people haven't jumped over the side and Nike'ed the ground with designer footprints (You are asked to stay on the boardwalk in this sensitive area but apparently that's asking too much of some of us!) the fine sand retains prints of passing insects,



wandering birds



and even dancing plants!



So take your time on the boardwalk and enjoy this unique habitat,



because with the demise of both the Dune Life Nature and Playa Trails this is pretty much it other than the sledding.



One word of warning about traversing the boardwalk though. The composite deck and handrail are laid over an aluminum support structure and the combination of bone-dry air and relentless wind (Note the firm grip on the straw hat!) builds up quite a static charge just waiting to wallop your ass!


Ahh yes, the sledding!  Back in Alamo this morning we all jammed into one car. It wasn't the smallest car you can get, but it's not all that big either, yet there was no question that we find space for a couple of sledding disks because that's what you do at White Sands!

Apparently there used to be three sledding disks but on a previous trip someone (They are in this photo and know who they are!) took a bit of a flying leap and broke one of them. . .

But even with only two sleds, after making the climb up



there was the sledding down







Only problem with that



is that there are no lifts or tow-lines out here. . .

Fortunately one really cool (Yep, pun intended.) feature about the gypsum sand of White Sands is that even under the summer sun the sand stays cool, in fact bury your feet a few inched down on a blazing summer day and the sand is downright chilly!



Before we leave White Sands, this is why the Tularosa basin is hazy most afternoons during the windy season. The spring sun starts to warm the relatively cool air near the ground in the morning, which sends said air skyward, which causes cool air to come rushing, viciously I might add, down the mountains to fill the gap, and so on and so on.

The very fine gypsum sand, more like dust really, is picked up off the dunes by this action and lifted to amazing heights. It's a wonder there's any left!!

But for now it's time to go because I'm taking my fair share of sand with me and it's going to take a while to get all of it out of - well - everywhere. . .


Saturday, June 17, 2017

Buzzards of a Feather Flock Together





Found this Black Vulture feather in the driveway.



Seemed fitting for a broken-down hat that another old buzzard wears around the property!


Thursday, June 15, 2017

Alamo - Cloudcroft - Ruidoso - Tularosa


Have you ever spent Thanksgiving dinner trapped between the table and the china-hutch with one divorced parent to your right and the other to your left, putting you right in the crossfire??  Sat through the palatable tension in the midst of a miasma of malice? (I mean more so than a normal Thanksgiving dinner.)

No, me neither. But try to use your imagination anyway and multiply that dinner by a whole long weekend!

I'm asking because I recently had the opportunity to participate is just such an event. Now that could have been a bad thing, a really bad thing, but fortunately I had the maliciously delightful honor of being one of said divorced parents!!!  (Oh, excuse me. I seem to have some spiteful glee dribbling down my chin. . .) Definitely a weird situation, but then again sometimes life is just weird.

In preparation for the Weekend of visitors-from-hell I moved The Van from Oliver Lee to The Daughter's (Son-in-law too of course.) house in Alamogordo. (which translates as Fat or Thick Poplar)

Very conveniently their house comes complete with a double gate into the side yard that I can just squeeze The Van through. While doing so I only have to run over a little bit of the neighbor's yard in order to avoid scraping the solar panel off on the eave of the garage. (Desert yards are gravel so all you mid-westerners freaked out about The Van trampling the manicured-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life grass can relax.)



This meant that even though TD & TSIL (The Daughter and The Son-In-Law) only have the one guest room yet two "guests", rather than being relegated to sharing the couch with Lula, (A big dog that I'm not sure would welcome a couch-mate with open paws.) I could repose in the luxury of my own domicile yet be right there ready to go in the morning.



Morning came with a (strangely disappointing.) lack of rancor between The Parents that could have even been mistaken for civility. (I mean come-on! Where's the fun in a 35 year old divorce if you're going to be civil about it??!)

Anyway, the plan for this day was drive up to Cloudcroft, from there take SR 244 and US 70 through the Mescalero Apache Reservation and on into Ruidoso. From Ruidoso we'd drop back down through the reservation on US 70 to hit, arguably, the most important stop of the day, dinner at a favorite place in Tularosa. (The kids are foodies in case you wondered, and they specialize in independent (Never chain!) restaurants of merit, merit by their own standards, and frankly so far they have only discovered a few in the area that meet the grade and we were headed to one of them.)



The first stop of the day was Osha Trail. Yep, the same Osha Trail where dame altitude thoroughly molested me, and not in the good way, a few days ago.

But in deference to the old-farts tagging along, (Hey! I resemble that remark!) we only tramped the short distance up to the overlooks then turned back and thunked our way one heavy step at a time down hill again. I don't think the TD & TSIL relished the thought of having to carry one or both of The Parents back down to the car so they were taking it easy on us.

I either am now, or once was, related to everybody in this photo and I'm not entirely sure they're all happy about that!!

All of us, young and old, survived that little slice of Osha Trail, and piled back into the car for a short detour to a brief stop at an overlook along the Sunspot Highway south of Cloudcroft.




The view from here is down into the Tularosa Basin, which was formed when this whole area from the Sacramento Mountains on the east to the San Andres Mountains on the west bulged upwards like a giant zit on the face of the earth some 25 million years ago. Like a fisherman with one foot on the dock and the other on a boat drifting on out into the lake, eventually this big bulge stretched things to the breaking point and a big chunk in the middle, as in 4500 square miles worth of chunk, dropped some 3000 to 4000 feet in order to plug the growing gap, thus the basin was formed.

From here the little community of High Rolls is visible about 4.5 miles down Haynes Canyon (10.5 miles by road.) and La Luz, sitting on the edge of the basin 10.5 miles away by air, (nearly 19 miles by road) is tucked in there behind Mill Ridge,

La Luz sits just below the confluence of the La Luz and Fresnal Creeks where there was plenty of water and it was the main community in the area until the railroads made Alamogordo king.

The Alamogordo and Sacramento Mountain Railroad used to go through La Luz and on up Fresnal Canyon to High Rolls, pretty much where County Road A60 runs today, but the interchange with the El Paso and Northeastern railroad was actually in Alamogordo, which, like railroad towns did in those days, grew into the commercial center of the area.

This is kind of fishy since Alamogordo sits in a spot where only one small canyon, Marble Canyon, splits the Sacramento Mountain escarpment that it's nestled up against. This means that in the late 1800's there was virtually no reliable water source nearby, in other words no discernible reason for Alamogordo to prosper over La Luz unless you count shady back-room dealings. (Even today Alamogordo is largely run by a loose affiliation of business leaders referred to by locals as The Shifty Fifty.)



Just east of Cloudcroft SR 244 heads north and quickly crosses into the Reservation as it slips along beside Silver Springs Creek before taking a hard left at Elk Canyon to eventually come out on US 70.

The drive through the reservation on the 4-lane US 70 is pretty, but the views along the alpine valleys traversed by the two-lane SR 244 beats that all to hell. But I was in the back seat and didn't even try to get any photos along the way so you'll have to drive it yourself to see.



Our destination was the resort town of Ruidoso (Which, rather appropriately given the draw of the 'resort' stuff in the area, translates as Noisy or Rowdy.)

More specifically we were headed to Grindstone Lake. Sitting there right along the southern edge of Ruidoso this is a popular spot with plenty of trails to keep the hiker, equestrian or mountain-biker happy.



Grindstone Lake is a man-made water-supply reservoir and it's starkly apparent that this area has been going through a drought lately.



But that didn't stop us from sampling a couple of the many trails in the area.


Being at around 7000 feet the area surrounding the lake is within the Alligator Juniper's range. With it's odd looking bark this is a hard tree to miss but not one you want to rub up against!

The Daughter is not shy about photo bombing  and being of the social media age and not as cynical and suspicious as her old man, doesn't mind her face being posted, but I'm not going to do it for her, though I'm not sure she will appreciate my choice of cover-up here,



OK, here's a riddle for you. When it's windy as hell and your hat has no chinstrap to prevent it pinwheeling down the trail ahead of you, what do you do???

Why, you put a rock on top of course!!




Then you can hike hands-free to your heart's content. . .



Of course if you're going to play in the water, which admit it, is an absolute requirement, (Every single one of us had to test it at one point or another, and yep, it was wet.) you just might loose your rock!!

Note that the hat-keeper-oner-rock is still doing its job here

We didn't get too carried away with the hiking, after all this is up around 7000 feet, but somehow we managed to use up a good part of the day just poking around various places in the Sacramento Mountains and it was now time to think about heading back down to the basin where food was awaitin'!!

Way back in the dark ages when I was a kid riding in the back seat with my two siblings things didn't always go too well back there. So far The Parents have managed to share that same space all day without any overt sign of a pinch, punch, eye-gouge, foot-stomp or even a hint of a squabble. Frankly I'm kind-a disappointed in myself. I mean where's the fun in parenting if you can't torture your kids with a little payback? But hey! The weekend isn't over yet!!






Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Re-Powering The Van


Disclaimer!!  I have never claimed to be an expert so this is not a how-to but rather a how-I-did-it.

Looking down into the electrical compartment under the gaucho. The cushion and house batteries have been removed for now.

OK, so yeah, this is probably not the kind of re-power all you gear-heads were thinking about, but The Van, and I, feel a lot better now that I’ve pulled the $650 Tripp-Lite Inverter/Charger, that silver ribbed box in the lower left, with its 2000 Watts of inverter power and 50 amps of charge current


and replaced it with this $150, 15 amp  IOTA Converter with IQ4 charge controller.


Some of y'all are going to shake your heads and wonder just what this fool is thinking, going backwards like that! And that's understandable.

But think of it in terms of a couple owning a 5-bedroom/5 ½ bath house that they only use a fraction of; oh, and by the way, the furnace needs replacing. Now think of them selling that house and replacing it with a 1 bedroom/1 bath + den bungalow that they use every room of.  Setting aside all that ‘Great American Dream’ crap that Madison Avenue has indoctrinated us with since birth, is that really going backwards, or is it intelligent asset and resource management??

OK, regardless of what you think about that scenario, before I get to the nuts and bolts of actually making the equipment switch let me run down my reasoning here. It might not change your opinion of how many marbles my jar still holds, but then again, who knows. . .

True, by giving up the Tripp-Lite inverter I no longer have access to 120V power when not hooked up to shore-power; but then again I hardly ever used the inverter anyway. In fact the inverter had far more time on it from the 15 minute monthly test/exercise it got than it ever had for real. Oh, and by the way, (See how I cleverly repeated that phrase from a couple paragra - - Oh never mind. . .) during one of those monthly tests I discovered that the inverter had failed. (Which is exactly why I’m a stickler about regular tests of things not often used. Find out before you need it!) This failure was disappointing given how few hours the inverter had been run in its 4 years of active life (Yep, a year out of warranty!) but since I didn’t use it anyway, no big deal; except that I began to suspect that the dead inverter was bleeding off a few of my incoming shore-power volts. (I won’t get into the guts of how inverters like this work other than to point out that shore-power has to be processed by the inverter before it’s passed on to the rest of the electrical system and I’m not sure all of it was being passed on.)

True, by replacing a 50 amp charger (The charger portion of the Tripp-Lite continued to work after the inverter failed.) with a puny 15 amp charger it’s going to take a bit longer to recover from a deep, or even moderate, discharge state; but, with 180 watts of solar on the roof and modest usage I don’t get into a deep-discharge situation very often, and even so, whenever I plug into shore-power it’s going to be at least 12 hours before I unplug again, so what’s the rush? In fact, fast charges put more wear and tear on batteries than modest charges, yet even with the Tripp-Lite set to low-charge-current mode in an attempt to mitigate this fast-charge stress, it still output nearly 30 amps.

True, even throttled back to low-charge mode the Tripp-Lite could easily support almost 30 amps of prolonged 12V load; but my peak 12V load is more like 10 amps, and then only when I’m trying to get it up there by running the fridge, the fantastic vent fan on high, the overhead recessed lights (So bright I call them landing lights) charging up my laptop and plugging in the 100W inverter to charge some dead double-A’s, all at the same time. The 15 amp IOTA can handle the 10 amp load just fine.

As you can see in the photo above, which I didn’t think to take until after I ripped the face off the Tripp-Lite, and I’ll get to why in a moment, there is a big size difference between the Tripp-Lite and the comparatively puny IOTA. Since, for obvious reasons, I will not be using the recovered space there in what amounts to an electrical compartment for extra storage, the size difference is not a big gain for me, but the Tripp-Lite has one big-ass transformer and equally big bits and pieces which makes it tip the scales at over 40 pounds. The IOTA doesn’t quite get the needle up to 5 pound mark, saving me 35 pounds! Since, collectively, the cabinet doors weigh in at a hair over 35 pounds it’s like I’m carrying them around for free now! (And I get one heck of a lot more use out of the cabinet doors than I did the Tripp-Lite.)



The IOTA is actually a converter, designed to take 120V AC power and deliver 12V DC power, with this model up to 15 amps of it. Hand in hand with the IOTA is the IQ4 Smart Charging module. Without this module the IOTA outputs a steady 13.6 volts which is great for a converter but sucks as a battery charger. With the IQ4 module added the IOTA is turned into a proper 3 stage battery charger (The 4th stage of IQ4 is sort of a mini-equalize which pulses on for a short period after a prolonged float mode.)

I nearly screwed up when ordering my IOTA. I knew I wanted the IQ4 module but without paying enough attention to the details when I was surf-shopping for the best combination of price and shipping costs of the moment, I actually had an IOTA without IQ4 in my cart at one point. . . Not a fatal mistake since IOTA offers an external IQ4 module to upgrade your unit, but still. . .

Now on to the actual demolition/installation.

The first step, in order to prevent any electrical accidents detrimental to my health, was to disconnect shore-power, the solar panel, (This explains why that is so easy to do on The Van) and the batteries.  In this case, since I will be replacing the batteries anyway I just went ahead and removed them altogether. (No need to worry about dropping a tool across the terminals when there’s no terminals there to drop a tool across!)

The IOTA is pretty dang simple. Connect positive and negative wires out to the batteries, ground the IOTA box to The Van’s chassis, and plug the thing in. Done.

Ripping the Tripp-Lite out – well, that complicated things a little.


If I just disconnect the wires, in itself not terribly easy when it means horsing a 40 pound chunk of steel around in a tight space to get at the various connections, then I’ll never get shore-power into The Van’s distribution center because I have one wire coming from the shore-power plug, the upper Black/White/Green set, and a separate wire that goes on to the distribution panel, the lower Green/Black/White set.

Without the Tripp-Lite in between I need to splice those two sets of wires together because the alternative is getting at the backside of the shore-power connection itself to re-do the wiring and eliminate that first wire altogether, but that means pulling out a wall, which means pulling out the gaucho and fridge cabinet, which means pulling the overhead cabinet too. Yeah, not going to happen!

The simplest way to make the splice would be to install an electrical junction box with proper cable clamps attached, all necessary to satisfy code requirements, (And you do not want to screw around with electrical stuff and cheat on code because it will either burn your place down or kill you; sometimes both!) then splice the wires together inside the enclosure with red wire-nuts.

But these wires are stranded. Solid wire is what you usually find inside the walls of homes and it goes under outlet screws and into wire-nuts very well, but stranded wire bends much easier around tight curves which is a decided advantage when running wire in a small, tight space like The Van.

Technically I can use the wire-nuts to join stranded wire, but in my experience I not only need expensive nuts, (Not all wire-nuts are made equal so beware!) but I also have to make the join perfectly, and even then, even with the nuts taped over and back onto the wire itself in a clockwise direction (When looking down at the narrow end of the nut.) with slightly stretched electrical tape to reduce the chance of vibration and/or the natural heating-cooling cycle from loosening the nut, I’ve still come back later and found stranded wire-nut joins loose enough that I could pull one of the wires right out of the splice by hand.

So I’m standing there wondering what to do next when my eye falls on the splice-block there in the Tripp-Lite, that white, vaguely ladder-looking thing and I think ‘perfect’, This type of splice-block will grip stranded wire without loosening up over time and has plenty of contact area to pass  30 amps of power without heating up. (Heat represents lost voltage.)


Only thing is, I find out I have to get to the back side of the Tripp-Lite front panel to remove the bolts holding the splice-block in place. That took a while but I was not going to be deterred by a big chunk of inoperative metal!

By the time I finally had the block in hand the Tripp-Lite was a little worse for wear. . .


It took a lot less time to grab an electrical enclosure and a couple cable-clamps from my junk box, cut the splice-block down to the three positions I need, mount it inside the box and splice the two cables together.

As per electrical code, this splice is not only protected inside a securely mounted enclosure, but there is access to the enclosure for future inspection/service of the splice. (I have a reminder in The Van’s log-book to check the splice after a couple hundred miles of driving just to make sure.) By the way, though it’s commonly done, hiding wire junctions like this behind drywall, siding, or anything else that impedes access to it is a BIG no-no and if you ever catch your electrician/contractor/builder doing that: 1) wonder what else he/she has cheated and skimped on:  2) fire him/her on the spot and find someone else that will do the job right.

Although code requires it anyway, because this junction box is electrically isolated, sitting there on the wood floor like that with no other electrical path to ground, it’s especially important to make sure that short little ground jumper is in place. That ensures that if the incoming black wire, the hot wire, does ever get loose and touch the box itself the 30 amp breaker will trip before I can reach down there and grab a live box!! Likewise, the presence of this little jumper means if the white wire, the neutral, gets loose it will trip the GFCI.

At this point I closed up the enclosure, plugged back into shore-power and verified that all my 120V stuff was working.


The next challenge in installing the IOTA is, once again, the fault of the Tripp-Lite.

Because the Tripp-Lite can output 50 amps of 12V the leads connecting it to the batteries are hefty to say the least! Even if I cut the crimped-on eyelets off these cables there is still far too much wire to fit into the terminals on the IOTA.



My solution, which I didn’t think to photograph until after the fact, was to crimp some large eyelets onto lengths of appropriately colored #10 wire and bolt the eyelets together, red to red and black to black, creating short pigtails that then fit into the IOTA’s terminals.

I wrapped the exposed eyelet – bolt combination with two layers of 600 volt electrician’s tape and one layer of black duct-tape. First a layer of electrical tape to insulate the area, then a layer of duct-tape to provide mechanical protection (Duct-tape stands up to abrasion and blows (From dropped tools, etc.) better than electrical tape.) then a final layer of electrical tape to add even more insulation but more importantly to catch and contain any loose edges and streamline the joint so nothing snags on it.

It looks really strange to have a small wire like that going into such a fat wire, but electrically it works. The IOTA will output 15 amps max yet the 4 inches of #10 wire, the small stuff, will safely carry up to three times that for a prolonged period. (The longer the length the less current a given wire size can carry, conversely, the shorter it is the more current it can safely handle.) The 36 inch long fat wires were sized properly for the Tripp-Lite which means they are much bigger than needed for the 15 amps from the IOTA, but electrical current only cares about too little wire, never too much, so they will do the job just fine and this way I didn’t have to tear into mostly hidden wiring harnesses to replace them.

There are two other things of note in the photo above.

One is the white chassis ground wire that is run back and connected directly to the metal of The Van itself. Again if anything ever goes wrong this wire provides a clear and concise path to ground which will trip any protective breakers or blow any fuses before I can kill myself by grabbing something live.

The second thing is that both the black and red feeds have been secured in place with cable-clamps, most easily seen on the red wire as a black band at the left edge of the photo. This keeps them from moving and chaffing while The Van is moving and chaffing. It also means that if I inadvertently snag one of these wires while messing around inside the compartment, the clamp will help prevent me jerking anything out of its terminal, and since that red wire is connected directly to the hot side of 200 amp-hours of battery, if it got loose that could be a problem! Those cable-clamps are a few pennies each and take about 5 seconds to install so there’s no excuse!


The final step in installing the IOTA is to plug it in.

Once plugged in it’s on and the only way to turn it off is to unplug it. Since I only have shore-power available for significantly less than 50% of the time I’m camping, and I actually use the charger even less than that, leaving it turned off most of the time and relying on the solar system to keep things topped up, I wanted an easy way to start and stop the IOTA and I wanted to do that without cutting the power cord since that voids the warranty.

I could have added a switched outlet facing the inside of the compartment and left the IOTA plugged into it, turning it on and off with the switch, but it just seemed simpler to utilize the outlet already mounted right there and simply plug the IOTA in when I want it running and unplug it when I don’t.

So I drilled a hole through the face of the gaucho sized to be a friction fit for the back-side of the IOTA’s plug, then cut a slot into that hole from the nearby vent opening (This vents the electrical compartment and based on previous experience I went with an oversize vent for the area when building The Van.)


Now all I had to do was use the slot to slip the IOTA’s power cord into the hole then mount the vent cover to trap it there, and cover up the unsightly slot.


Now when I want the IOTA running all I have to do is pull the cord out a little and plug it in, then reverse the procedure to turn it back off. All without having to raise the heavy gaucho cushion with one hand while fishing around inside a dark compartment filled with electrical stuff with the other like I had to do to turn the Tripp-Lite on and off.

It might look like this is all sticking out too far and likely to get snagged when I’m moving around in The Van, but what you don’t see here is the gaucho cushion, which I removed to make access to the electrical compartment easier. When reinstalled it will extend over the face of the gaucho by a good 4 inches and the outlet and power cord will be tucked neatly underneath it.

The moment of truth was to plug the IOTA in and close the 12V disconnect switch, that black rectangularish thing under the outlet. All my 12 volt stuff came back to life and the voltage was a steady 13.6 volts since the IOTA was operating in converter mode because there were no house batteries installed at the moment.

More about the battery issue later but for now it’s time to put the tools away and clean up the mess.







Monday, June 12, 2017

The Riparian Trail and The Mysterious Death of Frenchy





Having been chewed up and spit out as unworthy by the Dog Canyon Trail (officially the Dog Canyon National Recreation Trail but I'm pretty sure there's not much Recreation about that trail!) the last post closed with me standing in front of this sign for the Riparian Trail. I use 'me' in the singular here since, even though I drug a mess of you up Dog Canyon Trail with me, as soon as we got back off the mountain y'all disappeared!

And all because I innocently suggested a slight detour before calling it a day.

I mean sure, my knees were noodlely, my back ached, my hand was raw from leaning on the hiking stick for those countless downhill steps, and I wouldn't have been surprised if my feet were bleeding from jamming too-long toenails into the ends of my boots on that long descent, but it says right there on the sign that the Riparian Trail is just a little bitty half-mile loop so it wasn't that much of a detour.



 Anyway, I was all alone as I headed down the right-hand leg of the trail towards the bottom of Dog Canyon. This trail, at least this part of it, is much more civilized than the canyon trail



and it doesn't take long to arrive at a picnic table sitting on the bank just above open water.

Water coming down Dog Canyon is actually running underground most of the way, but here near the mouth of the canyon it trickles out of the rocks and makes a brief above-ground appearance. (All water that flows into Tularosa basin quickly disappears underground never to be seen again. (Well, OK, technically some of it does come back up out of pumped wells but you get the idea.)


This view up the canyon from near water-level gives a hint as to why the Dog Canyon Trail does not follow the canyon's bottom but rather hangs high up on the south side until up there near the line cabin, about three miles away, where it does come back down and cross the canyon bottom to the ruins of a cabin used when cattle were up the canyon for the season.

Even if I wasn't already as worn out as grandma's old bathrobe (eww! I didn't need to see that! Close your robe grandma!!!) the thought of trying to scramble up that jumbled mess of boulders would have turned me back.



As you might imagine, water has always been an important commodity down here in the Tularosa basin. and what you are looking at, there between the heavy roots below and the dried stalks above, is a piece of concrete flume laid by Oliver Lee as part of an irrigation ditch that runs the mile and a half down to his ranch-headquarters.


This plaque suggests an amicable relationship between Frenchy, whose claim is now occupied by the state park, and Oliver Lee, who's ranch was just to the southwest, but there are suggestions that that might not have been the case. In the late 1800's, early 1900's the Tularosa basin was more like the wild-west of our childhood movies and TV shows than most of the west ever was. A contentious place with rivalries, corruption, land-grabs, water grabs, murders, disappearances, and all the other stuff that made for legends and Lone Ranger TV show plots.

To get a more balanced and modestly unbiased account of that part of the history of the basin than you might get from a place called the Oliver Lee Memorial State Park, check out this PDF. 


From this point the trail heads westward, right down the middle of the wash in the canyon's bottom, but fortunately the canyon is starting to spread out here as it intersects with the basin so things aren't quite so jumbled up and the walking isn't too bad.





But if it's been raining up in the mountains you might be better off skipping this part of the trail and sticking to the high ground!

Clearly this tree, which is still living by the way, did a significant part of it's growing when the ground level was a good 5 feet higher than it is now. Water is a good thing a lot of the time, but when there's more of it than usual it changes from being a resource to being a mountain-mover as it tears it's way down through solid rock.



As I've mentioned before Oliver Lee State Park is actually sitting on top of Frenchy's claim while the Oliver Lee ranch is a good mile to the southwest. Frenchy built his cabin on a bench just above the wash at the mouth of the canyon. Nowadays the campground road passes within a hundred feet of the cabin site.



But this is harsh, and largely empty land, even today, which means Frenchy's place was pretty much left alone following his mysterious death due to a big ol' hole in his chest from a gunshot, either by murder or, for the wildly fanciful among us, possibly suicide, in 1894, allowing a 1978 archaeological dig



to map his cabin and recover a number of artifacts nearly 100 years later.


Another thing left behind by Frenchy that can still be seen today are his rock walls. Despite the amount of labor they must have required they are all over the campground, his former homestead,




including this one on the north side of the wash just across from his cabin (Which is out of the frame to the left)



and this one closing off the south flank of the canyon mouth.

That was pretty much the extent of the Riparian Trail and I finally drug my weary self back to The Van.



In addition to nearly wiping myself out on the canyon trail, by now I had pretty much wiped out the day and just had time to get back and chill for a few minutes while watching the sunset.



 And I even managed to dredge up the energy to take a few photos as my ignominious day ended.



Saturday, June 10, 2017

Puzzle Surprise




Normally when I finish a puzzle I step back to adjust my perspective, (When I’m working on it one piece at a time my focus gets pretty narrow.) let it sit for anywhere from a couple minutes to a couple hours, then break it back down and put it in the box


But this time as I pulled the box out I was reminded, just in time, that this particular puzzle was a ‘Glow in the Dark’.

Now I’ve never put one of these together before, usually dismissing them as gimmicks, but I stumbled across this one on sale and I couldn’t resist the winter train scene. (I mean come on! It’s got trains! And as a bonus winter scenes are good therapy during a Texas summer. How could I walk away from that?!)

Of course on the down-side it had the double whammy of being make in China with who knows what heavy-metals in the inks, not to mention whatever nasty compounds that make it ‘glow’, so I was extra careful about washing my hands before touching anything else, especially food, while putting it together.

Since I went to all that effort to stay safe I decided I should at least check out this glow-in-the-dark claim before busting it down into its 1000 component parts again.

When darkness finally fell and I turned the barn’s lights out I expected the train’s headlight, the lamp, and the station’s windows to glow briefly with some sickly yellow emanations that quickly fade.



I certainly wasn’t expecting this!

I was immediately transported back to childhood memories of moonlight on the snow. The Wife, who also grew up in snow country had the same reaction.


In an unusual move I left the puzzle in one piece for another 24 hours while I figured out a set up to take these photos, but now the puzzle is back in its box and waiting for someone else to come along and be surprised.