tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67505749757905545092024-03-05T23:10:14.415-08:00A Granny's Place Is In The CockpitPersonal stories, adventures, photos and commentary from a flying obsessed grandmother, pilot and aircraft owner.Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.comBlogger99125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-39244826477264130522012-11-13T06:02:00.003-08:002012-11-13T06:05:53.531-08:00Never Wait – It Could be too Late<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Today I received an email from an old friend. Well, actually it was from her mother, sister and daughter. They must have sent the invitation to her memorial to everyone in her email address book. At my age loosing friends is part of life and to be expected. There is more to this story.<br /><br />Christine and I met when my son and her daughter attended the same grade school in the early nineties. Christine and I worked together on several school events and became friends. The four of us started doing things together and our friendship grew. One of our favorites was driving to Eastern Washington to visit Grandpa Bud. Bud lived on a small ranch and had horses and a few head of cattle. We would spend the weekend riding horses, relaxing and visiting with our hosts. <br /><br />In the late nineties when my family moved to a southern part of the state, it seemed too far to travel for either of us so we gradually lost contact. You know how it is. Softly, like a clearing mist, the friendship simply dissolves into living a new life.<br /><br />Last Winter I found Christine again and we spoke several times on the phone and exchanged a few emails. Our lives had changed, but shared experiences retained a tenuous bond. I said I would plan a visit the next time I traveled to Washington. <br /><br />Summer. I’m out of desert heat and enjoying a particularly beautiful season in the Pacific Northwest. It is my intention to visit with my old friend. But it was an interesting, challenging and busy Summer, so finding a weekend, since Christine works, just didn’t happen. <br /><br />Here is where the point of my story finally emerges. <br />I could have made it happen.<br />Plans could have been changed.<br />Excuses are easy. <br />Taking time for friends should never be pushed aside.<br />You never know when an opportunity to see an old friend is the last one.<br /><br />Such regrets have entered my life before. I hereby resolve to NEVER let them in again.<br /><br />I urge you to take the time now. You never know when it will be too late. What seems difficult now, could become impossible at any moment.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOo28L0ig1SGH_hc6Icl2t9engaVsZ5mwyHiHDizYySOxlBgjGs-4lb5DODrX7ZNnlYK-AaXQbRCFF-V9cygXBuN1g3X0H4c5Q3mElAuN2w8Cz34-TfHFzy6Roe0mJA3RTbpwstBvSC0G7/s1600/Christine_Amanda_Byron_Tom+10-8-93.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOo28L0ig1SGH_hc6Icl2t9engaVsZ5mwyHiHDizYySOxlBgjGs-4lb5DODrX7ZNnlYK-AaXQbRCFF-V9cygXBuN1g3X0H4c5Q3mElAuN2w8Cz34-TfHFzy6Roe0mJA3RTbpwstBvSC0G7/s320/Christine_Amanda_Byron_Tom+10-8-93.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Christine and Amanda on Tom in 1993</span></span></i></div>
Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-70467291394032639482012-10-06T07:25:00.000-07:002012-10-06T07:25:11.859-07:00Grounded<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeTpiqthI8z5XPeh69EwanMXU2gPa0FxVXC9OOQ5juOC4GDJ9xzsPEKXDfdC-v8K4LJtitOWHVBM8777woDiADVne_wgpApxh5vH9xOobIbaxFtcjFM0VGdiMQdSH_rs8UfB5r-KFFp_rb/s1600/DSCF3346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Nope. The plane is fine. Spent an extra 2 weeks in Washington getting my prop overhauled and one blade replaced. While this work was underway, Path’s annual was done. This involved major repairs to the exhaust system, new ELT battery, and brake pads. The total check was over $5,000. Thus, I am Grounded. I’ve got a perfectly good airplane and no spare money for fuel. AOPA has a program underway to increase General Aviation flying and get more people to start flying. They ask current pilots what can be done. I’ve got one good answer. GET FUEL AFFORDABLE! <br /><br />Since new flying adventures will not be on the agenda until November, I’ll relate stories of past flights.<br /><br />San Carlos Apache P13<br /><br />During my quick trip back to AZ at the end of June, my neighbor, Keith was spending some time at his AZ home, so we decided to visit an airport I’d had on my list of “places to fly to”. The direct route would lead me over Phoenix Sky Harbor International so I pointed Path SE, still in Class B space, but to the south of South Mountains and thus well out of Heavy (commercial jets) traffic. <br /><br />The airport is located on the Apache reservation about 8 nm SE of the town of Globe, Bésh Baa Gowąh – “place of metal” in the Apache language. The town is just another small town from the air, but the Blue Ball copper mine is impressive. Mine and tailings ponds cover a lot of acreage.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeTpiqthI8z5XPeh69EwanMXU2gPa0FxVXC9OOQ5juOC4GDJ9xzsPEKXDfdC-v8K4LJtitOWHVBM8777woDiADVne_wgpApxh5vH9xOobIbaxFtcjFM0VGdiMQdSH_rs8UfB5r-KFFp_rb/s1600/DSCF3346.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeTpiqthI8z5XPeh69EwanMXU2gPa0FxVXC9OOQ5juOC4GDJ9xzsPEKXDfdC-v8K4LJtitOWHVBM8777woDiADVne_wgpApxh5vH9xOobIbaxFtcjFM0VGdiMQdSH_rs8UfB5r-KFFp_rb/s320/DSCF3346.jpg" width="320" /></a> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5wOdi2ZyAK4Qmv1mg3e9aHEVgzxmiUHNjy1oefkeR3Hczym3tZ4T0hwQKBKwnr_X47HbYxckDBhPJUbLy0NH-EuM7IAAPAgdpZYRHPW5dYYSYyxJ8qfPECoiKxUj0rsnJHh8zqSLAgfcA/s1600/DSCF3354.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5wOdi2ZyAK4Qmv1mg3e9aHEVgzxmiUHNjy1oefkeR3Hczym3tZ4T0hwQKBKwnr_X47HbYxckDBhPJUbLy0NH-EuM7IAAPAgdpZYRHPW5dYYSYyxJ8qfPECoiKxUj0rsnJHh8zqSLAgfcA/s320/DSCF3354.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Here are Keith and Thorn, who thoroughly enjoyed our explorations on the ground. </span></span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68JjcNG8FRKyCAQ9JZj2lO1rNYnJ9hGo_fxlSlHPEBxYQQVeW4fRbA4FNXREBTuWUkHI5LBnGG-HnQ3bmeVkYwxfBT8vesrGXGpYeIuDOevFJMgULE8h87foG1llZ6aoZsjNBn3nSxl_O/s1600/DSCF3348.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68JjcNG8FRKyCAQ9JZj2lO1rNYnJ9hGo_fxlSlHPEBxYQQVeW4fRbA4FNXREBTuWUkHI5LBnGG-HnQ3bmeVkYwxfBT8vesrGXGpYeIuDOevFJMgULE8h87foG1llZ6aoZsjNBn3nSxl_O/s320/DSCF3348.jpg" width="320" /></a> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Upon landing, I taxied over to a tie down area near what appeared to be a part-time FBO of sorts. The airport was very quiet and had an air of abandonment. Wanting to stretch our legs we walked west following the boundary fence and about mid-field came across a large parking area with vault toilets and a handy gate to the casino across the road. It was our opinion that a flight for a meal at the casino would be an outing to consider in future. The flight is under one hour, the temperature 10 or more degrees cooler than Buckeye. Some appealing hills across the runway called for hiking exploration.</span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-61800185476152206662012-08-02T14:08:00.000-07:002012-08-02T14:08:22.275-07:00Alaska Notes<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I went to<span> </span>North
Pole.<span> </span>No, unfortunately not the real
place, just a town a few miles east of Fairbanks called North Pole.<span> </span>In most ways its simply small clusters of
civilization among stretches of mostly wild.<span>
</span>But one thing I’ve noted is that Alaska recognizes the value of tourists
– so North Pole has Santa Land.<span> </span>An
averagely done giant Santa figure, a herd of sad reindeer behind a lot of fence
and an artistically decorated Santa’s House full of tourist shopper dreams.<span> </span>I bought a keychain for my son’s collection,
and for me, a box of decadent fudge.<span> </span>I
watched Santa greet small children and smile happily as giggling teenage girls
piled on his lap.<span> </span>I coveted, but
resisted tempting arrays of Christmas ornaments, some quite unique.<span> </span>The small downtown featured candy cane
street light poles and every business is decorated for the holiday all year
round.<span> </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKpJwCjQ0TpPl6OKG_SS0SeT8Mes-IDAWh-zctFLz8ftofSDc9LOXyq6sWr6aCZRbwq7Zt_DBOzLkcy_Tb5eYzbqZx9u0nZQCdUPVK86bAmi6PXl8xgaLpHu415Xhb5lCxEFsVHXF4sx0V/s1600/DSCF3495.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKpJwCjQ0TpPl6OKG_SS0SeT8Mes-IDAWh-zctFLz8ftofSDc9LOXyq6sWr6aCZRbwq7Zt_DBOzLkcy_Tb5eYzbqZx9u0nZQCdUPVK86bAmi6PXl8xgaLpHu415Xhb5lCxEFsVHXF4sx0V/s320/DSCF3495.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I caught a glimpse of <b>Denali
</b><span> </span>-<span>
</span>far to the south and barely visible through<span> </span>clouds, but I saw it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Fairbanks came to be shortly after gold was discovered here
in 1901.<span> </span>The immediate area is called
“The Golden Heart”.<span> </span>The town is much
smaller than I expected – a walk from one side of the downtown to the other is
less than a mile.<span> </span>There is a lot of
commercial area spread out along Airport Road, the main east/west<span> </span>route.<span>
</span>Like any other place, there is good and bad.<span> </span>It’s shocking to see the number of drunks
staggering about or<span> </span>laying on the ground
sleeping it off right in the middle of the day!<span> </span>Lots of bars and breweries both upscale and
low.<span> </span>We visited The Silver Gulch
brewery in a small community called Fox.<span>
</span>They have a good sized brewery on the premises and my daughter assures
me the beers are wonderful – she had one called Cranberry Bog.<span> </span>The food is truly excellent – I ordered the
Pear Gorgonzola Pizza and remember it, longing for more. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEc4oA8IxB3IBF-C1s6UNTmay-eZ-K2KLI3sWxHw8tjKrqxDA4JhrISndXeJz4XxEGyy2TpnQmViOZq81fqm1CJjG8Ys2soyfT9PM2EeDalYO2uKrEJ1BzYxwCovEYtvNLDkh_O-ZKGS-b/s1600/DSCF3490.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEc4oA8IxB3IBF-C1s6UNTmay-eZ-K2KLI3sWxHw8tjKrqxDA4JhrISndXeJz4XxEGyy2TpnQmViOZq81fqm1CJjG8Ys2soyfT9PM2EeDalYO2uKrEJ1BzYxwCovEYtvNLDkh_O-ZKGS-b/s320/DSCF3490.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Fairbanks is rich with walking paths, most with chain link
fencing protecting them from traffic.<span>
</span>Thorn and I walk everyday -<span> </span>our
favorite is along the Chena River.<span> </span>These
paths are also for bicycles and are well utilized.<span> </span>Along rural roads are paved or gravel
paths<span> </span>set aside for the use of ATV’s now
and snow machines in winter.<span> </span>My
granddaughter actually commutes to work on an ATV which is a common and
accepted method of travel here.<span>
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<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span> </span><span> </span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-59562089849456485672012-07-26T12:21:00.001-07:002012-07-26T12:21:56.008-07:00Relaxation and Exploration<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A road of 58 miles out of Fairbanks ends at Chena Hot Springs. <br />You want to go further south, it’s get into a Super Cub on tundra tires and take off on this strip. </span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWNJv8-kBIWObQrWDSh7ul5YOjCWZCgnXarW9dqHn3j74b1yjCsu_8U81U8V4TmZeWAeaddomHx6kLPRYUGWYGXIl53PTK1n4gRyXBaZGssYbUhkRpviVlDrYRjxEb185C3P3j0rJd9id/s1600/DSCF3525.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWNJv8-kBIWObQrWDSh7ul5YOjCWZCgnXarW9dqHn3j74b1yjCsu_8U81U8V4TmZeWAeaddomHx6kLPRYUGWYGXIl53PTK1n4gRyXBaZGssYbUhkRpviVlDrYRjxEb185C3P3j0rJd9id/s320/DSCF3525.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Four departed while we were there – my daughter could not believe planes would take off with clouds sitting on hilltops. I assured her these pilots know the area and are confident of a positive outcome. This native pilot reluctantly posed for the tourist, after warning me to be aware of the prop. I don't think he believed my "I'm a pilot" statement.</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQfjgoafoDr8KdYOJduIZMIindjycdKQNKPrAfNDiQPI8KoyjnpunCVSw1QjN7m1IE-UlmfcMHu3H2qf3GGwuyBWERjyxPrym8kv01hpTstm9s3_PzEETi0HjertPGmTUiLFiGMP3AMDV/s1600/DSCF3528.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQfjgoafoDr8KdYOJduIZMIindjycdKQNKPrAfNDiQPI8KoyjnpunCVSw1QjN7m1IE-UlmfcMHu3H2qf3GGwuyBWERjyxPrym8kv01hpTstm9s3_PzEETi0HjertPGmTUiLFiGMP3AMDV/s320/DSCF3528.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">For $10 you can soak in the sandy bottom pool as long as you want. We stayed for hours, took a lunch break, and soaked some more. </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The sprinkler provides a refreshing shower of cooler water.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqtDzP-Ckn6DUIszjYgYVsdUyW5ie2TmTE4D3pMiN-4WvbEICU1DOOkvIf8UuTEkrJ_9e6FIkDTsQUeA2zzMNO_AI_ezwe02tSjpd0J29AQyYiwIEfXMzjtL1Wp1EhuUcrBIFz8Z43GmA/s1600/DSCF3540.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqtDzP-Ckn6DUIszjYgYVsdUyW5ie2TmTE4D3pMiN-4WvbEICU1DOOkvIf8UuTEkrJ_9e6FIkDTsQUeA2zzMNO_AI_ezwe02tSjpd0J29AQyYiwIEfXMzjtL1Wp1EhuUcrBIFz8Z43GmA/s320/DSCF3540.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <br /> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This input pipe provided a free deep tissue massage. Felt really wonderful on feet and back.<br />
</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWev4XxwCwhibeyiD8J90D8s0iqx1HdQGWHBUFMe0LajDxQuaeGdoZ0xJ_W886QjsZLArBCvmWu8q4v-ZNUq7fZjGcHvnQTQcjgkgHSjPL37cwKD_tN2HV5qpDtpcmaOqTtaI23XFERqWB/s1600/DSCF3543.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWev4XxwCwhibeyiD8J90D8s0iqx1HdQGWHBUFMe0LajDxQuaeGdoZ0xJ_W886QjsZLArBCvmWu8q4v-ZNUq7fZjGcHvnQTQcjgkgHSjPL37cwKD_tN2HV5qpDtpcmaOqTtaI23XFERqWB/s320/DSCF3543.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This delightful iron dragon has propane in his belly and on special occasions spits fire as a proper dragon should.</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMI25IH9ejr50LKvsqZXFCH4BP8MEYw3esJRzJAKheP7NiBX5QkYptSN-JRZQ0RT-O_x3El3c9V-yRP-1DNUu9Uzxevmy9p4ERSELXExKiaFz5S5OHperpNGKNj-x70ueW5mZ8l8EzAiZW/s1600/DSCF3533.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMI25IH9ejr50LKvsqZXFCH4BP8MEYw3esJRzJAKheP7NiBX5QkYptSN-JRZQ0RT-O_x3El3c9V-yRP-1DNUu9Uzxevmy9p4ERSELXExKiaFz5S5OHperpNGKNj-x70ueW5mZ8l8EzAiZW/s320/DSCF3533.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">With 24 hour light, flowers grow and bloom in profusion. This bunch grows in an old gold mining scoop.</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPeLx7ebYvCu3thftSWGoghi2gOZgMYbvk5X9VswWi1vNwIBfZUeuTtEqPLTXKLzIIwQlSi-tPYOa5RTWgCyACy3O74OUbD23r1jgrcTy2wzQWGf_X0S9qW9QnPXkZrSgIzDEtjAxtQ6F/s1600/DSCF3529.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPeLx7ebYvCu3thftSWGoghi2gOZgMYbvk5X9VswWi1vNwIBfZUeuTtEqPLTXKLzIIwQlSi-tPYOa5RTWgCyACy3O74OUbD23r1jgrcTy2wzQWGf_X0S9qW9QnPXkZrSgIzDEtjAxtQ6F/s320/DSCF3529.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">What arguably is the wildest, most natural state in the union is populated by a lot of people who seem to have no appreciation or respect for their surroundings. The majority of homes I’ve seen are ill-kept with yards piled with possessions (junk). Out along the Chena River, which should be a place for the city folks to enjoy nature, are scenes like this.</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBiuIsOk4JatRMkMbPNEJnt9JnebZUhZuBx6ZxUuEthAEDbrinhnXhGrc7gVaiNfrFC6CNunMpgUlP6x95uIUaAMEjLPEfkMQXRoUE-PTvou2GePQzixPBivmj70_PMNh3OyRQdDdp3lY/s1600/DSCF3594.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBiuIsOk4JatRMkMbPNEJnt9JnebZUhZuBx6ZxUuEthAEDbrinhnXhGrc7gVaiNfrFC6CNunMpgUlP6x95uIUaAMEjLPEfkMQXRoUE-PTvou2GePQzixPBivmj70_PMNh3OyRQdDdp3lY/s320/DSCF3594.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Driving with my daughter in her jeep we had to navigate around glass bottles and other potentially dangerous bits. The sad thing is that residents of Fairbanks do not have to pay anything to go to the dump! Yet they drive out into nature to throw garbage into their world. Sad.</span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-55426526542759751982012-07-20T15:43:00.001-07:002012-07-20T16:26:12.874-07:00Frozen North<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Yup. I’m in Fairbanks, Alaska. In the past couple weeks I drove back to AZ with Ramses and Liberty, left them there, and flew back to WA in Path.<br />Leaving Path behind at Shady Acres, I flew commercial to Alaska. My thinking was that a pilot without an Instrument Rating has no business flying into this state of rapidly changing weather conditions. The difficult part was departing SeaTac airport. The two commercial flights I’ve taken since Nine-Eleven were from small Mesa Airport in AZ where the check in and security process is simple. Not so at SeaTac (Seattle/Tacoma).<br /><br /> I arrived with two suitcases, computer bag, purse, one excited Australian Cattle Dog puppy and the crate in which he would travel. I’ve only got two hands, so forked over $4 to rent one of those luggage carts. The semi-useless things are not designed to carry much so I spent a lot of time stopping to reload strewn possessions, all while Thorn helped as only he can. I stood in one long line to check the two bags, another to do dog travel paperwork. Nearly 2 hours remained before flight time so I delayed putting Thorn in the crate and turning him over to baggage. Forty minutes prior to scheduled departure I abandoned my dog and rounded the corner to…a line that would make Disneyland’s worst look short. Who knew? That 2 hours early thing the airlines mention, is for standing in line, shoes in hand, to be inspected. I quickly realized my chances of making it to the gate in time were slim…and I was correct. Arriving panting and frazzled I found the boarding door closed. Wait! My dog is on that plane! Panic! A lovely young woman at the counter assured me that Thorn had not been loaded (no one mentioned he had to be checked in a full hour prior to departure). She then got busy and rescheduled me for the next flight, departing in one hour. Expecting to pony up a huge fee for changing flights, I was pleasantly surprised – no charge. Please allow a short commercial – Alaska Airlines has efficient, thoughtful personnel and customer friendly policies – they earn your business, and have mine! The baggage handler who loaded Thorn actually came into the cabin to hand me the confirmation ticket and assure me my dog was on board.<br /><br />Since arriving in this state of adventure, imagination and romance, the weather has been wet and grey but certainly not frozen. I’m in a state that has held my fascination since reading the first Jack London novel over 50 years ago. The land of the Midnight Sun is as named – no darkness. The sun dips down to what in the lower 48 is 5:00 pm and then starts back up again. Sleeping is strange – with light streaming in the windows, you just don’t get tired. <br /><br />The evergreen trees here are short, narrow and remind me of something from Dr Suez. <br /><br />Roads are frequently as bumpy as flying through turbulence, due to frost heaving.<br />Yup. I’m in Fairbanks, Alaska. In the past couple weeks I drove back to AZ with Ramses and Liberty, left them there, and flew back to WA in Path.<br />Leaving Path behind at Shady Acres, I flew commercial to Alaska. My thinking was that a pilot without an Instrument Rating has no business flying into this state of rapidly changing weather conditions. The difficult part was departing SeaTac airport. The two commercial flights I’ve taken since Nine-Eleven were from small Mesa Airport in AZ where the check in and security process is simple. Not so at SeaTac. <br /><br /> I arrived with two suitcases, computer bag, purse, one excited Australian Cattle Dog puppy and the crate in which he would travel. I’ve only got two hands, so forked over $4 to rent one of those luggage carts. The semi-useless things are not designed to carry much so I spent a lot of time stopping to reload strewn possessions, all while Thorn helped as only he can. I stood in one long line to check the two bags, another to do dog travel paperwork. Nearly 2 hours remained before flight time so I delayed putting Thorn in the crate and turning him over to baggage. Forty minutes prior to scheduled departure I abandoned my dog and rounded the corner to…a line that would make Disneyland’s worst look short. Who knew? That 2 hours early thing the airlines mention, is for standing in line, shoes in hand, to be inspected. I quickly realized my chances of making it to the gate in time were slim…and I was correct. Arriving panting and frazzled I found the boarding door closed. Wait! My dog is on that plane! Panic! A lovely young woman at the counter assured me that Thorn had not been loaded (no one mentioned he had to be checked in a full hour prior to departure). She then got busy and rescheduled me for the next flight, departing in one hour. Expecting to pony up a huge fee for changing flights, I was pleasantly surprised – no charge. Please allow a short commercial – Alaska Airlines has efficient, thoughtful personnel and customer friendly policies – they earn your business, and have mine! The baggage handler who loaded Thorn actually into the cabin to hand me the confirmation ticket and assure me my dog was on board.<br /><br />Since arriving in this state of adventure, imagination and romance, the weather has been wet and grey but certainly not frozen. I’m in a state that has held my fascination since reading the first Jack London novel over 50 years ago. The land of the Midnight Sun is as named – no darkness. The sun dips down to what in the lower 48 is 5:00 pm and then starts back up again. Sleeping is strange – with light streaming in the windows, you just don’t get tired. <br /><br />The evergreen trees here are short, narrow and remind me of something from Dr Suez. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs2DkFO7sfmNz86W-DrOBehv1cBUOOICo2H-f-JleSf1oVILVegyvxAC17VaGwal933Nw-tYOQ1QJSxgOXjqi7vVcq79bgsKg1DVXxKWHcl4goP-2cRgX7BRputPaIKKV5ceunRwm7khUi/s1600/Zeus+Trees+B.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs2DkFO7sfmNz86W-DrOBehv1cBUOOICo2H-f-JleSf1oVILVegyvxAC17VaGwal933Nw-tYOQ1QJSxgOXjqi7vVcq79bgsKg1DVXxKWHcl4goP-2cRgX7BRputPaIKKV5ceunRwm7khUi/s320/Zeus+Trees+B.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Roads are frequently as bumpy as flying through turbulence, due to frost heaving.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOkhbyt74gMVYie9lV62H9zV3BUVICu5eRpqyFLEwWmcML-3XbTN8htCI4BxZTCsLT2YIXJthWSzzBZd7Z8jblXu-FScEnyTQX9CCxalLUvLFFJIxiwxYb3ay3pFrcxC_eCcEEmoamfPv/s1600/Frost+Heaved+Road.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOkhbyt74gMVYie9lV62H9zV3BUVICu5eRpqyFLEwWmcML-3XbTN8htCI4BxZTCsLT2YIXJthWSzzBZd7Z8jblXu-FScEnyTQX9CCxalLUvLFFJIxiwxYb3ay3pFrcxC_eCcEEmoamfPv/s320/Frost+Heaved+Road.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirejctCaQOgWOPcHsJkRjxann7nZwpw0GA9HNt2QARsdUOF8I7Eah7s8WOuN9zBPPC18T2nXZ1NuwbtpQJrBMlFY1AvpsnSGUJpu55ias3sHMlWKAAa1J3lMUU6QiUbt-0NGFsvqkR8a8n/s1600/Pipeline.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirejctCaQOgWOPcHsJkRjxann7nZwpw0GA9HNt2QARsdUOF8I7Eah7s8WOuN9zBPPC18T2nXZ1NuwbtpQJrBMlFY1AvpsnSGUJpu55ias3sHMlWKAAa1J3lMUU6QiUbt-0NGFsvqkR8a8n/s1600/Pipeline.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirejctCaQOgWOPcHsJkRjxann7nZwpw0GA9HNt2QARsdUOF8I7Eah7s8WOuN9zBPPC18T2nXZ1NuwbtpQJrBMlFY1AvpsnSGUJpu55ias3sHMlWKAAa1J3lMUU6QiUbt-0NGFsvqkR8a8n/s320/Pipeline.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">The pipeline is a presence here, appearing, climbing and vanishing, only to reappear later as it snakes its way over still another mountain.</span></div>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-84576088233505848412012-05-25T20:51:00.001-07:002012-05-25T20:53:40.337-07:00Red and Blue<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">McMinnville Oregon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Been here a week visiting with friends and shopping for a new-to-me truck. Big Red is a fine machine, but the fifth wheel I’ve been asking him to pull is near the top of his abilities and he is 17 years old. He is officially retired.<br /><br />Introducing Ramses.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaKfFE30lj2WTsbxa4MHsvpp0oQ7PJWoMIf-WnTz4uZpl3C6SvlNON_ONZ4OIRYKq5gMxx1xgjm0jN8IaNcP2iVzsNSV6NaCUVSoZUFgnInXTYWL6NArnhRy_6MO1cBpiVa7clwZBRLcKB/s1600/DSCF3261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaKfFE30lj2WTsbxa4MHsvpp0oQ7PJWoMIf-WnTz4uZpl3C6SvlNON_ONZ4OIRYKq5gMxx1xgjm0jN8IaNcP2iVzsNSV6NaCUVSoZUFgnInXTYWL6NArnhRy_6MO1cBpiVa7clwZBRLcKB/s320/DSCF3261.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2hQVcpZfWtO2ffTR1VtQ19Bc3Bt2FqBd8Pa370WuIrvKpP66uWL6-tnOaBGxEiqXhkh_TP1k55Ebn0PCDR3WoJ70tFOcYqAHfHRY8zZu6tCf7Iy3QV-G5RaAMY2o_WW39kKkeIsQcVKPS/s1600/DSCF3257.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2hQVcpZfWtO2ffTR1VtQ19Bc3Bt2FqBd8Pa370WuIrvKpP66uWL6-tnOaBGxEiqXhkh_TP1k55Ebn0PCDR3WoJ70tFOcYqAHfHRY8zZu6tCf7Iy3QV-G5RaAMY2o_WW39kKkeIsQcVKPS/s320/DSCF3257.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">He is a 2004 Dodge Ram 2500 ¾ ton with a Cummins Diesel engine. I’m told by guys who know these things that Ramses will pull Liberty “as if it wasn’t there.” I don’t know that yet, as I’m still trying to get the hitch installed. I won’t go into the long sad story in detail. The RV shop mis-quoted (under of course), didn’t include all the required parts, etc. <br /><br />I filled Ramses tanks today for the first time. OMG! Pump shock. The trip computer indicated 708 miles to empty and that does NOT take into account the 30 gallon auxiliary tank. Full tanks on Big Red were good for 240 miles. I think I’m going to like diesel just fine.<br /><br />On the bright side. Today it didn’t rain and it was a comfortable mid-70’s day. Oregon is a beautiful state, especially when the sun shines. If you haven't been, try to visit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br />For my desert friends I’ve included this pix of a county road crew cutting down trees that grow so fast they cause problems with power and phone lines.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyo3BzPfo19p9ynmVAvr7uaObPT18GR0lMpJV3QLtNVYRDwwreX6rfWy7VFUoFfz68N-wxjMyfBFmIvbBSIYYvmYUB_m5vsV_Y4dMLj3yt9HzvVoI0Ndee2lYOiApLfykPWD2MFHpAQhw/s1600/DSCF3235.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyo3BzPfo19p9ynmVAvr7uaObPT18GR0lMpJV3QLtNVYRDwwreX6rfWy7VFUoFfz68N-wxjMyfBFmIvbBSIYYvmYUB_m5vsV_Y4dMLj3yt9HzvVoI0Ndee2lYOiApLfykPWD2MFHpAQhw/s320/DSCF3235.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">In this area of 4 feet by 10 feet I counted 15 different plants – growing wild and free. All that rain creates unrelenting green.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgmPXUnECQ8ZBubEDZ2lTsKpEDPp6MnpQZ8J9noFUb69xCGtp_JcqnMyVssVOnfxFpEOHGfg2HUQKAcPl5V7-ss0qwPokkEBOvACHR2oFQZ-dJv-ORgPYdXJZ62QalGh4l2Sb-JL1uZwX9/s1600/DSCF3243.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgmPXUnECQ8ZBubEDZ2lTsKpEDPp6MnpQZ8J9noFUb69xCGtp_JcqnMyVssVOnfxFpEOHGfg2HUQKAcPl5V7-ss0qwPokkEBOvACHR2oFQZ-dJv-ORgPYdXJZ62QalGh4l2Sb-JL1uZwX9/s320/DSCF3243.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-46630913943917427262012-05-22T13:17:00.000-07:002012-05-22T13:17:58.532-07:00Yosemite National Park...at Last !Back, way way back in 1960, I wrote a report for school on Yosemite National Park. Been reading about and watching documentaries on this park ever since. Yeah, I know. It’s about time I managed to visit.<br /><br />Met a few challenges enroute, but last Wednesday Liberty, Big Red, Thorn and myself pulled up to the entrance. Paid my $10 and became the proud owner of a National Parks Senior Pass. I’ve been eligible for several months, but was determined to make the purchase ONLY at Yosemite. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOy-_Q4IHbGkNvi0IfkBYhQZhWM1wMFiYFBmTSt9v8EjCItRFrd5umRpkyvCvQbl6JeDk3Lf3VnXvdbGYblvcOJtAPe8rOOv04Aw1J4KTLCGBv0tMXEGVFjSkIx4RON7OdstN9357G_qe/s1600/DSCF3130.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOy-_Q4IHbGkNvi0IfkBYhQZhWM1wMFiYFBmTSt9v8EjCItRFrd5umRpkyvCvQbl6JeDk3Lf3VnXvdbGYblvcOJtAPe8rOOv04Aw1J4KTLCGBv0tMXEGVFjSkIx4RON7OdstN9357G_qe/s320/DSCF3130.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">El Portal Entrance. Looked very Small!<br />
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May is earlier enough in the travel season, that I should have no problem getting a camping spot. Or so I thought. Brain damage apparently comes with retirement. It was all the ranger could do to keep from laughing out loud when I innocently said “I’d like a camping spot for a fifth wheel for two days.” <br />“You mean for tonight?” she said politely.<br />“Yes. Please.” Here is where her professionalism kicked in as she patiently pointed out the list of names a page and a half long of people like myself who were hoping to get lucky. No room.<br /><br />Okay. So at least I’m here and I’ve already spotted Bridal Veil Falls<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSowXNzAacOWI4Q41LuexKx5WnwmbZO0ktIs1DKTgg2Q6Nvr0xAQyD99P-fDz6ftLYA6-IzSd3sSP8Ie5e8VeQlmyihupIY6mG3F1HhzEBfDaL77nfCmM5goiLRb2x7imZk-_JLFppr09r/s1600/DSCF3141.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSowXNzAacOWI4Q41LuexKx5WnwmbZO0ktIs1DKTgg2Q6Nvr0xAQyD99P-fDz6ftLYA6-IzSd3sSP8Ie5e8VeQlmyihupIY6mG3F1HhzEBfDaL77nfCmM5goiLRb2x7imZk-_JLFppr09r/s320/DSCF3141.jpg" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Yosemite Falls<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihprrcb-M_0vHCD8vz8TCTaxj5TWpNnReUBLp_fCq1fN2EjlhLqeVE50FACOB3qh0If2kVNjy9FBhrO8l3INm0gjPuRnGRKwvYib4dsQk89lCKa1V_j9v_VwflA7utoAO3ogTPEk-XbIdx/s1600/DSCF3171.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihprrcb-M_0vHCD8vz8TCTaxj5TWpNnReUBLp_fCq1fN2EjlhLqeVE50FACOB3qh0If2kVNjy9FBhrO8l3INm0gjPuRnGRKwvYib4dsQk89lCKa1V_j9v_VwflA7utoAO3ogTPEk-XbIdx/s320/DSCF3171.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />This red wing blackbird posed 4 feet away as if to say “Take my picture!”<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii2cBuRCeUxAhcKvaRfRNw1ZIq1GbLRXt08IVrZOdJJz7eTtaaMw9mpfdfTebPs_b0r3oNZ04AKgGUUYoObz98vG3tWCyPh5E3qkOrkjkuI9UPH9dYDxql5_uLW7KAlNsvqCi43n00eNry/s1600/DSCF3172.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii2cBuRCeUxAhcKvaRfRNw1ZIq1GbLRXt08IVrZOdJJz7eTtaaMw9mpfdfTebPs_b0r3oNZ04AKgGUUYoObz98vG3tWCyPh5E3qkOrkjkuI9UPH9dYDxql5_uLW7KAlNsvqCi43n00eNry/s320/DSCF3172.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />Now all I have to do is find a place to park for the day and use the free park shuttle bus to get visit the rest of the sites, and the trailhead to make a lovely day hike closer to Half Dome. The keepers of Yosemite have worked hard to maintain its natural beauty. Minimum sized roads, tiny little parking lots tucked into trees. It only took an hour to find a spot big enough that I could park. Whew. Off to the bus stop – I’ll go straight for half dome. Backpack, hiking stick and dog in hand I see the bus approach. <br />“Sorry lady. Dogs are not allowed on buses.” <br /><br />Still. We can walk anywhere we want, along handy paths… packed with tourists and bicycles (honk honk passing on your right. Beep beep passing on your left). Thorn tangles in the walking stick and eagerly tries to greet everyone he sees with a lunge and a leap. Tiring and a bit dangerous, the plan is scrapped. Back to Liberty. It’s okay, I think. I did see some of Yosemite and another visit can be planned.<br /><br />On the way out of the park I spot a place with parking, right in front of El Capitan. A big meadow perfect to let an energetic puppy burn off some energy, lots of photogenic views for me.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV5xy3xzxxSWUEmosXUtoZg3aBFBH7uCzPlRq2uRtVYs1xDOo4ljFtnvYFaE-JRvvW6alo0vJjfHqXbi22tummMb1rL2jpEZTn6oK_h5NBbT4LFpTuHoqYRh_d4YcjP7pm9iJO8PdbbO_d/s1600/DSCF3198.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV5xy3xzxxSWUEmosXUtoZg3aBFBH7uCzPlRq2uRtVYs1xDOo4ljFtnvYFaE-JRvvW6alo0vJjfHqXbi22tummMb1rL2jpEZTn6oK_h5NBbT4LFpTuHoqYRh_d4YcjP7pm9iJO8PdbbO_d/s320/DSCF3198.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />So I have crossed Yosemite off my Bucket List.<br /><br />Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-38344001958457560512012-05-17T19:31:00.005-07:002012-05-17T19:31:58.715-07:00Companion and Rocks<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I’m not alone on this trip. </span> </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-dLaMfC3pV_GiIOlObKu0DWX5rNaXM1zvYbcrjmHamrcrQQSJ-0ro4woZ7LXDZOgMACXMM2v2_9OM1e-s9RVVkhlkAy8lQpf0C-jH2t4rOfljTfQi2N1Mo7G6FNK61ms7ByReugtfULNY/s1600/Car+Ride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBbXRDIbP0kbf5DErFrylWLZKPaZASRDdzlmfSnVCzM_exdZR6UsWr90dzsfW2ZWLApiS1A0XTInLFRWX5M5WhHlKYpdmcF9eAmRxtltgYJYnZfNrMJ68damy5EUrAao4S3Ld_4Ue7yMd/s1600/DSCF3103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-dLaMfC3pV_GiIOlObKu0DWX5rNaXM1zvYbcrjmHamrcrQQSJ-0ro4woZ7LXDZOgMACXMM2v2_9OM1e-s9RVVkhlkAy8lQpf0C-jH2t4rOfljTfQi2N1Mo7G6FNK61ms7ByReugtfULNY/s1600/Car+Ride.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-dLaMfC3pV_GiIOlObKu0DWX5rNaXM1zvYbcrjmHamrcrQQSJ-0ro4woZ7LXDZOgMACXMM2v2_9OM1e-s9RVVkhlkAy8lQpf0C-jH2t4rOfljTfQi2N1Mo7G6FNK61ms7ByReugtfULNY/s320/Car+Ride.jpg" width="247" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Introducing Thorn, my Australian Cattle Dog.* He is just over 3 months old, a member of my family since March 4th. As you can see he is adorable.</span></span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Of course, he is the best dog on the planet, when he’s not trying to chew up, jump upon, or pee on something he shouldn’t. But actually, the breed is known for intelligence and he’s showing signs which keeps me hopeful.</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoIbv8JNDnqET8syQIs6xtWffvgD7M6wJCWbR5rLtuyOWXw5dM39cettA5bvHQ8eeTpa5nWL47u0sWddBu7nvSU1ACwK7RjqEpr8JQblnLLl_e-YZg5bVXeSUDd-jy5fLcBeQ6yuVcPmFh/s1600/DSCF2983.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoIbv8JNDnqET8syQIs6xtWffvgD7M6wJCWbR5rLtuyOWXw5dM39cettA5bvHQ8eeTpa5nWL47u0sWddBu7nvSU1ACwK7RjqEpr8JQblnLLl_e-YZg5bVXeSUDd-jy5fLcBeQ6yuVcPmFh/s320/DSCF2983.jpg" width="320" /></a><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">At Slab City he was entertained for over 20 minutes with an empty box. Nothing keeps him interested longer, as he is busy and at full speed until he collapses to recoup. </span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Right now his company is a lot of work, but I foresee that he will become an ideal traveling partner, offering companionship, and protection. He already listens when I talk, especially if I’m not requiring him to change some action he is intent upon!</span><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">*Some of you may have heard this breed called Queensland Healer, Blue Healer or Red Healer. All are the same dog.</span></span><br />
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Vasquez Rocks Park</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBbXRDIbP0kbf5DErFrylWLZKPaZASRDdzlmfSnVCzM_exdZR6UsWr90dzsfW2ZWLApiS1A0XTInLFRWX5M5WhHlKYpdmcF9eAmRxtltgYJYnZfNrMJ68damy5EUrAao4S3Ld_4Ue7yMd/s1600/DSCF3103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBbXRDIbP0kbf5DErFrylWLZKPaZASRDdzlmfSnVCzM_exdZR6UsWr90dzsfW2ZWLApiS1A0XTInLFRWX5M5WhHlKYpdmcF9eAmRxtltgYJYnZfNrMJ68damy5EUrAao4S3Ld_4Ue7yMd/s320/DSCF3103.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Located in Aqua Dulce, CA. This area is well-known, and continues to be, a popular area for filming by both Hollywood and television.<br /><br />One reason for having this spot on my must visit list is several episodes of the original Star Trek were filmed here. Some of you who are Trekkies might remember “Fridays Child” or “Arena”. <br /><br />The other reason is that I simply love rocks. From the ones I pick up and take home as souvenirs, to the huge one’s to marvel at how nature shaped them, all are wonderful to behold.<br /><br />I’ll let the pictures tell the rest of the story.</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsiimBh1ymgJviWJQHROi8ChNOLuka968FKOoodi6tP_9-VJLwSz8zvthxCdHy2H-D9FSSr8FHB72jxM5JYxZhV22cDFdmepVxA2PSmWFC8AdrpKUimJiPNIhTKqWOzLWiB1oH5fURmGMR/s1600/DSCF3094.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsiimBh1ymgJviWJQHROi8ChNOLuka968FKOoodi6tP_9-VJLwSz8zvthxCdHy2H-D9FSSr8FHB72jxM5JYxZhV22cDFdmepVxA2PSmWFC8AdrpKUimJiPNIhTKqWOzLWiB1oH5fURmGMR/s320/DSCF3094.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMhRxDbxE_gilkuHf8y2-nSjoVqsGdPX0etyX_8ww4g8abow5zQ6U1aEoKRuPp1ofqXej8gTBctLGV-VhXsei9X5FuyrjRVXCJiCoMQb-OtdPuRtupwWSjNkkhBCVe_iuzmpqpGCiiezsX/s1600/DSCF3099.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMhRxDbxE_gilkuHf8y2-nSjoVqsGdPX0etyX_8ww4g8abow5zQ6U1aEoKRuPp1ofqXej8gTBctLGV-VhXsei9X5FuyrjRVXCJiCoMQb-OtdPuRtupwWSjNkkhBCVe_iuzmpqpGCiiezsX/s320/DSCF3099.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-15616519094251651652012-05-15T11:25:00.001-07:002012-05-15T11:25:41.305-07:00Traveling and...<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />Travel for 2012 begins. And stops. And starts.<br /><br />But let me start from the beginning. I left AZ on Thursday morning. Temp in the 80’s already. Destination The Slabs. Driving east on I-10, enjoying the scenery, Savage Garden CD playing.<br /><br />A sudden banging, rattling. Slowing, then stopping and pulling over as far as possible I get out thinking that something has fallen off the truck or camper. I walk carefully around. Nope. Everything looks as it should. Hmm, must have run over a bit of road junk I hadn’t noticed. Start up the truck and immediately realize I have no steering. Very NOT good. The side of Liberty (my fifth wheel) is maybe 3 feet from the traffic lane and rocks alarmingly with each passing semi. <br /><br />A call to AAA. Please allow a commercial here. Best $55 I ever spent. They will come and tow you, or provide whatever service you need. For traveling, if you don’t have it – you should. <br /><br />I had a long hot hour to observe that the side of I-10 is liberally littered with bits of tires. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The Toe Truck (no pun intended, that is the name of the company) arrives, a special one that can pull both Big Red and Liberty. The trip into Blythe, CA is hot as the toe truck has no air conditioner and open windows don’t help. But I’ve been rescued and am heading west. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22YwgxkC0JusSvApDkm6IKF_b3J6rg5MCLEbGhKq8KrOnuTglRwl9aHAJ4gC7YPy89WRDrsBequHjFPhMAidVWAmPvvo1_EQsLj_YnMVabEjhOP-FK3EtvsCNBQ6HunoQlrVs-UFSNfFL/s1600/DSCF3060.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22YwgxkC0JusSvApDkm6IKF_b3J6rg5MCLEbGhKq8KrOnuTglRwl9aHAJ4gC7YPy89WRDrsBequHjFPhMAidVWAmPvvo1_EQsLj_YnMVabEjhOP-FK3EtvsCNBQ6HunoQlrVs-UFSNfFL/s320/DSCF3060.jpg" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Bulldog Emergency Auto Repair takes a look and points out the broken pulley on the power steering pump which caused other pulleys to fail and of course the serpentine belt. $900 and change. Parts won’t arrive until 8:00 am the next morning. <br /><br />Day Two.<br /><br />It’s hot. A hot wind does not help. The camper is an oven. A very long day. Finally at 2:00, Big Red is repaired. It takes me 45 minutes to get him hooked to Liberty (a long boring story about angles). I'm Anxious to be on the move, but the shop owner recommends waiting for a couple hours until the heat begins to wane, thus easier on equipment. I realize he’s right. Two long hours sitting in the shade at the park. AC feels good as we head,at last, SW on Hiway 78. It’s a beautiful drive, that takes longer than it should as I need to keep stopping for photos. So much easier to do when flying – no need to stay on a road in your own lane!</span><br /><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deserts DO have dunes sometimes!<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We arrive at Slab City at 8:00 pm and align Liberty so breeze will flow through open windows and doors – it helps some. Sleep is possible but not comfortable. <br /><br />Day Three.<br /><br />I’m here to get set up with solar so I can be free of hookups. Mike’s Sun Works comes highly recommended, but I’m still amazed at how he and two crew, smoothly install all the needed bits. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I now have a 140 watt solar panel, converter and inverter. I can look at the display on the wall and watch my batteries charge! I can flip a switch and plug in whatever I wish.<br /><br />Day Four.<br />Dawn. On the road and heading north on Hiway 111 then northwest on 210. I miss the turn to I-5 and realize it when I see an exit for Aqua Dulce. Oh well, make the best of it. I take the exit and enjoy a lovely afternoon exploring Vasquez Rocks Park. But that will be another blog entry, later.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />Ended the day with my first Boondock – in a parking lot of a closed Burger King. Located conveniently next to a huge apricot orchard – the perfect place for a lovely walk before settling in. It’s seventy-something - just right. I was not alone, truckers and others have found this spot as well. Just proves that Hiway 99 needs rest stops. I spotted one between Santa Clarita and Fresno and it was closed.<br /><br />Day Five.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />My how time is flying. Today I’m going to Yosemite National Park. I will wake tomorrow with mountain views. My plan was to drive north to Merced and then turn off for the park. But going through Fresno, and talking on the phone, I spot a sign “Highway 41 North – Yosemite”. Spur of the moment I turn to this new route and am enjoying scenery much like Texas Hill Country, then the Sierra’s begin. Just past Oakhurst, I see smoke billowing behind me and thinking the truck has overheated, immediately turn into a pullout. (There are many along 41 as it’s a 2-lane road with lots of grade and curves). I’m about to open the hood, when a gentleman who pulled in behind me runs up and says “Your truck is ON FIRE!” He announces he’s a retired fireman and asks if I have an extinguisher. I grab it out of Liberty and he does the honors. Flames from under the engine are out. Two firetrucks arrive, the guys crawl under the truck and announce it’s transmission fluid that was burning and still dripping. </span><br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQ55EgcyShv2yQvQS8ZgRFMS4QJBA2AOBjRo1Cs-SmYu4jMx_ISIVpdinaOL0w9M1SymPphhknaU9x6RkJv5xGgukyfhUFbyDE-46Z7rU-zHTFMzXaX7g7mDvG5clAYE1nTUmNA2eNcq3/s1600/DSCF3122.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQ55EgcyShv2yQvQS8ZgRFMS4QJBA2AOBjRo1Cs-SmYu4jMx_ISIVpdinaOL0w9M1SymPphhknaU9x6RkJv5xGgukyfhUFbyDE-46Z7rU-zHTFMzXaX7g7mDvG5clAYE1nTUmNA2eNcq3/s320/DSCF3122.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three firemen and George, form a consensus <br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Another call to AAA. But it seems I’ve used up my “allowed number of tows in a year.” Geesh. The tow costs $80 which is not as bad as expected, and I’m delivered to Sam’s Transmission and Automotive, in Oakhurst, a shop that comes high recommended by all the firemen and the CHIPS officer that arrives. All is all not as horrible as it sounds. Rescuers are kind, and friendly and this overnight outside a garage comes with comfortable 70’s temps and mountain views. It’s to be another $700 to fix the blown seal on the transmission and to re-do the serpentine belt which was put on incorrectly by Bulldog Repair in Blythe –don’t go there folks!<br /><br />Day Six.<br />Early. Beautiful morning. Slept like a baby in coolness after watching a movie on Netflix. Don’t know what the day will bring, or how long I’ll be here awaiting completion of repairs, but I’m open to what will come. Life is after all, an Adventure.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-73200948338480964102012-04-03T12:23:00.007-07:002012-04-03T12:54:05.332-07:00Wintering in Summer<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">My first winter in Arizona was everything I expected it to be. Day after day of sunshine and temperatures in the 60’s and 70’s was, for this Washington girl, a satisfying series of opportunities to play outside.<br /><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Hiking in December<br /><br />Valley of the Sun offers some great hikes, both on established, well-marked trail systems and off into the wild desert hills. A group of neighbors has become The Hiking Buddies - two new neighbors visiting from Michigan and one fulltimer (that is what we call people who do not go home in the summer).<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDWTlIAvjQ8Cl8x-CwJWekanVom2d8ICCHPt3M-B5AScLwGg9OF_77KvnCBge0iWnz7rNnJqjEtJEmNIoIr8g0jD2rAIcQYHODuawYKrKx1i6PmvPZ6aorDKImOvXgEaWGARnMXciL7KWb/s1600/DSCF2063.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDWTlIAvjQ8Cl8x-CwJWekanVom2d8ICCHPt3M-B5AScLwGg9OF_77KvnCBge0iWnz7rNnJqjEtJEmNIoIr8g0jD2rAIcQYHODuawYKrKx1i6PmvPZ6aorDKImOvXgEaWGARnMXciL7KWb/s320/DSCF2063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727264053154324098" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />On the far side of <span style="font-weight: bold;">South Mountain</span> is this hike. It was a tough go in places, and finding a paved road at the summit seemed darned unfair. No one should get this view without earning it!<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBecbjFacJWZnij4U-W8L253a3I-9ivePtZqRrBRUC6Du-x-BF_6tLZ8-w_PNBYd1SGhRgBH1S3g0NU8ng7HLsgnuitDRc_KQitNF3A6NMXWM93qcWihQRttiXnmxo7Nk2HeeOqlzfrKIh/s1600/DSCF2077.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBecbjFacJWZnij4U-W8L253a3I-9ivePtZqRrBRUC6Du-x-BF_6tLZ8-w_PNBYd1SGhRgBH1S3g0NU8ng7HLsgnuitDRc_KQitNF3A6NMXWM93qcWihQRttiXnmxo7Nk2HeeOqlzfrKIh/s320/DSCF2077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727257903650712354" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpP7CPA2I9zKBAtGFlAQ32TgW9b0GHY54oJVjfKtdsztGsfqnrhB6XPYH3wIE_vqIiB7P0ox4e65X8TLz1bGNtEHmq779pznDZiNfr3d1zNWAtD-P3aK_SoJtBjXqN455d1cuUxq-C0xf4/s1600/DSCF2070.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpP7CPA2I9zKBAtGFlAQ32TgW9b0GHY54oJVjfKtdsztGsfqnrhB6XPYH3wIE_vqIiB7P0ox4e65X8TLz1bGNtEHmq779pznDZiNfr3d1zNWAtD-P3aK_SoJtBjXqN455d1cuUxq-C0xf4/s320/DSCF2070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727257889895067810" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">To get to <span>South Mountain</span> you drive through Ahwatukee, an upscale neighborhood. Proof is this modest home with what I figured to be at least $100,000 in landscaping.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMx-PKg0i6Kc0cnQQixt5ZV7qYFVccky9jPmBLxaihLTb6XC1zW-mPpZrEozgRs444fqc-z4ZmNV2kUorhfsrRfCre3P9TdWCJ00uNWD_6jJxTDXnh9cyaClx5AO_Kn8ldvUtA3vuycxIg/s1600/DSCF2691.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMx-PKg0i6Kc0cnQQixt5ZV7qYFVccky9jPmBLxaihLTb6XC1zW-mPpZrEozgRs444fqc-z4ZmNV2kUorhfsrRfCre3P9TdWCJ00uNWD_6jJxTDXnh9cyaClx5AO_Kn8ldvUtA3vuycxIg/s320/DSCF2691.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727262694368556498" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Here is a look at the trail from the air.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNX6_dN1G408_toJgWqRq3VtTQel8p4q3viyQbG9hyMSAbRyr1Sy3Btkw-lsuw5DG6ZZB8uJp_-vB9ELqQ_iLN7Im6J1yxK3g4WSEJwzRpr8JLPPYziq9-N58fwZHRZgf5o4LphWkbKmt/s1600/DSCF2748.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNX6_dN1G408_toJgWqRq3VtTQel8p4q3viyQbG9hyMSAbRyr1Sy3Btkw-lsuw5DG6ZZB8uJp_-vB9ELqQ_iLN7Im6J1yxK3g4WSEJwzRpr8JLPPYziq9-N58fwZHRZgf5o4LphWkbKmt/s320/DSCF2748.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727262699221174434" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The <span style="font-weight: bold;">Estrella Sierras</span> is a striking feature laying NE to SW along the southwestern side of the valley in Goodyear. This is a view from my hangar – very inspiring.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNYzOv18W49LWsvvZVlkjwf1eO91DbaB1_YRyGMcBZfiNwrEuJvYEEK2KnMJGJ9MMRpVB7UH-u7RUixgQ-BgYXTUyHiArtHfb-49nXk5e11KHrRSINNPj96mA-suldDUa5Hn-VfXZ-s8l/s1600/DSCF2043.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNYzOv18W49LWsvvZVlkjwf1eO91DbaB1_YRyGMcBZfiNwrEuJvYEEK2KnMJGJ9MMRpVB7UH-u7RUixgQ-BgYXTUyHiArtHfb-49nXk5e11KHrRSINNPj96mA-suldDUa5Hn-VfXZ-s8l/s320/DSCF2043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727261418440786722" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The park here offers several hikes. The hiking buddies decided to do the Rainbow trail. Marked as moderate and 4 miles. Moderate! In who’s world? Certainly not ours. Narrow, steep, lots of rocks, and drop offs that made for nervous going. At one point while pausing to catch breath at the top of a particularly tough climb, I asked “which way does the trail go?”.<br />“There.” Pointed Sharon.<br />There was one of the scariest things I’ve ever seen – nearly straight down.<br />“Oh no. No way. I’m NOT going down that.” But I did. It was the only way, and retracing our steps back would have been bad. I used this method most of the way down.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRng9HxPHk24evL-0ciPvc02jVZkZ2K0M7g8B_w0JOq7uxm93xJLRMxHZ3FW0iFZsEUmeUS3sFcCvecZLyZCzbi_D40MpgjLfhwWS9KnIkGrPXfICADVGRpXVA_lqdN1w2VOcdAo22Mrrm/s1600/DSCF2624.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRng9HxPHk24evL-0ciPvc02jVZkZ2K0M7g8B_w0JOq7uxm93xJLRMxHZ3FW0iFZsEUmeUS3sFcCvecZLyZCzbi_D40MpgjLfhwWS9KnIkGrPXfICADVGRpXVA_lqdN1w2VOcdAo22Mrrm/s320/DSCF2624.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727258170238844386" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">At least I could see that the trail leveled out at the bottom, so hell only lasted about 3 hours. Well, it did seem that long. After the fact, all three of us were justifiably pleased with our accomplishment but vowed “never again.”<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKPKiRU9vZd94sWzG3gwc0ypoj57y0a6kvxxxD92k-MCFz22KiSaOUethm8F8Ap44V_2zmJajk7UX9SSTWOZJ4BBg8-KCq7x97BUjifYNaS0CsYX5lMGc_QVxK4oLy35-OaneMh8dDrB2/s1600/DSCF2627.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKPKiRU9vZd94sWzG3gwc0ypoj57y0a6kvxxxD92k-MCFz22KiSaOUethm8F8Ap44V_2zmJajk7UX9SSTWOZJ4BBg8-KCq7x97BUjifYNaS0CsYX5lMGc_QVxK4oLy35-OaneMh8dDrB2/s320/DSCF2627.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727258198489602786" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Ajo is a place I have visited several times. No established trails, just dirt roads in varying conditions that often come to sudden ends. You can park, play and even camp as long as you like. No amenities at all – its wild desert and I love its serenity and plant life.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73edjBHwg8y74_8D1eW9dn9hRaCzEwMEQzXQDCvbpRjOe-FMRpYnvZLam7R9ksSTZUvsUxnN-eambVSZFfOcRD46kt7eSYeytZUoo6ahV57HBg2P63sJLeqIl0qxeIkE3pMjKr_wOAo_L/s1600/DSC05985.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73edjBHwg8y74_8D1eW9dn9hRaCzEwMEQzXQDCvbpRjOe-FMRpYnvZLam7R9ksSTZUvsUxnN-eambVSZFfOcRD46kt7eSYeytZUoo6ahV57HBg2P63sJLeqIl0qxeIkE3pMjKr_wOAo_L/s320/DSC05985.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727261405241030626" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The White Tanks </span>lay on the northwest side of the valley and run in the same direction as the Estrella’s. Lots of peaks, folds, and ridges offer plenty of opportunity to enjoy wild. With the Hiking Buddies I tried one of the few established trails. Easy and a reward of petro glyphs at the end.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlwXLLjzINz-d-LXKAo8rjPzZEszolAEh0nREt2kKKBhjCIrdv6jLCjcVkZvVekmSLwhI2f06IIldKvJjGBDiKvoGmc6HrEj-BZFK1Uf-g7tfCppo5e9KCv3ifqRFLiTdkvVQp3R9jLFs/s1600/DSCF2652.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlwXLLjzINz-d-LXKAo8rjPzZEszolAEh0nREt2kKKBhjCIrdv6jLCjcVkZvVekmSLwhI2f06IIldKvJjGBDiKvoGmc6HrEj-BZFK1Uf-g7tfCppo5e9KCv3ifqRFLiTdkvVQp3R9jLFs/s320/DSCF2652.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727261423177099522" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkNMzmFxyv7b3saj7wvJZBwG4yHQ_tHdQGUruTiuPz6f5RmMnKQX-NmPUJNkprGfp1IM5L6rlSWWa5aCGyx-CmunQ-qLYTy9iLOnW4XW78Viqfg502VvP3Ia-KJAoMRQCi6QsSPs6-wuy/s1600/DSCF2654.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkNMzmFxyv7b3saj7wvJZBwG4yHQ_tHdQGUruTiuPz6f5RmMnKQX-NmPUJNkprGfp1IM5L6rlSWWa5aCGyx-CmunQ-qLYTy9iLOnW4XW78Viqfg502VvP3Ia-KJAoMRQCi6QsSPs6-wuy/s320/DSCF2654.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727261432332566002" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">A word about rocks.<br />Rocks are popular in landscaping here and are sold by the pound. I collect my own, and now have neighbors joining in the pursuit of what we term “Wild Rocks”. I’ve gathered large piles from hikes, drives and yes, even flights. If I can get it in the plane, Path can fly it home!<br />The reason I bring up rocks as a part of this hiking story, is that hikes pass trillions of wild rocks, and as we start the vow is “no more rocks.” But then one of us sees a really good one, and there we go. Our hikes become major workouts as we carry as much as we can hold.<br /><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgmvDfuYJqrlhcWBKx5DQPppJphMXdzIA9wzGJYPSZkqF1MsEdNrU4lKZSTMrAhZAvhnZNU9hbaClVylRS5VivMrWbPOaQ-rqCJWMgTtooBzdsdajqazJCpbHu_pkJMTFQbR0Q4vVaGcAS/s1600/DSC05265.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgmvDfuYJqrlhcWBKx5DQPppJphMXdzIA9wzGJYPSZkqF1MsEdNrU4lKZSTMrAhZAvhnZNU9hbaClVylRS5VivMrWbPOaQ-rqCJWMgTtooBzdsdajqazJCpbHu_pkJMTFQbR0Q4vVaGcAS/s320/DSC05265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727257871012687666" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Looking forward already to next winter and new hikes.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /><br /></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-64655443718899129052012-03-01T06:58:00.010-08:002012-03-01T07:27:47.862-08:00Walking on a History Book<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Virginia. The beginning of The United States of America.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Colonial Williamsburg</span><br /><br />This part is all modern construction, done to feel old. The shops are very upscale, full of lovely expensive things to admire.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhThuN01iWAaroqNBiblHQv4ao3nuaY4Vdt1-cEEqyWz2PAh8XnCA53ROKvKMmxPWlkHKhC2TqV8cEkwYgn00MGxY6NBvG4vgSBYYVvq8wE7kqLc9t_ZjGY3kd72xgeXZuF2xmsSwrdb0gC/s1600/DSCF0549.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhThuN01iWAaroqNBiblHQv4ao3nuaY4Vdt1-cEEqyWz2PAh8XnCA53ROKvKMmxPWlkHKhC2TqV8cEkwYgn00MGxY6NBvG4vgSBYYVvq8wE7kqLc9t_ZjGY3kd72xgeXZuF2xmsSwrdb0gC/s320/DSCF0549.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714945571101109346" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The other part of Williamsburg is the original town with impeccably maintained or restored buildings that for a fee you can tour. I opted out as the buildings are difficult to enter with twins in a huge stroller who might at any moment need feeding or changing. Viewing the outsides was enough. These are typical home of the time, complete with residents.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzWm7Q-x-IUvMl5HgN2DnOT2Pf8dE-4zdRNuvsvOmfESc0jtBC6GXNGg24cLBHY-JwXFg8s6TpQvHNAhzE6aXsoQ5t4FdlhcsyJrh5H2z_2mliotBxKXE5jO9pGRNiqNajc2ANQQdMCwN/s1600/DSCF0555.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzWm7Q-x-IUvMl5HgN2DnOT2Pf8dE-4zdRNuvsvOmfESc0jtBC6GXNGg24cLBHY-JwXFg8s6TpQvHNAhzE6aXsoQ5t4FdlhcsyJrh5H2z_2mliotBxKXE5jO9pGRNiqNajc2ANQQdMCwN/s320/DSCF0555.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714945561555235218" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Gossip over the Fence.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimcLZQXWDUcA3gnDOiL5LV_Qyb9SZH2VerfrF57vJRTBeuYTM-0195nvWvbN6yOBzy23oUlB9g_tsAe43Bw-Vb12enb1QlXyIY_eFcMnldtQ7AnfOuLzLGG6sNBhJpQ-zSTlW6nXhBSqsD/s1600/DSCF0561.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimcLZQXWDUcA3gnDOiL5LV_Qyb9SZH2VerfrF57vJRTBeuYTM-0195nvWvbN6yOBzy23oUlB9g_tsAe43Bw-Vb12enb1QlXyIY_eFcMnldtQ7AnfOuLzLGG6sNBhJpQ-zSTlW6nXhBSqsD/s320/DSCF0561.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714944786231191490" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Here is the Governor’s Palace. (Not my term. The people of Williamsburg actually named it thus.)<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELoTtiQdcXbGiRvmCUbcs22MPTJmvM32YCGdx7rMTu4igQRIrqn9mLdCF0Z3pdwq7SPvwhSuDODYCK7XCJaxMwjJrHkABnvFutqApq0f7uRnOLsQZfYr438TkuW3VGBhRsuQn93EWY0ql/s1600/DSCF0552.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELoTtiQdcXbGiRvmCUbcs22MPTJmvM32YCGdx7rMTu4igQRIrqn9mLdCF0Z3pdwq7SPvwhSuDODYCK7XCJaxMwjJrHkABnvFutqApq0f7uRnOLsQZfYr438TkuW3VGBhRsuQn93EWY0ql/s320/DSCF0552.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714943923351837778" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">In this shop I met Benjamin Franklin. This gentleman played the part perfectly in both looks and speech. </span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_01w74kyQJYV2ZdMR5J0aBB74MK_ZqUcucJX8YfiSXFpXV75FuYwFjJ0fA4O__BZmeXYjyayqZfbPcN0Atr4VKAMliQvgVY1TcTohIxL4IFyKv51QtJeGkqsxlQ1aZ5-MlMlIi5W3IKsS/s1600/DSCF0557.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_01w74kyQJYV2ZdMR5J0aBB74MK_ZqUcucJX8YfiSXFpXV75FuYwFjJ0fA4O__BZmeXYjyayqZfbPcN0Atr4VKAMliQvgVY1TcTohIxL4IFyKv51QtJeGkqsxlQ1aZ5-MlMlIi5W3IKsS/s320/DSCF0557.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714943921236067218" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">He spoke thus. “They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.” I cannot disagree with this and find it interesting that it remains true.<br /><br />Seeing these gardens, I wondered if they really looked this good in colonial times, but enjoyed their beauty regardless.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85XCMneX6jkFCdxAXUXXdZYOFTpXhGV8y-scS4TfCzCcdDRBVxxZwRHGE-GjKUYXxy8SgIycXHVQHBTXGENRVxDUXuukLvsjR_6-dr3XAkQk7WdbAvgQfh_acZyi9yQ21p1Ga5EoNKE64/s1600/DSCF0558.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85XCMneX6jkFCdxAXUXXdZYOFTpXhGV8y-scS4TfCzCcdDRBVxxZwRHGE-GjKUYXxy8SgIycXHVQHBTXGENRVxDUXuukLvsjR_6-dr3XAkQk7WdbAvgQfh_acZyi9yQ21p1Ga5EoNKE64/s320/DSCF0558.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714944794862858306" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Pouring rain caused us to take refuge in this church.<br /><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPREx-YOyqrI-qULa8YWV-eIksMgUAKuSQTiE4gPgpnN1CZ4mbEyutziFoRUSM9AmR36QVB9jg35B4ndqVEXly8kIqPo1ujqLacFdT_Zi8gD49H6yRRp8VGz1DQfCC9kZVyb_DjrHWv-9i/s1600/DSCF0559.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPREx-YOyqrI-qULa8YWV-eIksMgUAKuSQTiE4gPgpnN1CZ4mbEyutziFoRUSM9AmR36QVB9jg35B4ndqVEXly8kIqPo1ujqLacFdT_Zi8gD49H6yRRp8VGz1DQfCC9kZVyb_DjrHWv-9i/s320/DSCF0559.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714946911832703810" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jamestown</span><br /><br />This is a place that I had looked forward to visiting since reading of it as a child. Imagine trying to survive along the coast with wind, rain, swamp and cold. Working to clear land, build dwellings, find food. The Indians were not the smiling folks bearing food to the first Thanksgiving that we always see depicted. A lot of settlers met their end via arrows and hatchets as the Indians were not pleased to have these strange people invade their home.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Sliws83tMecW66YFfaEVDB4hoNf5Uf-8Z40r9k_2rcALOjgLZN6UpdHy0H3xZ0ZccP878SHlE382tRpQ70HC5noAm71hPQCcMtXX00bhzelv7F1gtY2kp48fSt1EH5_UQlgrtq-8_JLB/s1600/DSCF0607.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Sliws83tMecW66YFfaEVDB4hoNf5Uf-8Z40r9k_2rcALOjgLZN6UpdHy0H3xZ0ZccP878SHlE382tRpQ70HC5noAm71hPQCcMtXX00bhzelv7F1gtY2kp48fSt1EH5_UQlgrtq-8_JLB/s320/DSCF0607.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714947476247061090" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">A tour guide provided us with shocking and humorous insights into the life of a settler.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLFrdIQIl0A4S_BGfUmzF-Ds3l8IAkv9mT4NtJB1mmrdBBA2mWF3jB9flwD062yrOeDGIUmDy9SAgQfiD5bPLB9aozNS11GFpC4oSW6oGSRAmXf9Kj68H-kVc8SiKGpc8Pe_t_vcebXFk/s1600/DSCF0603.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLFrdIQIl0A4S_BGfUmzF-Ds3l8IAkv9mT4NtJB1mmrdBBA2mWF3jB9flwD062yrOeDGIUmDy9SAgQfiD5bPLB9aozNS11GFpC4oSW6oGSRAmXf9Kj68H-kVc8SiKGpc8Pe_t_vcebXFk/s320/DSCF0603.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714946912528614066" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">He told of how John Smith was actually put in irons on the voyage over, as he had angered so many. He also described how Pocahontas would actually have been dressed in a simple skirt of bark and furs and nothing else.<br /><br />These are digs recently opened and interesting things are being found. A new museum opened and offers insights into colony life, with one of the finest displays I've seen.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNfblS281mDM9seUv30wWfT2Vhboesw24lApVZC_NZMG_DII5oJlILO6iSDsp0jiDBhGeaixllmNMmMHWxSZFPM2Y6mfCbJ2Rb4eyKdXFk3iiZ204k1UNnUYCoFyi0OQZclSVFagODC0ck/s1600/DSCF0611.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNfblS281mDM9seUv30wWfT2Vhboesw24lApVZC_NZMG_DII5oJlILO6iSDsp0jiDBhGeaixllmNMmMHWxSZFPM2Y6mfCbJ2Rb4eyKdXFk3iiZ204k1UNnUYCoFyi0OQZclSVFagODC0ck/s320/DSCF0611.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714947483133441410" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDOOSJiea4MMgjo3uXfm-qmhMsl6IIo1dg-L7MGHcfJd1GtJZgWCt9gL0hg-qAw2oWwi9OVDiQVwgPC7qxQVz8wViR4-_lvRXMoQSBrQQFbv6YfJ4uRTZ9MUIrvgZtsflJLKkF4byDNqG/s1600/DSCF0638.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDOOSJiea4MMgjo3uXfm-qmhMsl6IIo1dg-L7MGHcfJd1GtJZgWCt9gL0hg-qAw2oWwi9OVDiQVwgPC7qxQVz8wViR4-_lvRXMoQSBrQQFbv6YfJ4uRTZ9MUIrvgZtsflJLKkF4byDNqG/s320/DSCF0638.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714948167615169746" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">This burial site is also a recent find, and the actual skeleton of one young man is on display in the museum. Forensic scientists determined he died of a musket ball to the leg. I didn’t take a picture as it seemed inappropriate for a reason I couldn’t quite name, since I firmly believe that our bodies are simply vessels we leave behind.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMNtdMPL-OAiu0i60YYZxYZXXxjrv9f4R_iOTD1Bh9W8-1hkR5j_kmnPwWfP4HhUspKf5tpxDzVDyUesIdATmWkdNgpUmrLf3kYbncTrByYrxsmufNuRqZ-24JYCJhG2ai_oFBUzWf7n7/s1600/DSCF0629.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMNtdMPL-OAiu0i60YYZxYZXXxjrv9f4R_iOTD1Bh9W8-1hkR5j_kmnPwWfP4HhUspKf5tpxDzVDyUesIdATmWkdNgpUmrLf3kYbncTrByYrxsmufNuRqZ-24JYCJhG2ai_oFBUzWf7n7/s320/DSCF0629.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714948174545482402" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNfblS281mDM9seUv30wWfT2Vhboesw24lApVZC_NZMG_DII5oJlILO6iSDsp0jiDBhGeaixllmNMmMHWxSZFPM2Y6mfCbJ2Rb4eyKdXFk3iiZ204k1UNnUYCoFyi0OQZclSVFagODC0ck/s1600/DSCF0611.jpg"><br /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">These are original discovered and dug out walls and/or foundations. I was surprised at the small size of these homes - most of which were about the size of modern day living rooms! These people understood the need to live simply.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrooIeoiZRuWoIDz9kdh9I606XLRwN_6fffz19ErjcGAgh-J_XuIBIXvgoRboKcp2nnYorWnbBe6ywD4BLb40kFIhitOdWetdMTwJx6NkAmXJkuLvNnE2lyDaF7ddrqgboVhBU0FOLcVkY/s1600/092611153302.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrooIeoiZRuWoIDz9kdh9I606XLRwN_6fffz19ErjcGAgh-J_XuIBIXvgoRboKcp2nnYorWnbBe6ywD4BLb40kFIhitOdWetdMTwJx6NkAmXJkuLvNnE2lyDaF7ddrqgboVhBU0FOLcVkY/s320/092611153302.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714949104266432834" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">As I departed Williamsburg airport, heading for Kentucky I took a last look at history.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJAyvpNxMSswdr8guAXek2pH1jAP4M5n4sap5gOU12ccZnTogPSIC2oaAYt7gUxrGwO6ykVhpUXuhGXTa1ozrCHjU1Mgdin3cST8bJnSy_wd7-vHr3xNmq2gpT5mrENoFZpcPHRmdUlFF/s1600/DSCF0722.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJAyvpNxMSswdr8guAXek2pH1jAP4M5n4sap5gOU12ccZnTogPSIC2oaAYt7gUxrGwO6ykVhpUXuhGXTa1ozrCHjU1Mgdin3cST8bJnSy_wd7-vHr3xNmq2gpT5mrENoFZpcPHRmdUlFF/s320/DSCF0722.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714949101755961298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-4040878883158156472012-02-21T19:35:00.000-08:002012-02-21T20:13:23.863-08:00Monumental<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />With my fellow-pilot friend Judy visiting from wet and gloomy Washington, it was imperative that I show her Arizona at its sunny February best.<br /><br />We lifted off from Goodyear (GYR) at 8:00 am into sunshine and blue, blue skies. Perfect weather for flying. Payson (PAN) is located 45 minutes NE at the base of the Mogollon Rim, so we are climbing out of desert environment into Pine forests and – surprise – Snow!<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQLG_UmuNWBJchDjF73YqGl7HqLQKVyt5UBFnHcnBDP1LlJWd-82NZCI9u2ENkct7T7OlBhhcvvVdJwPXhHCv6-DQv54rKKAMD2apxM56zO4WW2-QeG1zlG_qg-UyxL8Ue7ptaGJCvnS9/s1600/DSC05540.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQLG_UmuNWBJchDjF73YqGl7HqLQKVyt5UBFnHcnBDP1LlJWd-82NZCI9u2ENkct7T7OlBhhcvvVdJwPXhHCv6-DQv54rKKAMD2apxM56zO4WW2-QeG1zlG_qg-UyxL8Ue7ptaGJCvnS9/s320/DSC05540.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711801341288851714" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">We enjoyed a delicious breakfast at the Crosswinds Restaurant which included orange cranberry as a bread selection. Advertised as, “Home of the Million Dollar View”, both view and food were NOT overstated.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6LqfLARVZeap594pIiMXvjRtWN5_JmHpZdtysWOMQq6pUwlSqdCKKrHPPwXc2pvlx7HVQVx_55u1kFaVlFuNKaXM7ZKc5E4d-ALdHPiImrP0dTJA3OwmfUn3484TnSYZTd57AKaEVVDrt/s1600/DSC05546.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6LqfLARVZeap594pIiMXvjRtWN5_JmHpZdtysWOMQq6pUwlSqdCKKrHPPwXc2pvlx7HVQVx_55u1kFaVlFuNKaXM7ZKc5E4d-ALdHPiImrP0dTJA3OwmfUn3484TnSYZTd57AKaEVVDrt/s320/DSC05546.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711800663787119346" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">After a quick fuel stop at Show Low (SOW) for $4.95 per gallon AV Gas (yes, this is a very cheap price, these days). Tanks full to the brim, we turned direct north to Kayenta (047) in the Navaho Nation.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZAOkPMg6kfWPnsh4TTUx2kWofz8_m6srdT1hQa_Xpqww7M6AfYi39zejHx6XHg8rEV3SbGC8E_-W2dCvVCicR7QURHKZ1sMp-kz_ICIaFMdCQd6bpEfNxWzNuFM6oZHOBe-hJDMlIJ5D/s1600/Kayenta+final.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibZAOkPMg6kfWPnsh4TTUx2kWofz8_m6srdT1hQa_Xpqww7M6AfYi39zejHx6XHg8rEV3SbGC8E_-W2dCvVCicR7QURHKZ1sMp-kz_ICIaFMdCQd6bpEfNxWzNuFM6oZHOBe-hJDMlIJ5D/s320/Kayenta+final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711803207041611890" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">We talked to a pilot of a medical service King Air waiting for his passenger. I asked for a look inside.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCN-nvOytshGkxMVy225sUxJsmxPeQxL1JkXw_pyQHo49yAZDUG3xtmn8-ddZONx8yYWCJZWoSDOYxkRdzhxV6FxkhIQcs3CAhOzQOeWh1UedVWXurQKAjXx0gx2v6vrrDP4hkQAcuEBR/s1600/DSC05644.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCN-nvOytshGkxMVy225sUxJsmxPeQxL1JkXw_pyQHo49yAZDUG3xtmn8-ddZONx8yYWCJZWoSDOYxkRdzhxV6FxkhIQcs3CAhOzQOeWh1UedVWXurQKAjXx0gx2v6vrrDP4hkQAcuEBR/s320/DSC05644.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711803462678843586" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now it was time to reach our main goal for the day – Monument Valley.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_1CO6ywBc1PeI9-LW-piFgeaaqA9rP3knuy5M4hkfGCtPf6Ngxb3nxzJqrTSJVmFNdEpbmilJHza888vAp1B2HcXwT4Pk0W3ikN5ojRrtnnTuOuAauNsDMK_Mqi1be6YIOtNwTewUR1T/s1600/Mon+Overview.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_1CO6ywBc1PeI9-LW-piFgeaaqA9rP3knuy5M4hkfGCtPf6Ngxb3nxzJqrTSJVmFNdEpbmilJHza888vAp1B2HcXwT4Pk0W3ikN5ojRrtnnTuOuAauNsDMK_Mqi1be6YIOtNwTewUR1T/s320/Mon+Overview.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711804048060253506" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />From here all I can do is put up the photos and hope to give you just a hint of the feelings of elation we experienced flying among these icons of nature and Hollywood.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObs4Yyi0p6JXaEj-aPhYv71cGwyGO1GzibUNaettVQ_269-KVdsborPU_B3bDoYVxrHmlw5xs8Y0ZLQDGFQcogQhd4Q2y2gREns1Xhe9F5KFFCqm71RWn1jyeTLQmQDK7FjJI3NYhMrzv/s1600/DSC05717.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObs4Yyi0p6JXaEj-aPhYv71cGwyGO1GzibUNaettVQ_269-KVdsborPU_B3bDoYVxrHmlw5xs8Y0ZLQDGFQcogQhd4Q2y2gREns1Xhe9F5KFFCqm71RWn1jyeTLQmQDK7FjJI3NYhMrzv/s320/DSC05717.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711806110145833346" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBO8N_vHsP4-QvHhMb0iIGW97ra-iIesIZ4cDm-ESiYBbg8ncSF_ZP3uNcWjyVdo9hoby7FmCx8z8h7jYW4LAEVW5mZiOFVG36BJjn0N1hd6WdNWmfm6kqH_hRwsTb3qegTOjGn7Qkvp3U/s1600/DSC05777.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBO8N_vHsP4-QvHhMb0iIGW97ra-iIesIZ4cDm-ESiYBbg8ncSF_ZP3uNcWjyVdo9hoby7FmCx8z8h7jYW4LAEVW5mZiOFVG36BJjn0N1hd6WdNWmfm6kqH_hRwsTb3qegTOjGn7Qkvp3U/s320/DSC05777.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711806116012794434" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLwGXDy7702c077kbWk0VRhg5i5Pmy-8H1r8u2wkzOiIroildM3_PPiL88dH-O_oNGTO1GHN_8OXHr6zdPBKSQXtejcxgM-AZAJicJhONLxnqNqMUUCOrAKnCLnXSTrpNh-OtGtyh6pmK/s1600/DSC05784.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLwGXDy7702c077kbWk0VRhg5i5Pmy-8H1r8u2wkzOiIroildM3_PPiL88dH-O_oNGTO1GHN_8OXHr6zdPBKSQXtejcxgM-AZAJicJhONLxnqNqMUUCOrAKnCLnXSTrpNh-OtGtyh6pmK/s320/DSC05784.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711806137544976962" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Approaching</span><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_vd9_yrTWPXuSQeZJYCSeoXJo8U06qhb2TPPNG-MF4P-5m1sKyzlB4KLnK8GFPbCRMzZPxEpiOzNjmzWEXma7wKVdU9AKZ0UfSljsgeUM44uR_BmK0cAh7BuTpkq1BiQX3vo8UVVomqD/s1600/Mon+Close.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_vd9_yrTWPXuSQeZJYCSeoXJo8U06qhb2TPPNG-MF4P-5m1sKyzlB4KLnK8GFPbCRMzZPxEpiOzNjmzWEXma7wKVdU9AKZ0UfSljsgeUM44uR_BmK0cAh7BuTpkq1BiQX3vo8UVVomqD/s320/Mon+Close.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711804834164170146" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Getting closer</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1FWgb7e_O3AQMqLjSfOFS-Jb4SCcqmEbGp5FDRgP8Xr1d0NTdshm_5apjm_JQnjQGQcnZtT8IGytZ-Gr_9GWcs5Sdbrdo_Ou-fHYJK03jK04sX8o76nJlg10HpuG2Fq6r-ZsNBM1_Zoi/s1600/Mon+Closer.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1FWgb7e_O3AQMqLjSfOFS-Jb4SCcqmEbGp5FDRgP8Xr1d0NTdshm_5apjm_JQnjQGQcnZtT8IGytZ-Gr_9GWcs5Sdbrdo_Ou-fHYJK03jK04sX8o76nJlg10HpuG2Fq6r-ZsNBM1_Zoi/s320/Mon+Closer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711804835839022802" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Going Through</span><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD3JdtLGijBgvLskf56TxRsnQ4CaPw6pj5oQNExMs3r4qdc3D4xAbw9vREwnGAxT8RLVrVAg9iRWYxlxPoVc7YjtuumqB7qb_Bd2L5dwgzIXopZNlM8ZCFcBf8xeLz0yRD03nPifO_nBOg/s1600/Mon+goin+through.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD3JdtLGijBgvLskf56TxRsnQ4CaPw6pj5oQNExMs3r4qdc3D4xAbw9vREwnGAxT8RLVrVAg9iRWYxlxPoVc7YjtuumqB7qb_Bd2L5dwgzIXopZNlM8ZCFcBf8xeLz0yRD03nPifO_nBOg/s320/Mon+goin+through.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711804840940446930" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf03HDYk7vubIPBQUZB_HvuUIooLxCXyOi6Pqx5alc-woddGWwAwNFd6RND8lskOC9t02men3pbaD46SOtCYxvegaP4JLLwRJDH-ZlROcZALgFbpmyKGnwKFDm69Xpj1qp8901vgMEsZfM/s1600/DSC05802.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf03HDYk7vubIPBQUZB_HvuUIooLxCXyOi6Pqx5alc-woddGWwAwNFd6RND8lskOC9t02men3pbaD46SOtCYxvegaP4JLLwRJDH-ZlROcZALgFbpmyKGnwKFDm69Xpj1qp8901vgMEsZfM/s320/DSC05802.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711806131799052770" border="0" /></a>Elation!<br /><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Coming down from an adrenaline high, our route led us back south, this time to Winslow (INW). Lunchtime found us here enjoying blue corn enchiladas with green chili sauce. Hmmm. Then the long-awaited flight over the crater SW of Winslow. You might remember seeing it in the Film “Starman.” Another great photo op, not missed.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtEAj8lHHetgz2RFU8aP0huOBcvspohZ5815ay_sMIwYQcEfZzsDNt_H_Rd0Rj38PZOdxZIw66NNg5EIHSHu19NfvMKrZB3lcW8nWO6QMhBwX8LHvsmClUVOQUiQROYKMyJqoaiiJhL9_/s1600/DSC05891.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtEAj8lHHetgz2RFU8aP0huOBcvspohZ5815ay_sMIwYQcEfZzsDNt_H_Rd0Rj38PZOdxZIw66NNg5EIHSHu19NfvMKrZB3lcW8nWO6QMhBwX8LHvsmClUVOQUiQROYKMyJqoaiiJhL9_/s320/DSC05891.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711807014588446594" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Total trip: 8:00 am to touchdown back home at 6:10 pm. Time in the air 7.3 hours<br />Goal achieved. Arizona (and a bit of southern Utah) showed at their best.<br />Downwind at Goodyear, lit by sunset.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zwjJ7SPpY_VU0ifZzVEUPwCmVYd8zFKM3jw1VcUpM0-8vYQ1ylcjK-nggcm7I23s5YwJqp_CBA7eHymABs-V9_QuavjdiY-T89Ypac_xBBQIi1klSUkW2p9ktz3O-MklxU2isPuiH8Rk/s1600/DSC05918.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9zwjJ7SPpY_VU0ifZzVEUPwCmVYd8zFKM3jw1VcUpM0-8vYQ1ylcjK-nggcm7I23s5YwJqp_CBA7eHymABs-V9_QuavjdiY-T89Ypac_xBBQIi1klSUkW2p9ktz3O-MklxU2isPuiH8Rk/s320/DSC05918.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711807209588397762" border="0" /></a>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-71471641236048758952011-12-09T09:21:00.000-08:002011-12-09T09:34:03.765-08:00Took a Vacation<span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Since retirement in early June I’ve been busy as a bee.<span style=""> </span>Flitting here and there, intent on storing experiences;<span style=""> </span>traveling, seeing, doing.<span style=""> </span>Arrived at my AZ home just after Thanksgiving and since then have been doing, by my point of view, nothing.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>Okay.<span style=""> </span>I’ve done that now and don’t have to do it anymore.<span style=""> </span>Vacation over.<span style=""> </span>Task one is to relate some tales of the places I’ve enjoyed.</span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Slab City – In Liberty.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMQLuI7esLNXyJffeoJgOJ41BGDEna1RstNa25TckgIX_iaw0XDOW6yzWWFVj31-pUA-2CwUlszl7qwf1HmXVuX33oqeNH_X_gKiLegKbnb8v6LKfqE6O-mYHrGz62djXlSNOuFh8sm_8S/s1600/Slab+City+Sign.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMQLuI7esLNXyJffeoJgOJ41BGDEna1RstNa25TckgIX_iaw0XDOW6yzWWFVj31-pUA-2CwUlszl7qwf1HmXVuX33oqeNH_X_gKiLegKbnb8v6LKfqE6O-mYHrGz62djXlSNOuFh8sm_8S/s320/Slab+City+Sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684180716319881426" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I’d been hearing about this unique place, so placed it high on my list of places to go.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">You know you’ve arrived there when you see Salvation Mountain.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Some of this is an adobe-like mixture of dirt and straw, but much of it is simply paint on compacted earth.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">I didn’t meet the artist, as people this dedicated to religion make me uncomfortable, but I understand that his work continues.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Typ_ysPgY3SyzzFldDqYP3RyPqlJUY35G83Cod49oJcwiFrH1TPbinY3y9PKBADR1p1f0i_OJbb7VyyBfromNA661S6wdG6ohN0S5D3agNAKcfvsgEhygk40LwmYl9ExBwSW-ItbE2Mr/s1600/Salvation+Mt.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Typ_ysPgY3SyzzFldDqYP3RyPqlJUY35G83Cod49oJcwiFrH1TPbinY3y9PKBADR1p1f0i_OJbb7VyyBfromNA661S6wdG6ohN0S5D3agNAKcfvsgEhygk40LwmYl9ExBwSW-ItbE2Mr/s320/Salvation+Mt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684180719705098722" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I’ve been trying to think how to describe Slab City.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Freedom is the word that keeps coming to mind.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Pull in and park where you like – its free.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">The year-round residents live as they wish, in whatever style of home they can manage. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">They are free to be what they will.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYf_TOSmuM6bb39403XZBPCGYB52ZdcB_jv10WRDdMv3Ss7rBYVL9oNxZgubyV0X1vJYrjhQTJTRB-I0lN9wwqawGjsjy1XWVLih22hV_U9CwtM7QEm1E635-RhStaRLPAo8Mu3kQ7EzIG/s1600/Slab+Junk.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYf_TOSmuM6bb39403XZBPCGYB52ZdcB_jv10WRDdMv3Ss7rBYVL9oNxZgubyV0X1vJYrjhQTJTRB-I0lN9wwqawGjsjy1XWVLih22hV_U9CwtM7QEm1E635-RhStaRLPAo8Mu3kQ7EzIG/s320/Slab+Junk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684182168827865858" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Winter visitors migrate here for fresh air, sunshine, inspiring sunrises and sunsets.<span style=""> </span>Several traveling groups have established permanent presences here with club houses and meeting areas.<span style=""> </span>I was invited to join one for their happy hour, a group called the Travel n Pals.<span style=""> </span>Some in that group indicated they’ve been wintering here for 20 years!<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Slab City offers some of the amenities of a city.<span style=""> </span>On Saturday nights, at sunset The Range offers live music, welcoming anyone to sing or play.<span style=""> </span>Sound system and lighting provided by Solar.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfi7fRYkeJHmVOs73PHP9BP5ouoZ5dc3iHnKPbmr4DrxrhCesYIwLntyfVk8F5eA8HXBI-kJ4Dig-as2Iz-Izq24PNAZvj1ZBUXZ49lwa51h71-AgczzTdSUW6tiL5-tTNgpl5Pe6UeB2Y/s1600/The+Range+close.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfi7fRYkeJHmVOs73PHP9BP5ouoZ5dc3iHnKPbmr4DrxrhCesYIwLntyfVk8F5eA8HXBI-kJ4Dig-as2Iz-Izq24PNAZvj1ZBUXZ49lwa51h71-AgczzTdSUW6tiL5-tTNgpl5Pe6UeB2Y/s320/The+Range+close.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684180723190799026" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></p> <p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">There is a library, internet café, and radio station.<span style=""> </span>Art in many forms, is everywhere.</span></p><p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqEx-U1jZZyzYq-2oOuPbADjTdpqM-P82jkGKgp2DSvGEzVcBE1YwVU-BMnPTGfbbab7GRcoiPaBJPtYoyM2sGOY5Y-E5tk7pP3iSpC7vZAliETFXHEUrvOK_T0o7UOTJmLfXuz_sGv2h/s1600/Range+Art.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqEx-U1jZZyzYq-2oOuPbADjTdpqM-P82jkGKgp2DSvGEzVcBE1YwVU-BMnPTGfbbab7GRcoiPaBJPtYoyM2sGOY5Y-E5tk7pP3iSpC7vZAliETFXHEUrvOK_T0o7UOTJmLfXuz_sGv2h/s320/Range+Art.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684180733037008210" border="0" /></a></p> <p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></p> <p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">Before you visit, be aware that freedom has a price.<span style=""> </span>Some of the people who choose to live here, may not fit your idea of ideal neighbors.<span style=""> </span>There is a lot of trash around, which while considered property to some, would to many be unsightly garbage.</span></p><p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style=""> </span>Go to Slab City with an open, non-judgmental mind.<span style=""> </span>If you do, you will be welcomed openly and warmly, as I was.</span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">Living here is free.<span style=""> </span></span></p>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-54306210257073512902011-11-12T22:39:00.000-08:002011-11-12T22:55:33.773-08:00Real World Friends<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">While on I my recent trip, which I’ve dubbed “Goin East” I had an opportunity to meet a woman I’d gotten to know quite well, by following her blog. She told not of travels, but of her life. I cried with her, and celebrated, and learned from her comments on life. She started her blog as an outlet for her need to write, and write she does. Her posts are warm, funny, and powerful. How could I not stop and visit in person, especially when she extended an invite?<br /><br />Not being the first person, I’d gotten to know online, I was comfortable with and looking forward to our visit. Not disappointed. She invited me into her home, introduced her husband and dog. A husband who trusts his wife’s instincts enough to welcome a stranger into his home, is quite a guy. He also makes a mean breakfast, and provided boots to take me exploring the Mississippi river behind their home.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfCx75ve_BGG1D3U5isAdU9QhiNgtTcRXRn8RjEGmsuPAMebf25G39ZCZtzgidt9VPrB9AJCBQ_u9ZONJXB6cOR0cRFNM6ex7LTuU7bM1zsnvk6FZyAtCnkU8LYw78xbofaFb6RpIqPo6t/s1600/DSCF1086.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfCx75ve_BGG1D3U5isAdU9QhiNgtTcRXRn8RjEGmsuPAMebf25G39ZCZtzgidt9VPrB9AJCBQ_u9ZONJXB6cOR0cRFNM6ex7LTuU7bM1zsnvk6FZyAtCnkU8LYw78xbofaFb6RpIqPo6t/s320/DSCF1086.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674369179798043826" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">My hostess (You’ll notice that I’m not mentioning any names, or places as this lady needs to keep her privacy.) took time out of her busy schedule to take me on a driving and walking tour of the big city near her home. I marveled at art in the public parks..<br /><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYl1jFQppTHz9_iCg93bQbwgcL52-UL0peoi6es6AmfpcaIHlt2GfLnEDKmtlWkUctbjMM6X7WTkr3YjXM2b8JMQmDIZh1zPTMNEuvjuTd1-WKcYmjfIRVqz5s27cQ6NRk1uwPVnOrzgwd/s1600/DSCF1035.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYl1jFQppTHz9_iCg93bQbwgcL52-UL0peoi6es6AmfpcaIHlt2GfLnEDKmtlWkUctbjMM6X7WTkr3YjXM2b8JMQmDIZh1zPTMNEuvjuTd1-WKcYmjfIRVqz5s27cQ6NRk1uwPVnOrzgwd/s320/DSCF1035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674369175495336994" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> and grand homes in the historical district.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSB5MdsZemYYqUehrQK7UDM2Vn9Cbmg5TONu9YwveLpn3wLk6tdDQPFUvV_bJErgTNJQdKHni030FokPNDvRT3Mdz7lHRY4AkGkOu0JJ2H5gmlfVEkgak5YH-lOxyUf_gC9MR7pljxGX5J/s1600/DSCF1045.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSB5MdsZemYYqUehrQK7UDM2Vn9Cbmg5TONu9YwveLpn3wLk6tdDQPFUvV_bJErgTNJQdKHni030FokPNDvRT3Mdz7lHRY4AkGkOu0JJ2H5gmlfVEkgak5YH-lOxyUf_gC9MR7pljxGX5J/s320/DSCF1045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674369190508762978" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">But as much as I enjoyed and appreciated all I saw, my fondest memory of the stopover is an unexpectedly warm, soft moonlit evening when we all sat on the front porch and talked.<br /><br />We’ve all read the horror stories about people using the internet to do mischief. So I feel the need to mention that being careful is important, but don’t let fear stop you from reaching out to others. Maybe all you’ll do is become email buddies, but maybe you’ll be as lucky as I have, and make new friends that you can meet in the real world.<br /><br />Thank you for the opportunity to be a part of your life, my new friends.<br /><br /></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-64231252530875578332011-11-01T07:37:00.000-07:002011-11-01T07:44:54.888-07:00Another 15 Minutes.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">While visiting with Joyce in Indiana, a local reporter came out to interview us.<br /><br />Lydia Beers was a delightful young woman just starting her career who showed a lot of interest in flying and asked good questions. Joyce and I enthusiastically introduced her to airplanes and flying and ourselves, sharing our flying stories with her.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_wAjiQEYpJH7-DwCn2xL1lHcxzk98pLBdLEomNS8bAghe698Srh4YbAonqWVeO-2TtTVBBD_aLOPNXlnM5hdQC2mtXNxtTZVBbHtx1Q6LZaCTE3mHH0hUJMHc48yMddQFOShHpQxf5eZ/s1600/Lydia+Beers+in+Skylark.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_wAjiQEYpJH7-DwCn2xL1lHcxzk98pLBdLEomNS8bAghe698Srh4YbAonqWVeO-2TtTVBBD_aLOPNXlnM5hdQC2mtXNxtTZVBbHtx1Q6LZaCTE3mHH0hUJMHc48yMddQFOShHpQxf5eZ/s320/Lydia+Beers+in+Skylark.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670037682140424930" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">It had been our intention to take her on a flight as well, but she was unable to meet us at the nearby airport, and we didn’t feel a take-off from a short grass strip with tall power lines at one end was an appropriate introduction to flying. Rule one is, of course, never scare the passengers.<br /><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrDfQaTX1ACgXy-nIKuOmvr31Zm6RAukkz4GOKFCp3XP4POYHVL1Yj75Y0wvxpGJAF8pH4WJoLC6SZEB8s8pn4JGgmEB5TIQmfq3hyphenhyphenn8zPL8BPDfPY_0yKJXkTxTaePR1v3JzasR0YJDnN/s1600/Lydia+Beers+in+Path.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrDfQaTX1ACgXy-nIKuOmvr31Zm6RAukkz4GOKFCp3XP4POYHVL1Yj75Y0wvxpGJAF8pH4WJoLC6SZEB8s8pn4JGgmEB5TIQmfq3hyphenhyphenn8zPL8BPDfPY_0yKJXkTxTaePR1v3JzasR0YJDnN/s320/Lydia+Beers+in+Path.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670037617803930130" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I just learned that the article has appeared in <a href="http://thepilotnews.com/content/%E2%80%98joyce-east-meets-joyce-west%E2%80%99"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Pilot News</span></a>. How could a newspaper with that name not cover our unique story?<br /><br /><br /></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-10780404628524936532011-10-27T10:40:00.000-07:002011-10-27T11:05:29.091-07:00Artisans<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">In the Pioneer Village gift shop I spotted a section of small brooms. I’d been looking for one to use in Liberty as full-sized brooms do not work well in small living spaces.<br /><br />Meet Pat Haight – official broom maker at the village.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-Hx3FBvf6CQBurN50H8GbcN3buHrHJ7qDta69mErLloEe05m_M8-5i7yG6qpQidlhltWzFxX8n_eEC3k4BCr2eqbo5HAYOCHuhifaylPo7_yNwQzibXA2gbHWQYoUgrTvTSwMmQ-6cP4/s1600/Pat+Haight.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-Hx3FBvf6CQBurN50H8GbcN3buHrHJ7qDta69mErLloEe05m_M8-5i7yG6qpQidlhltWzFxX8n_eEC3k4BCr2eqbo5HAYOCHuhifaylPo7_yNwQzibXA2gbHWQYoUgrTvTSwMmQ-6cP4/s320/Pat+Haight.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668230100333944258" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">He invited me into his workshop and demonstrated the process, which was captivating.<br />This equipment holds the stick so the broom straws can be wired on.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3XU9J-XRpMMN-v-nhfCEK2yUwbFZSwB4uFkHbbnbgP88e3VwhjFAcR5Oly9ZHgzRFxOiBhTMoWbM28KDCY4BY9jQi65gvWha3FDCmmMvVmZaS4T_Al5zwwWzUfitAUi5T0k552RybvsyL/s1600/Pat_machine.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3XU9J-XRpMMN-v-nhfCEK2yUwbFZSwB4uFkHbbnbgP88e3VwhjFAcR5Oly9ZHgzRFxOiBhTMoWbM28KDCY4BY9jQi65gvWha3FDCmmMvVmZaS4T_Al5zwwWzUfitAUi5T0k552RybvsyL/s320/Pat_machine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668230880665377346" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">A press of the foot spins the entire assembly allowing the wire to wrap smoothly and tightly.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyLOa0EUHV156gBhLp8waiajT1mwhdFJs8OFP7xph2brWxYAeR2AGdOdvR3L0ojcgeNI0brZL3ixjFUnbkYP3SiQwtZEpb-R5kHvVTTwlKAEpaEnvYJl3VOHcNzcdPOgpNaBalr2A8Tv9/s1600/Pat+foot+machine.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyLOa0EUHV156gBhLp8waiajT1mwhdFJs8OFP7xph2brWxYAeR2AGdOdvR3L0ojcgeNI0brZL3ixjFUnbkYP3SiQwtZEpb-R5kHvVTTwlKAEpaEnvYJl3VOHcNzcdPOgpNaBalr2A8Tv9/s320/Pat+foot+machine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668230541748041554" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The first layer is on, a second being added.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5XDfy9DN_je54uJkAm-uvLYtTWaOcunYHrGwgm1YsvLYWrQJ_quiKH2rkp4ug9KJwBESqn1WhCkUVfnOl7gzx4S1QLLkfHbJgZTjPX567HqUIaAzHeGFBL9AQatI_adKnwrDuoe-4NCZm/s1600/Pat+add+layer.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5XDfy9DN_je54uJkAm-uvLYtTWaOcunYHrGwgm1YsvLYWrQJ_quiKH2rkp4ug9KJwBESqn1WhCkUVfnOl7gzx4S1QLLkfHbJgZTjPX567HqUIaAzHeGFBL9AQatI_adKnwrDuoe-4NCZm/s320/Pat+add+layer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668230214376727522" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Then a reversed layer is added which is bent back over to create smooth shoulders.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ugLMmoYVo5oEHj5cEaJeLR8YqVMGo6u7Q8FkC9DQj_c-DemkEb0cyEly7CaetxOnJZVCPcOBM8q2M3COMJILJopSHYk1bdtGlQLfowvQ9Kfrrlz7i8mzSXKapEDbfbc7XEzH4AqrhfTH/s1600/Pat+cover+layer.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ugLMmoYVo5oEHj5cEaJeLR8YqVMGo6u7Q8FkC9DQj_c-DemkEb0cyEly7CaetxOnJZVCPcOBM8q2M3COMJILJopSHYk1bdtGlQLfowvQ9Kfrrlz7i8mzSXKapEDbfbc7XEzH4AqrhfTH/s320/Pat+cover+layer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668230327934357266" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Final wire wrap is held in place with a small nail.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowwDFL6wRT7fi-wHTWEi6KgYtqWKze0bHUKxgjz-kcQ74HKJQotUDxA4GMMyYnURsdof9cHbF_bJa0XOsAbLhZeg2zaHZhRhpy8QsWa7xUYhqLecOULoFHAZtUjTAip7C6yZHYbtBaD62/s1600/Pat+final+wire.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjowwDFL6wRT7fi-wHTWEi6KgYtqWKze0bHUKxgjz-kcQ74HKJQotUDxA4GMMyYnURsdof9cHbF_bJa0XOsAbLhZeg2zaHZhRhpy8QsWa7xUYhqLecOULoFHAZtUjTAip7C6yZHYbtBaD62/s320/Pat+final+wire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668230430677775010" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Here the broom head is stitched so it lays flat.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUHhR_LAf0radYUeQyCZM4fSqvlvblCI-zYCAT-1_OB7bx095HcNpfwUnoz0Y6Ob9jLvMhUnBkUdm7rlNTXLJEIJ4eJEoVb-4fy0Zv1_lKEy7ngvOuErf3xdV32qxQqMkhzp8cCvJBrqRz/s1600/Pat+stichin.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUHhR_LAf0radYUeQyCZM4fSqvlvblCI-zYCAT-1_OB7bx095HcNpfwUnoz0Y6Ob9jLvMhUnBkUdm7rlNTXLJEIJ4eJEoVb-4fy0Zv1_lKEy7ngvOuErf3xdV32qxQqMkhzp8cCvJBrqRz/s320/Pat+stichin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668230657048736674" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Final step is the trimmer which efficiently chops the straws to an even length.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3K8sBfe7VKwwe2ytOT7gZk3IM0AetBMvfleZxsJDIsmOciog1BTuqOBnUy_ofBOmNDz9QifhAHZtF8wPWue6o5gFLesfoXHH93iWr33PgACJ5miVm1z1VwrPL4UtiLi5RJ88r8h4wTRj9/s1600/Pat+trimming.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3K8sBfe7VKwwe2ytOT7gZk3IM0AetBMvfleZxsJDIsmOciog1BTuqOBnUy_ofBOmNDz9QifhAHZtF8wPWue6o5gFLesfoXHH93iWr33PgACJ5miVm1z1VwrPL4UtiLi5RJ88r8h4wTRj9/s320/Pat+trimming.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668230782275772290" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Pat makes a variety of brooms for different uses, and has added dyed broom straw for his Fall and Christmas versions.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWrPvse2ASW8bt50r0lWLysiX55-YVtLOJMKEJIGi4n3F04-qreFgFfZKTEXdDhxQMaKTmDOXWx4QL7TU-gz6DchvRqDWl73XzT-xY6TXzlvh2_01haYkNiNApqdV34YIBK78Rozy128fD/s1600/Pat+his+shop.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWrPvse2ASW8bt50r0lWLysiX55-YVtLOJMKEJIGi4n3F04-qreFgFfZKTEXdDhxQMaKTmDOXWx4QL7TU-gz6DchvRqDWl73XzT-xY6TXzlvh2_01haYkNiNApqdV34YIBK78Rozy128fD/s320/Pat+his+shop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668230972082257314" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />In this same building is another artisan.<br />This is Fran Curtis. She uses an antique loom to make rag rugs.<br /><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxIOyzX9KpnWhcyY7NDYCXnvaHxVmyZXZrX_WHbTDnI8Nn1jgDip3JvlfGZ_MhbOBu4k-mtgxMjmH91Ll5WxlxKDnJ89clYAEvEOEt0mCLDQrs_H9Vye8JhJSYqPYCgZqJ8IEfIJVNy6eY/s1600/Fran+n+loom.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxIOyzX9KpnWhcyY7NDYCXnvaHxVmyZXZrX_WHbTDnI8Nn1jgDip3JvlfGZ_MhbOBu4k-mtgxMjmH91Ll5WxlxKDnJ89clYAEvEOEt0mCLDQrs_H9Vye8JhJSYqPYCgZqJ8IEfIJVNy6eY/s320/Fran+n+loom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668233056581406322" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I own several made on a similar loom by my grandmother and consider them far too precious to place on a floor where someone might actually walk on them. Memories of Grandma making these rugs has long since vanished, so I was thrilled to spend time watching Fran at work. Like Pat, she is proud of her creations and excited to share the process.<br /><br />It is with this treadle (foot powered) sewing machine that Fran pieces together the long strips of fabric.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMSXNaH4c_Jaw0ubd7Dg1Ct8pXTq-QeBEks5MvVJ5kkcgfSLRKEvt5I1NAbj-QZ1GJUK8Aup6gml7bHIa9fOZ6QkN48HZqDvde66wRbK8EdOouQIh2NqYNGc-k4KjPASMVcLMzYb8MufF/s1600/Fran+office.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMSXNaH4c_Jaw0ubd7Dg1Ct8pXTq-QeBEks5MvVJ5kkcgfSLRKEvt5I1NAbj-QZ1GJUK8Aup6gml7bHIa9fOZ6QkN48HZqDvde66wRbK8EdOouQIh2NqYNGc-k4KjPASMVcLMzYb8MufF/s320/Fran+office.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668229665137426690" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Here is some of Fran’s completed stock.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V6_t96NrwTI4iUZP_3SIZX_d1qeRy9Xgzm55oVILnfjjsLvkiJSEPEJCAHDGZOG79AGZ2ANbpqaLYRDnk5PMBVgF0O6iCHuoxaK2957KtN_euCq-DrjL3cSYR8p7oOsZPes4ZbT1aTNQ/s1600/Frans+stock.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V6_t96NrwTI4iUZP_3SIZX_d1qeRy9Xgzm55oVILnfjjsLvkiJSEPEJCAHDGZOG79AGZ2ANbpqaLYRDnk5PMBVgF0O6iCHuoxaK2957KtN_euCq-DrjL3cSYR8p7oOsZPes4ZbT1aTNQ/s320/Frans+stock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668229769493117314" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I purchased this one in shades of pink and told Fran that while I would treasure it, I <span style="font-style: italic;">would</span> put in on the floor next to my bed. She laughed and said that many people use these rugs as table runners or on sofa backs rather than risk foot traffic.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlN6f18ckkoSJddYez5eYbzpTVrepXnixHwl3jifbCMKFRUl7eCTz5srymuzDf6pgCPtCjAlyVrwzR_0jSZ86j9iDvoAS9PCQkEjdJYb12PI6yVTQlqXIRqDhMIgQT4JU5wqtetNZMCR1n/s1600/Fran+my+pink+rug.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlN6f18ckkoSJddYez5eYbzpTVrepXnixHwl3jifbCMKFRUl7eCTz5srymuzDf6pgCPtCjAlyVrwzR_0jSZ86j9iDvoAS9PCQkEjdJYb12PI6yVTQlqXIRqDhMIgQT4JU5wqtetNZMCR1n/s320/Fran+my+pink+rug.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668229563235991106" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The fun story here is the playful competition between these two craftsmen. Pat walked me over to Fran’s area and introduced me, adding “And she bought one of my brooms so I’m ahead.” It seems they keep a tally of dollar amounts sold. Pat however says, “I have to work much harder, as I must sell two brooms for every one of Fran’s rugs.”<br /><br />After visiting with Fran and watching her work, I bought two rugs and she gleefully planned how she would tell Pat that now she was ahead!<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Pat and Fran love to demonstrate these old skills to school groups that come through the museum, and are justifiably proud of their work. </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I will remember the enthusiasm, generosity and warmth of these two fine people every time I sweep or climb out of bed.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />The Loom Story (as copied from the tag on my rug)<br /><br />This loom was built by John Abrahamson, who lived southwest of Axtell, Nebraska. He used the beams of his sod house which was built in 1867, and torn down in 1878. It was fitted and pegged together, as looms and buildings were in the days before nails were common.<br />Mrs. Abrahamson received 10 cents per yard for making rugs from rags furnished by her folks for whom she did weaving with this loom.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-40416351089507493652011-10-16T16:16:00.000-07:002011-10-16T16:42:31.931-07:00Home and Occupied<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />As you know, I started traveling the US at the end of August. Upon my return to AZ on Friday the 14th, I’d visited 27 states. In those states I talked to people, lots of them. From rich to poor, old to young. White, Black, Hispanic, Asian, and Native American. I didn’t find a single person that wasn’t worried. The economy, government control, taxes, politicians that don’t listen, education, environment, big corporate control, health care…I think that covers most concerns.<br /><br />I didn’t start these “political” discussions, but was a bit surprised at the number of citizens who did. We the People are worried, mad, scared, disgusted, and sick about the direction our country is going.<br /><br />As a pilot of a small plane, I land at small airports (for the most part) and thus visit small towns. Towns where the depression has hit hard. In every single one I saw closed businesses. In one, while walking 2 long blocks I passed 3 closed down motels – on the main street. I met a car salesman who has taken a second job as people aren’t buying. People in their 30’s with good educations who are applying for jobs where they are one of several hundred. In bigger cities like San Antonio and Atlanta the signs are not as obvious, but the conversations were the same. Jobs, healthcare, end of war, fuel prices, rising food costs.<br /><br />In South Dakota while visiting cousins I heard about the occupation of Wall Street. I heard about the 99% movement and I rejoiced. We the People are getting up off our fat butts, turning off our televisions, game consoles and computers and doing something. Not just talking about it, not just complaining. I cannot remember how many times I’ve said that if we do not stop being complacent sheep, we cannot be surprised when led to the slaughter.<br /><br />Yesterday, at Cesar Chavez Plaza in front of Phoenix City Hall I was proud to join with a lot of Americans at “Occupy Phoenix”.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezAgAHlchEttVFXnOueGkgLejuQZrrpDcMp2lTg-9DFO5pjWD44Bur9QYXnnRuvEw-3G_pmJyr62rQl3b9eIVJdfd3Ehsmz5yjaLI6_tdiF2k1FwMUk67QSijXzWLTtqVm1hRQvwifRwr/s1600/city+hall.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezAgAHlchEttVFXnOueGkgLejuQZrrpDcMp2lTg-9DFO5pjWD44Bur9QYXnnRuvEw-3G_pmJyr62rQl3b9eIVJdfd3Ehsmz5yjaLI6_tdiF2k1FwMUk67QSijXzWLTtqVm1hRQvwifRwr/s320/city+hall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664235139988544754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Who was there? Babies, toddlers, Moms, Dads, Grandparents. One thing was the same about everyone there – they were mad as hell and didn’t want to take it anymore. I wandered through the crowd talking, listening, reading the signs. Speakers were supported with cheers. Signs were laid out for those who had none.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQkJ5x5gPM2f_5zb_Fko_dtzjaOOCx1Vgl5IJKPFYA35HUqrubZz-k00HhOPwunyZKNGR94RNxESZldY3DIz0JEtjWIEgkphIh5GKhq3wkG_RV5TctZ_U2Z54uoyiN21KIPL7vCUSz9Si/s1600/signs.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQkJ5x5gPM2f_5zb_Fko_dtzjaOOCx1Vgl5IJKPFYA35HUqrubZz-k00HhOPwunyZKNGR94RNxESZldY3DIz0JEtjWIEgkphIh5GKhq3wkG_RV5TctZ_U2Z54uoyiN21KIPL7vCUSz9Si/s320/signs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664238276150990258" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">This man's sign speaks for seniors..<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitF30y-SlUaIUEXDTUZN1c9VOI6QI2czCXgQ4aYZsEl8GYbysHe_TAXUWq6L7FSUFBXiV9S7RxgctrtGZVA5VU4pJoXJh5rVofaCUDhkpVNcEj275XhxWlQb8jdC74_SxxvaXPByPT6-Gc/s1600/Played+rules.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitF30y-SlUaIUEXDTUZN1c9VOI6QI2czCXgQ4aYZsEl8GYbysHe_TAXUWq6L7FSUFBXiV9S7RxgctrtGZVA5VU4pJoXJh5rVofaCUDhkpVNcEj275XhxWlQb8jdC74_SxxvaXPByPT6-Gc/s320/Played+rules.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664235353917805010" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">This one for many...<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3bLOePD5Qey0BQt5_JBZ0XMcvqTLtV2C-G0F_eUcOtdDjG3xzUQ3687ksC2cL9n4gcnkra2VzTw8o1dEDRHb3mA_lMLYtOkpuwA-AJLGRe5lca-DUTJIG-x0_jb7I-vltH9hKaS66tUd/s1600/hat+in+hand.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3bLOePD5Qey0BQt5_JBZ0XMcvqTLtV2C-G0F_eUcOtdDjG3xzUQ3687ksC2cL9n4gcnkra2VzTw8o1dEDRHb3mA_lMLYtOkpuwA-AJLGRe5lca-DUTJIG-x0_jb7I-vltH9hKaS66tUd/s320/hat+in+hand.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664235285228799538" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />A grandmother brought her granddaughter to learn about American Freedom.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEnbpJq1S-K8geZU47o9koH6hap2ftLYOEdE5rWHBSL2_1q2pq_-Ex1ai2TLxQDjYLqSU9Tyf_EcbpEsz-VqVa18cjCGkUSsIK0MdCjVmbeS5vF65kHdOsCA-UPLccMalWb0nY0cuFYq_j/s1600/Granddaughter.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEnbpJq1S-K8geZU47o9koH6hap2ftLYOEdE5rWHBSL2_1q2pq_-Ex1ai2TLxQDjYLqSU9Tyf_EcbpEsz-VqVa18cjCGkUSsIK0MdCjVmbeS5vF65kHdOsCA-UPLccMalWb0nY0cuFYq_j/s320/Granddaughter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664235201422228978" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Volunteers wandered passing out and refilling water bottles. A group supporting peace setup a food line and served a fine lunch to hundreds. People’s stores popped up with clothing, shoes and books free to those who needed them. Representatives of many causes took the opportunity to hand out literature.<br /><br />One group arrived on the north edge of the plaza and started a confrontation. I heard it said that they did not feel they were appropriately represented at the Occupy. Some occupiers faced them, but others encouraged “Don’t engage, turn and walk away.” “Let’s keep it peaceful here.” And it was.<br /><br />Phoenix police were everywhere. I had never before seen so many patrol cars and other police vehicles in one place. I counted 45 in 3 blocks. Wearing all black uniforms with gas masks and billy clubs hanging from their belts the officers remained along the north and south sides of the plaza, many standing in the 105 degree sun. They didn’t look happy to be there, and must have been afraid of what might happen. I read this morning that when the Rally moved to a local park, arrests were made and pepper spray unleashed. <br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmHYoeD-9llZZB2XQkDnIfWblm4jBP2IEtOYE1Ahf9pXIEoQJlUUYU9YpifyFVIZbYkbL-RXMJcTgx_dZaAubls_M6KyBH2cNOvpxJ4_ApRZivQnw5xGIFMOwrmW1TuPMJ1Jm-x4OwQkG/s1600/police.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmHYoeD-9llZZB2XQkDnIfWblm4jBP2IEtOYE1Ahf9pXIEoQJlUUYU9YpifyFVIZbYkbL-RXMJcTgx_dZaAubls_M6KyBH2cNOvpxJ4_ApRZivQnw5xGIFMOwrmW1TuPMJ1Jm-x4OwQkG/s320/police.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664238750889228498" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I would encourage us to remember that police officers are just folks like us, doing a job to support themselves and their families. Each officer who is issued pepper spray in my county in Washington is required to take a heavy spray direct to the face so they know exactly what the people they must spray will be experiencing. Are there officers who enjoy pushing their weight around? Sure. The same as with any other position of power – some jerks exist, but I firmly believe, from personally knowing many officers, that they are just doing a difficult job, and doing it fairly more often than not.<br /><br />Citizens were polite, considerate and helpful to one another. The few exchanges resulting from strong differences of opinion were of short duration. Sign carriers, and those in costume cheerfully posed for photos. Video cameras were everywhere. The atmosphere was upbeat, a party atmosphere with people seeming to feel hopeful that what they were participating in would make a difference.<br /><br />I’d like to think they were right. I encourage all of you to watch for local plans for 99% or Occupy events. Get up and go. Write to your electeds. It usually seems like they don’t care, and simply respond with a polite form letter, but if we keep trying…it couldn’t hurt…and it just might help.<br /><br /></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-33914699763647016762011-10-12T19:15:00.000-07:002011-10-12T19:28:12.175-07:00Discovery in Nebraska<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Since September 9th, I’ve traveled across much of the country. I’ve visited a lot of interesting places, and had some unforgettable experiences. Starting to sound like the journey is over, and this portion is winding down. I’m now in Minden Nebraska which is roughly 800 miles from the Arizona house. I’ll probably make that run in two days flying.<br /><br />But meanwhile, let me tell you about what I discovered here in Minden. <a href="http://www.pioneervillage.org/">The Pioneer Village Museum</a>. The creation of Harold Warp, a Nebraska native, entrepreneur and visionary. With the success of his plastics business he made the decision to collect and preserve our history and achievements. He started with 20 empty acres and built his museum, bringing in historic buildings, and beginning the process of finding, collecting and housing a shopping list of Americana. <br /><br />Geesh, I’m starting to sound like a brochure. What I want to get across is that from the outside I found myself thinking “Well, I’m here, so even though it doesn’t look like much, I’ll check it out.” A few steps inside the main building and I found it hard to keep my mouth closed as my jaw kept dropping. 2 ½ hours later I’d managed to <span style="font-style: italic;">almost</span> see most of that one building. Thank goodness they have a reasonably priced hotel I’d already checked into. This is a museum that takes, no demands, a full day plus to see it all. Admission automatically includes the second day. For RV travelers they have a large, free parking area (no hookups).<br /><br />I took several hundred photos and would like to tell you what display was my favorite, but cannot – too many to choose. Every facet of the American way of life, every tool and machine is represented all laid out in chronological order. Depicting laundry, for example, starts with washboards and then presents what has to be every form of washing machine invented up through the 60’s. Here is one that is dog powered!<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3mTJBc2nuPAwkiPKMLWBlzPgdOlLKYcxVvZ7ofBT3VVyG4RQKfNFTGApIxpA8ffV-AgXTkc6tQnha5c8PndykfYN2RMr5KiwVpBTfFhRxiaL35HVTSu86J1wCRuTqK-2T2pqH46C7rkW/s1600/washer_dog+powered.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3mTJBc2nuPAwkiPKMLWBlzPgdOlLKYcxVvZ7ofBT3VVyG4RQKfNFTGApIxpA8ffV-AgXTkc6tQnha5c8PndykfYN2RMr5KiwVpBTfFhRxiaL35HVTSu86J1wCRuTqK-2T2pqH46C7rkW/s320/washer_dog+powered.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662796799839018450" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I’ll post later about some special people I met here, but meanwhile want to encourage you to put The Pioneer Village on your list of <span style="font-weight: bold;">must-see</span> places. I can, without reservation, say this museum is the “Smithsonian of the Mid-West.” <br /><br /></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-90248516872002394792011-10-11T21:49:00.000-07:002011-10-12T05:46:55.302-07:00Pilgramage<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">As a part of planning where I would go, at what airports I would land, I often let whimsy guide my hand.<br />Decorah was one such place. I needed to land in Iowa…where? All Spring I’d started my work morning by logging onto The Decorah Eagle Cam. I watched those baby eagles, worried about them, observed their interactions with each other and the parents. Would they survive the surprise Spring snow? Would the last to hatch (I called her #3) manage to get her share of food and not be destroyed by #1 and #2? It was a tough job, but I wasn’t alone..thousands watched, learned and marveled at nature. Without perspective, its hard to appreciate how big this nest is. 6-8 feet across, 4 feet deep. Many of those "twigs" are wrist sized.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStAya0-AvWHl_6Ans-HQh6OsYTWZvxq0G-eNNZjEaxXI412iLwG5ZiIPb73jNZBeyNE1UzfqLIPCaieiOVtQL6s0WBO8TBnN_S0aePuVH4lPEGKQerUF0Zi3-VkUw1k7K0UKYXV2wjlfB/s1600/nest.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStAya0-AvWHl_6Ans-HQh6OsYTWZvxq0G-eNNZjEaxXI412iLwG5ZiIPb73jNZBeyNE1UzfqLIPCaieiOVtQL6s0WBO8TBnN_S0aePuVH4lPEGKQerUF0Zi3-VkUw1k7K0UKYXV2wjlfB/s320/nest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662581652386486994" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhti3l3fN8Udc3Rr1wntMKNLCsPv8D15c-KCEHOMRBx3X20Iev9kU3UBDs3lxTahEePGEqSIDtjjVgVArc47W57gHfFqAAyd-64ulZBk2n9sv6yiWOo8qNJ8yCF7b0OnA9Z5qS6M-kZJtB2/s1600/Joyce+%2526+nest.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhti3l3fN8Udc3Rr1wntMKNLCsPv8D15c-KCEHOMRBx3X20Iev9kU3UBDs3lxTahEePGEqSIDtjjVgVArc47W57gHfFqAAyd-64ulZBk2n9sv6yiWOo8qNJ8yCF7b0OnA9Z5qS6M-kZJtB2/s320/Joyce+%2526+nest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662580121880549938" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Sometimes the keeper of the camera, would move its focus away from the nest and reveal surrounding countryside. Ah Clues! I soon had a clear picture of nest location with a little help from Google. Turned out that Decorah has an airport (DEH) and it offers a courtesy car. Decision made.<br /><br />Leaving Indiana, my first stop is in Wisconsin, at Platteville (PVB) just a few miles east of the Mississippi River. Just as I finished filling up with cheapest fuel so far on this trip - $4.90 per gallon, I spotted a Jet taxiing up to the FBO, followed closely by an arriving helicopter – military Black Hawk. Oh, and then three unmarked police vehicles. Guys in suits climbed out of the jet. Guys in officer uniforms from the copter, and very serious looking police stood guard. After all the suits and uniforms went inside I approached the police and asked what was going on. They indicated they could not say. I was also told that I could not enter the FBO. Hmmm… I took pictures, as best I could.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_HwnEmrLKlFbl094m-UJiakK8eHswneRfNNhyphenhyphenxDNGELnYp9tz73t-zbxIq2TK6aQaz8U6tQeGN1wv1Oo3r1a8T-RbMnkPQgpnUuxyMZ__HrStUmlZ-zKC25q3TAapfjpnaoh2wORb8ZS/s1600/secret+suits.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_HwnEmrLKlFbl094m-UJiakK8eHswneRfNNhyphenhyphenxDNGELnYp9tz73t-zbxIq2TK6aQaz8U6tQeGN1wv1Oo3r1a8T-RbMnkPQgpnUuxyMZ__HrStUmlZ-zKC25q3TAapfjpnaoh2wORb8ZS/s320/secret+suits.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662583670536159986" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Eventually I did get permission to go inside and use the bathroom, but a lot of very serious men kept a very close eye on me. No one had a clue what was going on, or would/could not say. I hate not having curiosity appeased.<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">But I was telling about Eagles of a feathered kind. Driving to the nest site felt like a pilgrimage. To see a place thousands of miles from my desk, standing along that familiar road, looking up at the nest I’d spent so many hours watching was an incredible experience.<br /><br />The parents had delivered a lot of fish to the eaglets and knowing a hatchery was nearby, I had a theory. I spoke with a man at the hatchery and he confirmed. Some of the fish where “stolen” from the holding ponds, but most were donated to the eagles. Each morning the crew scoops out any fish that have expired during the night and the eagles roosted in nearby trees waiting for free breakfast.<br /><br />Parents stay in the immediate vicinity of the nest, but at least one of the eaglets has been tracked into northern Wisconsin. No, I didn’t see the eagles, but it wasn’t really necessary, I was content with seeing the nest site in person.<br /><br />The balance of the flight on to my next stop at Buffalo, MN was uneventful, but slow with constant headwind. Total flight 435 nm. 4 hrs 40 minutes. States: Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Minnesota.<br /><br /></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-19321228295102952352011-10-04T04:49:00.000-07:002011-10-04T04:56:01.376-07:00Double Your Fun<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvEHDZrZJ2A92Y8PCZGETBEf2_8jDY10yxrqeLlLnhbF324ka3DIB95GdhWGhAXlCD_4FKKTJ3L3lbAqXt-7mnc00c3YQ-8L3hyC_T00g42rfZn4ZDuf2pr7Mdlcl6ebBB_39h2KaRw0Y/s1600/Joyces+with+planes.jpg"><br /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">It’s true. Every word of this post.<br /><br />For those of you who don’t know, my name is Joyce Rust. Since Saturday I’ve been a guest in the Indiana home of Joyce Rust. Note the word “guest.” That means exactly what it seems. . . there are two of us.<br /><br />Two years ago I Googled myself (it was all the rage) and discovered that I owned a grass airport in Indiana. What a nice surprise, I’d always wanted one! Maybe a year later I looked for this Joyce on Facebook – and there she was. We exchanged a couple messages, moved to email and started to learn a little about each other. I renamed us “Joyce West” and “Joyce East”.<br /><br />When I learned Joyce East is also a pilot…and flies a Cessna, I knew we had to meet and that someday I would land on her grass strip. Saturday I did. Well technically I arrived over the strip, circled fruitlessly for over 10 minutes and flew to the nearby town airport. Ever try to find a grass strip in farm country? Every other field looks good to land on, the farm buildings look like hangars.<br /><br />Joyce is a wonderful person who has made me feel like family. We’ve had fun watching people’s faces when I’m introduced. “Hello. I’d like you to meet my friend, Joyce Rust.”<br />“Your joking, right? “ “Nah, you got to be making this up.”<br /><br />Yesterday Joyce East flew me to town, after circling a couple times to point out landmarks so I could find the field. Two hours later I fulfilled my goal to set down on Rust Landing.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvEHDZrZJ2A92Y8PCZGETBEf2_8jDY10yxrqeLlLnhbF324ka3DIB95GdhWGhAXlCD_4FKKTJ3L3lbAqXt-7mnc00c3YQ-8L3hyC_T00g42rfZn4ZDuf2pr7Mdlcl6ebBB_39h2KaRw0Y/s1600/Joyces+with+planes.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvEHDZrZJ2A92Y8PCZGETBEf2_8jDY10yxrqeLlLnhbF324ka3DIB95GdhWGhAXlCD_4FKKTJ3L3lbAqXt-7mnc00c3YQ-8L3hyC_T00g42rfZn4ZDuf2pr7Mdlcl6ebBB_39h2KaRw0Y/s320/Joyces+with+planes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659603837637851010" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Our similarities grow with every conversation. From simple things like food preferences to our way of approaching challenges. I believe I’ve found a lifetime friend.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-10408221293751721122011-09-30T15:56:00.000-07:002011-09-30T16:54:06.578-07:00Three states..One Day<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Departed from Williamsburg (JGG) at 9:25 am. Beautiful clear blue sky..what a treat. Passed Richmond VA 15 minutes later flying at 3,500 and outside air temp a comfortable 65 degrees.<br /><br />At 10:25 spotted the first non-flat land - hills and then mountains. Later learned these were the Appalachians. I flew over and among them, snapping photos and marveling at their beauty, so different from, and yet as wonderful as those I've enjoyed in the Northwest.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY55WscGZCAXIyFqcxf10mMPG2etrZB1zuhqAb-9agfUK-d6DrrzZ6IMB3APY7Riz4SS6SlLZVj3mNBxkukJSH9qasUoUKbVYSc25YdKGLnRyL7f8h5CW4fEYVzaQNFkqjB6FuhViDYzgG/s1600/Appalachian+mts+w+sky.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY55WscGZCAXIyFqcxf10mMPG2etrZB1zuhqAb-9agfUK-d6DrrzZ6IMB3APY7Riz4SS6SlLZVj3mNBxkukJSH9qasUoUKbVYSc25YdKGLnRyL7f8h5CW4fEYVzaQNFkqjB6FuhViDYzgG/s320/Appalachian+mts+w+sky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658298144487844706" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">My first goal for today was Huntington WV to land at Tri-State airport (HTS), but just past Ingalls (HSP) and Moomaw Lake, both in VA...<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrth1QqUV5ebrrgsEQf9lru7DjtTpX52IzdClTGVz7GfZW5wH6NMkW7EuSlvDLMFSCwPYPMIs3njwpC6ds9Isy-km9tMJPfqxcgY-Sm6UnSKv0DNANtTe08wOs5f-e-tcJJqQ7g-hOumrK/s1600/HSP+Ingalls.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrth1QqUV5ebrrgsEQf9lru7DjtTpX52IzdClTGVz7GfZW5wH6NMkW7EuSlvDLMFSCwPYPMIs3njwpC6ds9Isy-km9tMJPfqxcgY-Sm6UnSKv0DNANtTe08wOs5f-e-tcJJqQ7g-hOumrK/s320/HSP+Ingalls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658298550051177602" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhviGqdRuSfcfGDsknVEJ-llXvmIbcEoanXxb6a6yrRVwSR6QFBhiBvl4a_PPbqFw_UtryAg-qzH-SGgAy96WL7I03O-a0RtmDlWM9r-XVLu3_UtecuaTTj30WUp854PZAVIDGD4BqgXpGR/s1600/Moomaw+Lake+WV.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhviGqdRuSfcfGDsknVEJ-llXvmIbcEoanXxb6a6yrRVwSR6QFBhiBvl4a_PPbqFw_UtryAg-qzH-SGgAy96WL7I03O-a0RtmDlWM9r-XVLu3_UtecuaTTj30WUp854PZAVIDGD4BqgXpGR/s320/Moomaw+Lake+WV.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658298960178145954" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I passed into WV and spotted Greenbrier Valley (LWB) in Lewisburg WV. This airport, nestled beautifully among the mountains was too good to pass up - it became my spot to add WV to the map. Also my spot to switch from shorts to jeans - 54 on the ground. I add cabin heat on departure and its welcome as outside temp is under 50 at 3,000.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6SokzA9BnEjslBJTAOC6zkhoN_MaxY380VoFE_aAelHWPx8eaevGBWlae8iiLz-28FLJKTm_7UCKFsJVN0vA4gra0yrTrn7DTC2Hpku9IcW_xartY-_tPr0sttfEnfD4l11RIp4UDiIO/s1600/LWB+Greenbrier+WV.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6SokzA9BnEjslBJTAOC6zkhoN_MaxY380VoFE_aAelHWPx8eaevGBWlae8iiLz-28FLJKTm_7UCKFsJVN0vA4gra0yrTrn7DTC2Hpku9IcW_xartY-_tPr0sttfEnfD4l11RIp4UDiIO/s320/LWB+Greenbrier+WV.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658298829133937314" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">From there to the Ohio River, I was surprised at the number of mines...I assume coal... that were often 3-4 in view at one time.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPctDoEMlRkuPiPwuPl-pcOps77hSTu74esOSFqN7RdZkbBds4SEDoyvrHXc4gobJTt_vD0sp6uqGSdGIEp1nlHlU8oCHb6xcmBYVN2-skFA9fKSf2kP3XJvKeaYvFQAkdoCVnkqNMIcaH/s1600/Coal+Mine+WV.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPctDoEMlRkuPiPwuPl-pcOps77hSTu74esOSFqN7RdZkbBds4SEDoyvrHXc4gobJTt_vD0sp6uqGSdGIEp1nlHlU8oCHb6xcmBYVN2-skFA9fKSf2kP3XJvKeaYvFQAkdoCVnkqNMIcaH/s320/Coal+Mine+WV.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658299118162773282" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The rest of the countryside was treed with steep river gullies, valleys and peaks. Farms are tucked into green clearings. Fall color is beginning to show and I suspect will be amazing in just another couple weeks...wish I could be here to see it.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT_sfrhbXlz7cyiajjfhwGQxpmuypFwnBet0Nk3eaREAPxo6g2Os0NzXVigSwT7swIYGhmDto2KytAAgT14NXL5W1xqssrjxOaJ2b1mNDZOt656YqvcagTInp5Ilu3tsrp-vs9T6zZlPWr/s1600/Appalachian+farm.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT_sfrhbXlz7cyiajjfhwGQxpmuypFwnBet0Nk3eaREAPxo6g2Os0NzXVigSwT7swIYGhmDto2KytAAgT14NXL5W1xqssrjxOaJ2b1mNDZOt656YqvcagTInp5Ilu3tsrp-vs9T6zZlPWr/s320/Appalachian+farm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658301440618760978" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Approaching the Charleston area ceilings lowered from 7,000 to 4,500 and rain squalls started. For the next 60 nm I flew around and through rain squalls, with visibility remaining at 5 miles or more, but sometimes going to 3 for short spurts. Spotting the Ohio River, I crossed over, flying from WV to OH to KY within minutes! Here is Huntington, WV.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbw6sKLCoVfqryNu2sG0ahsP3yU7SB9RfiVqXJfwE_VMyP9ZaCqEaED0P1rrPgka62bqOXQpExXOskXmg6EKqBvunpme3Hwc4rEAd8fvfWHkERjCKYneJMTSdicT9C5Eaz3ijzqMOCPmmJ/s1600/Huntington+WV+from+OH+side.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbw6sKLCoVfqryNu2sG0ahsP3yU7SB9RfiVqXJfwE_VMyP9ZaCqEaED0P1rrPgka62bqOXQpExXOskXmg6EKqBvunpme3Hwc4rEAd8fvfWHkERjCKYneJMTSdicT9C5Eaz3ijzqMOCPmmJ/s320/Huntington+WV+from+OH+side.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658298428243865218" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Landing at Ashland at 1:25 - yes those are raindrops.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSy8t0qj38mKG6qqXgG7xe4v5uWXBKWqMsXqaudgdCjepZkOIMk3BHGvSzcS319NiMc_eZxDAdXeKcha9SDDFcDnY5HVPHjk9U2LdNkB8Ck6cJsEIA6ZK95mmvaZM6bvfDfNRGt0NUeIrg/s1600/Ashland+KY_DWU.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSy8t0qj38mKG6qqXgG7xe4v5uWXBKWqMsXqaudgdCjepZkOIMk3BHGvSzcS319NiMc_eZxDAdXeKcha9SDDFcDnY5HVPHjk9U2LdNkB8Ck6cJsEIA6ZK95mmvaZM6bvfDfNRGt0NUeIrg/s320/Ashland+KY_DWU.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658298257837689570" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDMfs5UcGbZ0xcq4VZxoamB1cqHrQNdbw05lfmmvMDU2emVeF9BCnkGx0VHzRGmEXkAaUOXbrxlWFnZMbnvXRRaChkNsnacQin_yq8QdN-d6VmhtoBEeafs-10tyZm__MUSKMCqx7OlJde/s1600/Judy+DWU+Ashland.jpg"><br /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I take a break, order fuel ($5.45) and check weather ahead. The heavy winds continue in Indiana, just 228 miles ahead - but tomorrow, Saturday, is supposed to be clear and much calmer so I decide to spend the afternoon and evening in KY. <br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDMfs5UcGbZ0xcq4VZxoamB1cqHrQNdbw05lfmmvMDU2emVeF9BCnkGx0VHzRGmEXkAaUOXbrxlWFnZMbnvXRRaChkNsnacQin_yq8QdN-d6VmhtoBEeafs-10tyZm__MUSKMCqx7OlJde/s1600/Judy+DWU+Ashland.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDMfs5UcGbZ0xcq4VZxoamB1cqHrQNdbw05lfmmvMDU2emVeF9BCnkGx0VHzRGmEXkAaUOXbrxlWFnZMbnvXRRaChkNsnacQin_yq8QdN-d6VmhtoBEeafs-10tyZm__MUSKMCqx7OlJde/s320/Judy+DWU+Ashland.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658298692211294674" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Judy welcomed me, listened to my tales of travel, provided a courtesy van and map. Thanks for everything, Judy!<br /><br />I Poked around the area for a bit then dinner at Ruby Tuesdays - lobster, shrimp and crab cakes with fresh green beans and cheese/herb biscuits, all perfectly prepared and washed down with blackberry lemonade.<br /><br />I sit here at in a second floor room with a close view of a wooded hill and meadow with a feeding doe...calm and private... I can leave the curtains open.. and I thought dinner was the perfect end to a good day of flying. I can see the skies clearing already for my morning departure.<br /></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-79850525296130472582011-09-28T17:57:00.000-07:002011-09-28T18:19:32.862-07:00Both Sides of the USA<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YKc8v3zBIuIx9_MUtMb0NMndLjvR6ZhnNJdFVyzEce1UTIPMqPDHcXzshx21_booTYHD1rCJrGmQLdUfix6un99DBDmQtnFtDst7YJr7QjvYuSdx1UVSfEhJMRTwQpdxoi7_HwIpRunT/s1600/light+end+of+tunnel.jpg"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy84hiyxGCS4ZEdSUZFPfMkfhKi65m_dWBDDQhvq2t9LqnVTBUJF3lbZQPbW3zDQPy4zYKwcBaqOeyLVLcqD0gmtE9ZvcogeV2nh9cLeVOrSdHduvD2QenxLknm9FhxZDteDS9q6J-CBvt/s1600/Hampton+Roads+Beltway.jpg"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8aLInzmCWjUIXYdpaxyB_jaUYmwQU2OLn-v-tBJhq7n5Y15lJq4Va3z1f40HCmYQbNruzckzh7AoOurd_K_bml9NRptqLKGl3pqNtZi1CQHAUvuAzMowWZVFgHJf9rHTJWxMkRtPlSdTm/s1600/sweet+frog.jpg"><br /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Went to the beach today, Virginia Beach. A tourist area that post-season is quiet, almost eerily so. Rows of shops full of cheap tourist gee-gaws, empty but for bored employees. But I didn’t come to shop, I came to put feet into the Atlantic Ocean. So that is what I did. Now I've waded in both oceans - on each side of the Continent.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFDYJxe46oO2TpaLvs7aqn5OlwvZ2-9TvRuYQ9W5cWkKXkHiW-VmSAAVjIpx18YxaTXOH6ApNPMiCgzfWyAr6KsOeH3sxq0RHiIpevpo_7B8gGWXFQ4lYjmd0MuIWfBWf7wucbW5PDAr9Y/s1600/Atlantic+Ocean.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFDYJxe46oO2TpaLvs7aqn5OlwvZ2-9TvRuYQ9W5cWkKXkHiW-VmSAAVjIpx18YxaTXOH6ApNPMiCgzfWyAr6KsOeH3sxq0RHiIpevpo_7B8gGWXFQ4lYjmd0MuIWfBWf7wucbW5PDAr9Y/s320/Atlantic+Ocean.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657580039133601090" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Surprise! The water is not cold. Not quite as warm as Hawaii, but darn close. I could have comfortably swam, and wished I’d known it was possible since the day was perfect for it with sunshine and a soft breeze – probably low eighties.<br /><br />This little guy was busily cleaning up anything edible from the surf’s edge…fellow blogger Sondra has inspired me to try for bird photos and finally I got one worth posting!<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoTH2wxYPL0xpXlqqfnDq9fSA4p_M6SHOGIZMTMHIWxnKrKacgUdX8_4hJ85Y68g_aXQhcwI1VC470i6C8MRBNWGL3imNZ3xVaxPGsx0E_vWuGX2QiXgqY4EmGKwr-A0B457q10TKR5U6_/s1600/Little+shore+bird.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoTH2wxYPL0xpXlqqfnDq9fSA4p_M6SHOGIZMTMHIWxnKrKacgUdX8_4hJ85Y68g_aXQhcwI1VC470i6C8MRBNWGL3imNZ3xVaxPGsx0E_vWuGX2QiXgqY4EmGKwr-A0B457q10TKR5U6_/s320/Little+shore+bird.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657580196464822050" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">My sweet tooth that demands ice cream led me to this spot. A long row of self-serve spigots labeled with flavors then a longer row of toppings - fresh fruit, cookie bits, crushed candy bars, nuts, etc. If you’ve ever heard or thought about putting it on ice cream – this place had it. Cost? Just 45 cents per ounce. Somehow I managed to pile on $6.26 cents worth. Sure was good, try it if you see the store.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8aLInzmCWjUIXYdpaxyB_jaUYmwQU2OLn-v-tBJhq7n5Y15lJq4Va3z1f40HCmYQbNruzckzh7AoOurd_K_bml9NRptqLKGl3pqNtZi1CQHAUvuAzMowWZVFgHJf9rHTJWxMkRtPlSdTm/s1600/sweet+frog.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8aLInzmCWjUIXYdpaxyB_jaUYmwQU2OLn-v-tBJhq7n5Y15lJq4Va3z1f40HCmYQbNruzckzh7AoOurd_K_bml9NRptqLKGl3pqNtZi1CQHAUvuAzMowWZVFgHJf9rHTJWxMkRtPlSdTm/s320/sweet+frog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657580773189151746" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinisWIire8D6lovAfRx76o4tOjdNo0bgTzE9bd6KMoESeKhQ-ntlTVb2ZMM-Cfwr8-hEEz6Z_wvVDkWNmHKFk7ofttFpt1Z6io92vOhc4JYKQNP5pTme48tGwp1GRM_yzoWOdgsm2zpdFT/s1600/sweet+frog+treat.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinisWIire8D6lovAfRx76o4tOjdNo0bgTzE9bd6KMoESeKhQ-ntlTVb2ZMM-Cfwr8-hEEz6Z_wvVDkWNmHKFk7ofttFpt1Z6io92vOhc4JYKQNP5pTme48tGwp1GRM_yzoWOdgsm2zpdFT/s320/sweet+frog+treat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657580325734423954" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Both ways we had to drive through this tunnel, which goes UNDER a body of water strangely called Hampton Roads. Do not care much for tunnels. Never been in a tunnel under water..didn’t like the idea. Positive that roof above our heads was bulging downward. I told my niece that “just one drop of water on the windshield and your going go to have an out of control adult on your hands.” She found it uproariously funny. Not. Did I mention it was miles long? Well, it was. But on the way back, I was better prepared so took a photo..(see the bulge?)<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy84hiyxGCS4ZEdSUZFPfMkfhKi65m_dWBDDQhvq2t9LqnVTBUJF3lbZQPbW3zDQPy4zYKwcBaqOeyLVLcqD0gmtE9ZvcogeV2nh9cLeVOrSdHduvD2QenxLknm9FhxZDteDS9q6J-CBvt/s1600/Hampton+Roads+Beltway.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy84hiyxGCS4ZEdSUZFPfMkfhKi65m_dWBDDQhvq2t9LqnVTBUJF3lbZQPbW3zDQPy4zYKwcBaqOeyLVLcqD0gmtE9ZvcogeV2nh9cLeVOrSdHduvD2QenxLknm9FhxZDteDS9q6J-CBvt/s320/Hampton+Roads+Beltway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657581363463428434" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Happy once again, to have made it through Hampton Roads Beltway – alive, I spot the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YKc8v3zBIuIx9_MUtMb0NMndLjvR6ZhnNJdFVyzEce1UTIPMqPDHcXzshx21_booTYHD1rCJrGmQLdUfix6un99DBDmQtnFtDst7YJr7QjvYuSdx1UVSfEhJMRTwQpdxoi7_HwIpRunT/s1600/light+end+of+tunnel.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YKc8v3zBIuIx9_MUtMb0NMndLjvR6ZhnNJdFVyzEce1UTIPMqPDHcXzshx21_booTYHD1rCJrGmQLdUfix6un99DBDmQtnFtDst7YJr7QjvYuSdx1UVSfEhJMRTwQpdxoi7_HwIpRunT/s320/light+end+of+tunnel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657581650137847010" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy84hiyxGCS4ZEdSUZFPfMkfhKi65m_dWBDDQhvq2t9LqnVTBUJF3lbZQPbW3zDQPy4zYKwcBaqOeyLVLcqD0gmtE9ZvcogeV2nh9cLeVOrSdHduvD2QenxLknm9FhxZDteDS9q6J-CBvt/s1600/Hampton+Roads+Beltway.jpg"><br /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">For the entire drive military was very much in evidence. I saw ships at dock at Naval Station Norfolk, but too far away for a photo. Lots of fighters passing over Virginia Beach heading out to sea, two by two. A lovely airshow. I'm guessing they came from either Langley Air Force Base</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> or Felker Army Air Field as both are nearby. Lots of Chinooks buzzing about too. This area is heavily military with housing and forts and bases at every turn. My nephew is stationed here in the Navy on one of the big air craft carriers. What isn't military is historical and I'll tell about that later.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-56363852134874015312011-09-27T05:05:00.000-07:002011-09-27T05:41:16.067-07:00On Hallowed Ground<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I stood upon the spot from which powered flight began.<br /><br />I could feel the tingle of excitement, the rush of fear, the realization that this was it – the time to fly - that Orville Wright had to have experienced that day. December 17th, 1903.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij30NDk8ezfQQsv6J5AmTiP2a6RTxU6DjmQl-dRo3rKXCL-pUUA36UAdNT5Ok7RhOstmkd3udOZnbPI5I4mLumbPnVIQRiyLp8Yepd9bKTtb-pBFXgq2zRGZ_Vd2vUwPYAphbcBOdQ9BdP/s1600/I+standon+Hallowed+ground.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij30NDk8ezfQQsv6J5AmTiP2a6RTxU6DjmQl-dRo3rKXCL-pUUA36UAdNT5Ok7RhOstmkd3udOZnbPI5I4mLumbPnVIQRiyLp8Yepd9bKTtb-pBFXgq2zRGZ_Vd2vUwPYAphbcBOdQ9BdP/s320/I+standon+Hallowed+ground.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657014745666351490" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Of course I had read about the length of these flights, but the distances, and how short they were, is brought graphically to life with these granite markers, commemorating each one. (Phot taken from launch point)<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL3uMIjuHIZe5uWedEwa80hIBkGz_c9Th-1VHiLLeCfE2aXiUF3lNH_urtVO-K4cs1hY_UxyWUu0XTNFQbZwu5ElQnSuWboYPpzzYO30UwL1nvaqnW3oncbLndloLImNDioewn9OI_hbVB/s1600/4+flights+markers.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL3uMIjuHIZe5uWedEwa80hIBkGz_c9Th-1VHiLLeCfE2aXiUF3lNH_urtVO-K4cs1hY_UxyWUu0XTNFQbZwu5ElQnSuWboYPpzzYO30UwL1nvaqnW3oncbLndloLImNDioewn9OI_hbVB/s320/4+flights+markers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657009757386757506" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekUMj3N_ayUkOGy7A9XMRNk8o72nDDSVQNTDyed8vHojzTdRZRk3dxHt6-cKign_lPlnGxG1mvyB5tIuxV52SBB6d2EGmJogrqkDca3Tp_cnQ3M7VrPgyTY2N-nHTnSi7jmbxifB-55S9/s1600/1st+flight+marker.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekUMj3N_ayUkOGy7A9XMRNk8o72nDDSVQNTDyed8vHojzTdRZRk3dxHt6-cKign_lPlnGxG1mvyB5tIuxV52SBB6d2EGmJogrqkDca3Tp_cnQ3M7VrPgyTY2N-nHTnSi7jmbxifB-55S9/s320/1st+flight+marker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657009649466761522" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlaBLF9c3QFXdog6HS8JgOqvEQ8mq_AsW0icS6omlFUF8VXeqXsTngEGgagFPhg3ysb1OaYbkIVGuIIr-Xyg6ef2nfAF8hZXWAqJh6IJLLSbCO7veIwefMlVYzYDZXDb6DHj2oVI0MkxK/s1600/4th+flight+marker.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlaBLF9c3QFXdog6HS8JgOqvEQ8mq_AsW0icS6omlFUF8VXeqXsTngEGgagFPhg3ysb1OaYbkIVGuIIr-Xyg6ef2nfAF8hZXWAqJh6IJLLSbCO7veIwefMlVYzYDZXDb6DHj2oVI0MkxK/s320/4th+flight+marker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657010116562705698" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The weather was warm, but very wet. Rain squalls moved through with regularity some so hard that those with umbrellas or plastic ponchos sought shelter. But nothing stopped visitors for long. People walked the “flight line”, climbed the hill to walk around the monument, and wandered in and out of the two visitor centers. One featured a life size replica of the Wright Flyer. In this photo you can see Path parked on the edge of the taxiway outside.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwe5UA-8ZGtbfI9ASs3PN903GS3l_Y4l1H6WwtYUKLYqwg-yTyFmgrWmQPkA6t4ovFcC9cRLxsdlNmBBC2UYictn4lYcrp8djXnkYz1lFDIj7r-zQgT25ZUapn0ZSlSPUNCOGT-e3Sl5N/s1600/Flyer+n+Path+FFA.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwe5UA-8ZGtbfI9ASs3PN903GS3l_Y4l1H6WwtYUKLYqwg-yTyFmgrWmQPkA6t4ovFcC9cRLxsdlNmBBC2UYictn4lYcrp8djXnkYz1lFDIj7r-zQgT25ZUapn0ZSlSPUNCOGT-e3Sl5N/s320/Flyer+n+Path+FFA.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657016067134348690" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The other center was to commemorate the 100th anniversary of flight and featured the planning, building and flights of a reproduction Flyer. Outside is a wonderful series of statues depicting the first flight. Here is Murphette ready to go with Orville.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUbfb5hJ90Db9ogx2cnAJ0a3eoGBuLyte-RYVaXLsRq9jtyDGhl2ZrHR7h71f_EfEuMTrycvoqf9V8Da6GO5Q-Cy9l6CoO6j2WHRbxHjDxt6Z9dRxquqCkxx0a1GtrdeIaJBht_MCF4t3F/s1600/Murphette+n+Orville.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUbfb5hJ90Db9ogx2cnAJ0a3eoGBuLyte-RYVaXLsRq9jtyDGhl2ZrHR7h71f_EfEuMTrycvoqf9V8Da6GO5Q-Cy9l6CoO6j2WHRbxHjDxt6Z9dRxquqCkxx0a1GtrdeIaJBht_MCF4t3F/s320/Murphette+n+Orville.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657017333444747682" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">On top of one of the tallest of the dunes at Kill Devil Hills they built a monument to flight. But first they had to stabilize shifting sands with plants and grasses. Now the sand dune where the Wrights tested theories with gliders is a solid hill with paved paths leading upward to the summit. I joined the devoted who climbed to stand and marvel at this place.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUn9s-THDuDuKDZF2aWNvvhXVTbEcy2m9v4ILvsZEhAL7ZoFf6BpLfPSpqsOVOzEd5UvcDe3G8U5LLNrCZoQpMc4vLg2DXKUz6L7YM_WJgb9DrtxEEkbqAEtwuVvge3lK2-2DXBqiK0d53/s1600/Joyce+n+Obilisk.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUn9s-THDuDuKDZF2aWNvvhXVTbEcy2m9v4ILvsZEhAL7ZoFf6BpLfPSpqsOVOzEd5UvcDe3G8U5LLNrCZoQpMc4vLg2DXKUz6L7YM_WJgb9DrtxEEkbqAEtwuVvge3lK2-2DXBqiK0d53/s320/Joyce+n+Obilisk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657015438273489698" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">With weather not conducive to flight, I settled in for the night. At dawn the joggers arrived, their silhouettes black against the monument as they jogged past then down the path from the summit. To them merely a challenging run..did they not sense the majesty of where they trod?<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-vzuTxwiCn9bGiWx8_U2Y2k-wM7JIPKJOCqrfpatLrN-FliHpGkDVWTGyF5b8sWO88q7DTcJTwWDySirpKFdlwGR4IXt74yOM2fTmdvIRphwy4tdH35-YiOMEncNAJ-lY5WYMWN5lFnic/s1600/At+dawn+they+came.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-vzuTxwiCn9bGiWx8_U2Y2k-wM7JIPKJOCqrfpatLrN-FliHpGkDVWTGyF5b8sWO88q7DTcJTwWDySirpKFdlwGR4IXt74yOM2fTmdvIRphwy4tdH35-YiOMEncNAJ-lY5WYMWN5lFnic/s320/At+dawn+they+came.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657016168455644514" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">To my pilot friends, I say – make the pilgrimage. To those who travel on land – come and learn what makes flyers so devoted to aviation.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl7X5NuA7OMOBbMqfQwXGOrp2npwfo2sAJytaYnwZ3wmrLJktu4sotzX6__4-4x6i0u0xKrV8PeTyRwm-biUBS0TB4Q3dDNrmc0HoKnPAMllZwANwOlZZ6sqZS0TOy9s4_nZAivZHznMNI/s1600/FFA+from+20.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl7X5NuA7OMOBbMqfQwXGOrp2npwfo2sAJytaYnwZ3wmrLJktu4sotzX6__4-4x6i0u0xKrV8PeTyRwm-biUBS0TB4Q3dDNrmc0HoKnPAMllZwANwOlZZ6sqZS0TOy9s4_nZAivZHznMNI/s320/FFA+from+20.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657014832092203890" border="0" /></a>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-42127961636058304092011-09-24T18:15:00.000-07:002011-09-24T18:29:08.800-07:00The Alamo<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">While here in Virginia, I'm visiting with my niece and her 6-month-old twins. Also getting reaquainted with my grand nephew who just turned seven. So, since there are no exciting adventures to report will take this opportunity to fill in earlier events.<br /><br />September 12th.<br />With visions of heroes bravely defending I walked through the busy streets of downtown San Antonio seeking The Alamo. Downtown? Surrounded and dwarfed by modern structures – there it was. A stone structure with the familiar shape, but so small. It seemed not quite right that a place with so large a place in history, should stand dwarfed and unimposing.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXTaC5YbpFwDK63PsrtaQNbmg8lJeUCM2SYJ-ESjucV-pUonre9AeWDpzQbA5gBSzPliHtlymGtfCNRlxn7Z24P5siEYq-unNLlSTCHDgk7w6a1XXvJ6pXUT7uzcWzSyQsCguWGBn0zK26/s1600/Alamo+with+Barracks.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXTaC5YbpFwDK63PsrtaQNbmg8lJeUCM2SYJ-ESjucV-pUonre9AeWDpzQbA5gBSzPliHtlymGtfCNRlxn7Z24P5siEYq-unNLlSTCHDgk7w6a1XXvJ6pXUT7uzcWzSyQsCguWGBn0zK26/s320/Alamo+with+Barracks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656100732878899106" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">But as I stood there across a small plaza the import of what happened here pushed the modern city aside and I saw - THE Alamo.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc88A2Yo76wvMWoOD1bLFho16PbA5C-XQ78rbKzYyahZgF5y78LVAY28G1GeVZ1527ShPb0E2Ov9OitOrwEZzk6vChZKLVfwZVBafa2EYlG0m7gYlqjSVDoNMBwGhtc8VjE4Z8WKe6rOg6/s1600/The+Alamo.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc88A2Yo76wvMWoOD1bLFho16PbA5C-XQ78rbKzYyahZgF5y78LVAY28G1GeVZ1527ShPb0E2Ov9OitOrwEZzk6vChZKLVfwZVBafa2EYlG0m7gYlqjSVDoNMBwGhtc8VjE4Z8WKe6rOg6/s320/The+Alamo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656100588156324498" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">There is no charge to tour any part of the Alamo and surrounding structures such as the barracks. There are many artifacts, and a lot of history all presented with as much information as you wish to take in.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0RgV3Z04LS_x9xAtlsJyDi9ZTTkgB3YBuG0r4us5KX_kroFjsFir3jVJZve1awDbMONfq-YkNavguz8kD-y6D0npoPGwd3vo_KvgguqQiMfBffspuWEW2EjmsCZug7OCQ3KGPua8YkjLw/s1600/alamo+keys.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0RgV3Z04LS_x9xAtlsJyDi9ZTTkgB3YBuG0r4us5KX_kroFjsFir3jVJZve1awDbMONfq-YkNavguz8kD-y6D0npoPGwd3vo_KvgguqQiMfBffspuWEW2EjmsCZug7OCQ3KGPua8YkjLw/s320/alamo+keys.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656100918429994962" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHEpqfrcw_xrIO3PjAQkPDbjR39niOUXSEFQorNvC_4tyRnyrAGuTNV3S5mn5V0E1QQxtd1b5sn2X0qyxBn7y-Q0TiAukv6eLLnV4F1QartYGfhyH4rzAiUvLI6uJEGZsDBIlDx7IOT3U/s1600/DSCF0223.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHEpqfrcw_xrIO3PjAQkPDbjR39niOUXSEFQorNvC_4tyRnyrAGuTNV3S5mn5V0E1QQxtd1b5sn2X0qyxBn7y-Q0TiAukv6eLLnV4F1QartYGfhyH4rzAiUvLI6uJEGZsDBIlDx7IOT3U/s320/DSCF0223.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656101500800154850" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvxS2V-eT0LYYj0Z-ohZykbpuyZBSO0bH2IpZvS019rwfjGMN-JQB6q2AJoRCccnQ-a6jFgimA6C1iINtaiA7sLaaq8XVSsQEFKNSgPNSFTbDqb1WRyl4HclPf3_f6JOZE019YfssdJU8/s1600/Joyce+at+Barracks.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvxS2V-eT0LYYj0Z-ohZykbpuyZBSO0bH2IpZvS019rwfjGMN-JQB6q2AJoRCccnQ-a6jFgimA6C1iINtaiA7sLaaq8XVSsQEFKNSgPNSFTbDqb1WRyl4HclPf3_f6JOZE019YfssdJU8/s320/Joyce+at+Barracks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656101746058615154" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Another attraction in San Antonio is Riverwalk. A place that feels much like Venice, complete with river boats that while not gondolas, at least provide a similar experience. My friend and I stopped along the river to relax with ice cream while listening to a pan pipe group from South America.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjduySHDtRXXE98Bm_mE_dVhHGBZOw8-f5V9r8pC4rWTuWBGwUyTiaxDDkw-oBCXGf0XiEGjr_CtLkoc03NQysHll0hSdiWk3atl8gF9pH20Y_jjfKXSQNDEcB0Tpds0KHB-y3fHeeyourd/s1600/Riverwalk+posts.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjduySHDtRXXE98Bm_mE_dVhHGBZOw8-f5V9r8pC4rWTuWBGwUyTiaxDDkw-oBCXGf0XiEGjr_CtLkoc03NQysHll0hSdiWk3atl8gF9pH20Y_jjfKXSQNDEcB0Tpds0KHB-y3fHeeyourd/s320/Riverwalk+posts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656102632013818402" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I must mention also the Menger Hotel, a beautiful old building a bit changed from its original look when it opened in 1859. Visited by presidents, movie stars and other dignitaries and long the most popular overnight spot in Texas. It also claims to be “the most haunted hotel in Texas” with 32 entities wandering about.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOfQN2ulAYchBvL9gvIX0wiavx3EN0KBsvXy2wgK1a0fqiBejWVAL02N7nd5hQ9rZ13tD90vYHlwUpeaOkClgqe0gakpIyY7ssoUJC7aYh4csppf-WPBIC9cYsWLQmk0culxhPjK8Ubmo/s1600/DSCF0231.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOfQN2ulAYchBvL9gvIX0wiavx3EN0KBsvXy2wgK1a0fqiBejWVAL02N7nd5hQ9rZ13tD90vYHlwUpeaOkClgqe0gakpIyY7ssoUJC7aYh4csppf-WPBIC9cYsWLQmk0culxhPjK8Ubmo/s320/DSCF0231.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656102969817032146" border="0" /></a>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6750574975790554509.post-21560278119558116302011-09-23T19:07:00.000-07:002011-09-23T19:32:02.875-07:00Two More States<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Thursday Sep 22nd<br />Dodging military Restricted Areas, huge towers, clouds and rain squalls I flew across North Carolina seeking the Atlantic Ocean.<br /><br />I’d left Atlanta the day before, liftoff at 3:15…much later than I liked, due of course, to low clouds. Here is Fulton County Airport on the west side of Atlanta.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGW2pOC0vJfhQHB8zG1kM14PUXD8ZVcdNSTG6Lbk2L3KIoZhghP6PPMfr6i86alkPLMIGCXiLV7Gj0EH1ajNZyx9vN_vA9yXhHWPTcxuo_Wp0aL0yHJx9-hTTzkd6pndyVbeoV4UT0UPPh/s1600/FTY+Fulton+Co.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGW2pOC0vJfhQHB8zG1kM14PUXD8ZVcdNSTG6Lbk2L3KIoZhghP6PPMfr6i86alkPLMIGCXiLV7Gj0EH1ajNZyx9vN_vA9yXhHWPTcxuo_Wp0aL0yHJx9-hTTzkd6pndyVbeoV4UT0UPPh/s320/FTY+Fulton+Co.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655743926975356322" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyVIxwnKZt3pt2cyBGd_9AwWYyg7d77H9Krf0FCfVDoMXi-X7bKx4x_J5PBTMVb8Tp6EwSIpemj3NFi8lqEzBxawC3IsF2fz3z29GVKjmxF13NcHVSDeCGX2qEEH4T-pTdSXj5JZO37ktX/s1600/Atlanta_downtown.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyVIxwnKZt3pt2cyBGd_9AwWYyg7d77H9Krf0FCfVDoMXi-X7bKx4x_J5PBTMVb8Tp6EwSIpemj3NFi8lqEzBxawC3IsF2fz3z29GVKjmxF13NcHVSDeCGX2qEEH4T-pTdSXj5JZO37ktX/s320/Atlanta_downtown.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655747766068507170" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Even though I’d had a lovely long visit with my friends, it was hard to leave them, especially their precious daughter who had begun to call me G-ma Joyce. What an honor. The bear in this picture is “Murphette” named in honor of the couple who gave her to me as a mascot for this trip.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2EClmj7367CxorP2an8gcZTu6hvHFcw2t8q0n_U1vfJ1ik9dRcN0pehXR6AJo0HNJS8juzX9S3S004r2Uyk7lqRd0Oc-l6U8pRfYL87cWNg98WNGHj-y-YJ0bHwHQA36cFWmUA0bNovP/s1600/DSCF0443.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2EClmj7367CxorP2an8gcZTu6hvHFcw2t8q0n_U1vfJ1ik9dRcN0pehXR6AJo0HNJS8juzX9S3S004r2Uyk7lqRd0Oc-l6U8pRfYL87cWNg98WNGHj-y-YJ0bHwHQA36cFWmUA0bNovP/s320/DSCF0443.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655742494121291234" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">10:25 I’m passing Augusta, read about and now seen then over the Savannah river into North Carolina 8th new state on this trip.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhJMjktlG3nEoxMDhA_HMG5MpDeGKhlkb5-OR5ENNex9EFjrSsk7ycpPEMs7FzJcJEtgbcyE4ClcdMWB_Bi0JMTtv-LY7T5gxUP2T7AWP7vnhndgJBXfhtEAKApvLa7p3TC1tLrSTgHG3/s1600/Agusta+GA.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhJMjktlG3nEoxMDhA_HMG5MpDeGKhlkb5-OR5ENNex9EFjrSsk7ycpPEMs7FzJcJEtgbcyE4ClcdMWB_Bi0JMTtv-LY7T5gxUP2T7AWP7vnhndgJBXfhtEAKApvLa7p3TC1tLrSTgHG3/s320/Agusta+GA.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655743182349536258" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYFEuxBycuc3l2gbiQ1LsJyinkdfAAbflhg3F_Nmo-0SFnlihEDu6GL9P3fIiHLDm-uT7uFw6vpBBh8_08iQNBNX_0Lss8Q0rAGNowKsG9fvhbZU0smPTm3rHTq_cOH4ByfPv_yvxLoUm/s1600/Savannah+River.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYFEuxBycuc3l2gbiQ1LsJyinkdfAAbflhg3F_Nmo-0SFnlihEDu6GL9P3fIiHLDm-uT7uFw6vpBBh8_08iQNBNX_0Lss8Q0rAGNowKsG9fvhbZU0smPTm3rHTq_cOH4ByfPv_yvxLoUm/s320/Savannah+River.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655744779300795570" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">5:10 I arrive in Orangeburg, South Carolina and decide to stay the night. With Path tied securely and armed with map and recommendation, I drive into town for dinner and a room. Spent so much time seeking a souvenir keychain for my son who collects them that it is soon too late for a big sit down meal. I spot Chick-fil-a and remember being told that this chain is a “must try” while in the south. Approaching the door I spot ..a cow and remember that cows are the spokespersons for their ads. Tourist, so must ask for a picture<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj167Fpp1jadoNBH2fizZbSJsdNKx6m_pkwlIurViXwpcS0dB8Bh5cFAHsCP6UwMrbUNZqH7tgb6-NvkeLCpXTOzs-dj3Fpnt5Ke3qy2PW6gX9AMuz9JwM-Q24MAZk_Hc8ml-YLtw-u7IwV/s1600/Chick-fil-a+Cow.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj167Fpp1jadoNBH2fizZbSJsdNKx6m_pkwlIurViXwpcS0dB8Bh5cFAHsCP6UwMrbUNZqH7tgb6-NvkeLCpXTOzs-dj3Fpnt5Ke3qy2PW6gX9AMuz9JwM-Q24MAZk_Hc8ml-YLtw-u7IwV/s320/Chick-fil-a+Cow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655743724192827746" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">– the cow is delighted as is his attendant who escorts me inside where I’m introduced to the owner and his wife who are excited to make suggestions as to the ideal choices from the menu. It turns out they are having an “eat breakfast for dinner” event so servers are wearing PJ’s!<br /><br />With a bag of treats in hand I return to my room at The Southern Lodge on St Matthews Rd (I promised the very nice owner to give him a mention as his place was very reasonable, clean and comfortable.) Settled in and ready to eat and relax I enjoy mini chicken biscuits, made with real, not processed, chicken and tiny cinnamon buns which are not overly sweet. Hand squeezed lemonade rounds out my less than standard, but oh so delicious dinner. Then the floor show starts. Huge cracks of thunder drag me out the door where, with other guests, I watch nature’s entertainment for several minutes as lightning streaks and thunder rolls. Sure hope this isn’t over the airport I think, concerned for Path sitting out on the tarmac. But that was just the beginning. Thirty minutes later the rain arrives…and boy howdy! I opened the door again, and stayed inside, as to do otherwise would provide me with a second shower. Rain in buckets – no barrels, blowing in waves. Waterfalls from overflowing eaves, the walkway a river threatening to flow inside onto the carpet. I looked briefly, took a photo, and retreated. Hmmm maybe I shouldn’t have wished Path could have a bath!<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTiAvpZP0xVFRxUk10j-7pLrb9hdp_461Jb4laNVoXRNYGMHqkxiKf5ZtZXh67gS_TeK6nCW0QxjKYX8fCIXW8xcF6Ul8dltBg_wMWkwh7ZoPwb_sd7ojDyb9n1e5GB-cw_61A9Va82bIX/s1600/Orangeburg_rain.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTiAvpZP0xVFRxUk10j-7pLrb9hdp_461Jb4laNVoXRNYGMHqkxiKf5ZtZXh67gS_TeK6nCW0QxjKYX8fCIXW8xcF6Ul8dltBg_wMWkwh7ZoPwb_sd7ojDyb9n1e5GB-cw_61A9Va82bIX/s320/Orangeburg_rain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655744109494556866" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Morning is clearer than I’d expected, so wish I hadn’t elected to sleep in and be lazy. 9:25 when a wet Path lifts off. 25 nm later we’re over the Santee Wildlife Preserve along Lake Marion, with light rain.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4l9gVKFPhmF5fgd7XPaZ8bTx0d4Lok39JpyyTb3Rg9YPdn5Q0kFppjeu0RRs1BLP-aIW5SNFkRanSU2ePY9aMdVnhBW44_ZVnBcxgU1Z4GsI3cK0yH0SEwjp6V_8dGAWczcg6u957Y3N8/s1600/Santee+Wildlife+Refuge_Lk+Marion.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4l9gVKFPhmF5fgd7XPaZ8bTx0d4Lok39JpyyTb3Rg9YPdn5Q0kFppjeu0RRs1BLP-aIW5SNFkRanSU2ePY9aMdVnhBW44_ZVnBcxgU1Z4GsI3cK0yH0SEwjp6V_8dGAWczcg6u957Y3N8/s320/Santee+Wildlife+Refuge_Lk+Marion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655744630402045666" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Which brings us back to the beginning of today’s tale – flying at 1,200, under clouds avoiding things best avoided. I do manage to note that this is lovely country with farms, lots of trees, homes on large lots, lots of brick buildings. At last land gives in to water as I cross the Alligator River<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUbmP6BKG8laMJZA7ElmhoTEACXvYiklfCvHEo6KqqV4DaN9fr-UiV6IRM32xgrNo3B4hxTfDbgT5IJGrUnAnU66kHoRIWDJ5OErhLeuynaudgclQ1CPkY74nU0MUq6MOAg7h74ZpXnGk/s1600/Alligator+River.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUbmP6BKG8laMJZA7ElmhoTEACXvYiklfCvHEo6KqqV4DaN9fr-UiV6IRM32xgrNo3B4hxTfDbgT5IJGrUnAnU66kHoRIWDJ5OErhLeuynaudgclQ1CPkY74nU0MUq6MOAg7h74ZpXnGk/s320/Alligator+River.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655743583724253986" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />Then Albemarle Sound<br /><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yDbC9IaAbojqjmR2Fgm2JNtOs46SWjW5S76Yf2x1FAdB8V2WvTX5N24k8gGFzslcbebdgqubGqWRBwIUAECSb8S9TcfnRu_AFEgmcIHdisv1wQ5trIfWbDCcos1cLGZvpggub-t1zcPi/s1600/Albemarle+Sound.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yDbC9IaAbojqjmR2Fgm2JNtOs46SWjW5S76Yf2x1FAdB8V2WvTX5N24k8gGFzslcbebdgqubGqWRBwIUAECSb8S9TcfnRu_AFEgmcIHdisv1wQ5trIfWbDCcos1cLGZvpggub-t1zcPi/s320/Albemarle+Sound.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655743401165544466" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">And there, just across Roanoke sound, past that little strip of sunlit land, is my goal… Atlantic Ocean and an airport called First Flight.<br /><br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtNfYSb7Y1GiXhf7d3o2bYwPPNgqg0lhwvqM57q3PhcCWC1cpTGpt-46UOJZUFn5AX6z3xAtUAXpbLHkHzSZDAa5QNQfPkbQFRXbOynVvfzaYcQA7dKD_7kFsYvRYK4puRHKos-zTXXOb8/s1600/Roanoke+sound.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtNfYSb7Y1GiXhf7d3o2bYwPPNgqg0lhwvqM57q3PhcCWC1cpTGpt-46UOJZUFn5AX6z3xAtUAXpbLHkHzSZDAa5QNQfPkbQFRXbOynVvfzaYcQA7dKD_7kFsYvRYK4puRHKos-zTXXOb8/s320/Roanoke+sound.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655744541517099378" border="0" /></a>Rustedgrannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12167807045020193957noreply@blogger.com4