Limantour Beach: A Wild World… Pt. Reyes National Seashore

November 10, 2013January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 16 Comments

Shore, sea and Sanderlings meet on Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

A steep ridge runs most of the length of Pt. Reyes National Seashore. The road to Limantour Beach is all business as it climbs up and over. Who needs switchbacks? A sign tells trailers to stay off. Our van Quivera has made the journey several times but always complains. Our friend Ken Lake’s truck laughed at the challenge.

The journey across provides an introduction to most of Pt. Reyes’ ecological zones. Seeing a Kodak moment, I asked Ken to stop up on top. Fog and sun were battling with each over who would rule the day. Grass, brush, trees and canyons joined the drama. I searched the canyon for wildlife to add to my photo. Tule Elk and Black Tail Deer are commonly seen during the day, as are hawks and omnipresent buzzards. Nothing presented itself. All I found was some aging, hair-filled bobcat scat (poop) with a pile of fresh raccoon scat on top. I figured the raccoon was making a statement. I also figured that the scat didn’t need to be part of my photo. (“Good decision,” Peggy adds.)

Pt. Reyes photo along Limantour Road at Pt. Reyes national Seashore by Curtis Mekemson.

Sun and fog were part of the landscape in this photo I took from Limantour Road.

Pt. Reyes Natioanl Seashore photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Looking south from Limantour Road at where the deer and elk roam.

The road down to Limantour Beach is almost as steep as the road up and one section would scare a roller-coaster. Topping the last hill provides a broad view of Drake’s Bay, Limantour Beach and the Limantour Estero. A long narrow spit separates the Bay from the Estero. I suspect the view isn’t tremendously different from what Sir Francis Drake would have found when he sailed into the Bay in 1579, the first European to visit the area. Miwok Indians, who had called the region home for thousands of years, greeted the British explorer/noble/naval hero/pirate.

We parked the truck, crossed a walking bridge over the Limantour Estero, hiked down to the beach and walked north along the shore. Sea gulls, Sanderlings, crab shells, driftwood, animal tracks, sunning buzzards, gentle waves and distant vistas entertained us.

Bags provided for picking up trash on Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore. Photo by Curtis Mekemson

A great idea: The National Park Service provided bags so people could pick up trash as they walked along the beach. Ken immediately grabbed one and we all helped fill it. Note: Ken never lets anyone doubt his team loyalty.

Estero de Limantour at Pt. Reyes National Seashore. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

A bridge provided a view up the Limantour Estero or estuary. Estuaries are where fresh and ocean water mix, creating a rich environment for fish and birds. The Pt. Reyes headlands in the distance offers a great vantage point for whale watching. It is also home to Pt. Reyes’ Elephant Seal population.

I love elephant seals. These magnificent creatures spend the majority of their lives at sea and 90% of that time under water. They travel thousands of miles annually and can dive up to 2000 feet deep. This photo came from a blog I did about the Elephant Seals of Piedras Blancas.

Photo of the Estero de Limantour at Pt. Reyes taken by Curtis Mekemson.

Another view of the Limantour Estero, this one from the spit that separates the Estero from Drake’s Bay.

Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore.

Looking north up Limantour Beach across Drakes Bay. Sir Francis Drake named the area Nova Albion, New England, probably because the sandstone cliffs reminded him of the Cliffs of Dover. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.) The small mounds or sand dunes are created by plant matter.

Looking south on Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

A lone person walks south on Limantour Beach.

Sea gulls on Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Sea gulls tend to walk away when you get near them. I was encouraging these guys to fly. The one nearest appeared ready to leap into action.

Sea gulls in flight on Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

I finally succeeded. I like the way this photo captures the different wing action of gulls in flight.

Sanderlings on Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes national Seashore.

Meanwhile, Peggy was off checking out the seemingly endless flock of Sanderlings. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Flock of flying Sanderlings at Limantour Beach, Pt. Reyes National Seashore.

Who also decided to fly. How do they avoid winging each other? (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Buzzards drying out wings on Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

“Check out the buzzards,” Ken urged. A pair were perched on top of a pine tree drying out their wings from the morning’s fog in preparation for flight.

Buzzards dry wings at Pt. Reyes National Seashore.

Using her telephoto lens Peggy got up close. Note their heads. They are naked so buzzards can dip into dead treats without getting their feathers involved. Isn’t evolution grand? (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Buzzards feathers gor awry on Limantour Beach.

As we approached one got excitable. I think you might say he was having a bad feather day. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Raccoons leave tracks on Limantour Beach, Pt. Reyes National Seashore. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

While animals were hiding out for the day, their tracks were abundant. Here, a family of raccoons made their way back to their home on the spit. Peggy and Leslie followed the tracks to what they decided was their home hidden in the brush.

Crab claw showing teeth on Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore. Photo taken by Curtis Mekemson.

It’s possible that crab was on the menu that night for the raccoons. We found numerous empty shells along the beach. I liked the teeth in this claw.

Empty crab shell found on Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore. Photo taken by Curtis Mekemson.

Empty crab shell. Many other birds and animals join raccoons in feasting on the oceans offerings. I also found a set of fox tracks leading down to the beach.

These tracks represent a virtual freeway into the grass on the spit.

These tracks represent a virtual animal freeway between the sand of the shore and the protective grass and brush of the spit.

Photo by Curtis Mekemson of driftwood on Limantour Beach at Pt. Reyes National Seashore

The grain of the wood exposed by the relentless pounding of the ocean is what attracts me to driftwood. We found a prime example on the upper beach at Limantour. A tree had been driven upside-down into the ground and was showing off its roots. I was curious about whether man or nature had been responsible for the upending.

Close up photo of driftwood on Limantour Beach taken by Curtis Mekemson.

A close up of the driftwood with its marvelous twists and turns plus two peek-a-boo holes.

Photo of spit on Limantour Beach by Curtis Mekemson.

We walked back to the parking lot following a trail along the spit.

Photo of grass on Limantour Spit taken by Curtis Mekemson.

Much of the trail made its way through the thick golden grass that dominates the spit and provides a home for Limantour Beach’s wild world.

NEXT BLOG: It’s off to the historic Pierce Ranch and a search for Pt. Reyes’ magnificent Tule Elk. I’ll conclude today’s blog with a black and white photo of gentle waves lapping up on the Limantour Beach.

Earthquake Swallows Cow… Pt. Reyes National Seashore: Part 1

November 8, 2013January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 19 Comments

Sanderlings take flight at Pt. Reyes National Seashore on Limantour Beach. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Pt. Reyes National Seashore is an American Treasure. In this photo, Sanderlings take flight on Limantour Beach. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Photo of bull elk at Pt. Reyes National Seashore by Curtis Mekemson.

A bull elk is outlined against the sky at the Pierce Ranch.

My legs were not working and I was laughing. I had just completed one of Pt. Reyes’ easiest walks from the park headquarters out to the beach and back via Bear Valley. At the end of the 10 mile round trip, I had gratefully fallen into my car and driven to Bodega Bay. It was 1969 and the pre-Yuppified Inn-at-the-Tides consisted of motel cabins going for $15 as opposed to rooms starting at $200. My legs had gone on strike when I stepped out of the car to register.

I had just completed a year of recruiting for Peace Corps in the Southern United States where exercise had consisted of traveling between airports, motels and college campuses from Texas to Washington DC. Adding injury to insult, I had eaten most of my meals at Southern restaurants serving large helpings of Southern food. Curt had become a little chubby. The legs were not happy. Fortunately, a half-pint of whiskey and a full night’s sleep ended their rebellion. The next morning I returned to my exploration of Pt. Reyes and the beginning of a life-long love affair with the North Coast of California.

Peggy and I returned to the area last week for three days and stayed at Olema Campground in the small town of the same name. It’s always been my campground of choice and has changed little over the decades. Even the restrooms have remained the same. I’ve used the campground as my jump off point for exploring Pt. Reyes, as a writing retreat, and as a campsite for the 500 mile-bike treks and 7 day walking tours I led on the North Coast during the 70s, 80s and 90s.

Photo of Olema Campground next to Pt. Reyes National Seashore by Curtis Mekemson.

One of my favorite campsites at Olema Campground backs up to a small stream and looks out on Pt. Reyes National Seashore. Obviously, we were celebrating Halloween.

Pumpkin carving photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Peggy and I join my Sister Nancy and her husband Jim each year for a pumpkin carving contest. We brought ours to Pt. Reyes. This witch was my entry in the contest.

Peggy’s pumpkin. (She won the contest. Our grandkids voted without knowing who had carved the pumpkins.)

Our friends Ken and Leslie Lake joined us at the campground, arriving just in time to eat lunch in Pt. Reyes Station and to visit the Bovine Bakery and Pt. Reyes Books. The bookstore is a jewel and the bakery has buttermilk scones to die for. They, along with the Station House Café, are required stops on my trips to Pt. Reyes.

Photo of Point Reyes Books and Bovine Bakery in Point Reyes Station by Curtis Mekemson.

Two of my favorite stops at Pt. Reyes Station. For a small, locally owned bookstore, Point Reyes Books has a great selection. And I’ve never met a pastry at the Bovine Bakery I didn’t like. More often than not, people are lined up out the door.

Afterwards we visited the park’s information center in Bear Valley and did a short walk around the Earthquake Trail. The Olema Campground is located a quarter of mile from the park headquarters and the infamous San Andreas Fault. Sitting in camp we could look across the fault at the peripatetic park. It had begun life some 300 miles to the south and is still working its way north. Normally its progress is measured in inches over decades. In 1906 it jumped 20 feet in the earthquake that was responsible for the destruction of San Francisco. Local legend is the earth cracked open, swallowed an Olema cow, and closed, leaving only the tail showing.

Pt. Reyes National Seashore photo by Curtis Mekemson.

A view along the Earthquake Trail. One of the things I like about Pt. Reyes National Seashore is the diversity of environments…

Photo by Curtis Mekemson of how far the San Andreas Fault slipped near Olema, California in 1906.

Leslie and Peggy stand on the San Andreas Fault and demonstrate how far the fault slipped in 1906.

This old black and white photo included by the park service along the Earthquake Trail shows the actual slippage created by the 1906 earthquake. You can see the actual crack in the ground.

And this photo from the Earthquake Trail shows the result of the 1906 earthquake on San Francisco.

And this photo from the Earthquake Trail shows the impact of the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco.

NEXT BLOG: We will visit Limantour Beach and go for a beach walk.

An Explosion that Shook the World… Mt. St. Helens

August 30, 2013January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 4 Comments

Mt. St. Helens in August, 2013. Peggy and I were looking down into the crater from the Johnston Ridge Observatory.

It was in early July 1980 and I was flying north to help plan a hundred-mile fundraising backpack trek in Alaska. The pilot deviated from his route to show us Mt. St. Helens.

It was total devastation, a scene from Dante’s hell.

A month and a half earlier, on May 18, Mt. St. Helens had blown her top, literally. On May 17 the mountain had stood 9677 feet tall; on May 19 it stood at 8,364 feet. The mountain had a history of being the most active volcano in the Cascade range of volcanoes– mountains that dominate the skyline of the northwestern part of the US, and are part of the ring of fire that stretches around the edges of the Pacific Ocean.

This photo on display at the Mount St. Helens National Monument shows the mountain before the explosion.

Another photo at the Monument shows Mt. St. Helen four months after the eruption.

Peggy and I call the area home. In fact I have climbed two of the mountains, Shasta and Lassen, and we see a third, Mt. McLoughlin, every time we drive the 30 miles into town for groceries. Normally we think of the mountains as dormant and a beautiful addition to our region. But all are capable of awakening. And all are capable of spewing disaster.

Weeks before Mt. St. Helens blew up, she had been showing signs of an imminent explosion. Couched between the two major urban areas of Portland and Seattle, the area had become a mecca for tourists, volcanologists and, of course, the media. Worldwide attention was guaranteed.

The explosion, when it came, was much more devastating than had been expected. A huge, lateral blast sent a cloud of dense, super hot steam filled with debris rolling down the mountain at 300 miles per hour and devastating an area of 230 square miles. Next to volcano nothing was left. Starting at about seven miles, thousands of trees were snapped off at their base and laid down pointing outward. Further out, a narrow zone of trees had been left standing but the trees were scorched beyond recovery.

The side of the mountain that was blown away added to the disaster. Crushed rock and melted glacial ice joined with downed trees and rushed into Spirit Lake and down the Toutle River travelling at speeds up to 150 miles per hour. Hummocky deposits between 150 and 620 feet were left behind.

Today, Mt. St. Helens stands as a National Monument to educate people about volcanoes and the recuperative power of nature. Three visitor centers tell the story extremely well. Peggy and I have driven by the area several times and promised ourselves each time that we would visit. Finally, on our trip back from Alaska, we succeeded.

Looking down at the valley floor in front of Mt. St. Helen, the Toutle River carves through debris left behind by the eruption which reaches a depth of over 300 feet in places.

Looking down at the valley floor in front of Mt. St. Helen, the Toutle River carves through debris left behind by the eruption. The debris reaches a depth of over 300 feet in places. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson)

Thousands of trees were literally blown down by the eruption. Many can still be seen today.

This stump shows how the trees were ripped off from their bases by the blast.

Looking northeast (left) from Johnson Ridge, a small sliver of Spirit Lake can be seen at the base of another ridge. Once, it was a beautiful resort area. One of the biggest stories about the explosion was how Harry Truman, an elderly man who owned a lodge at the lake, refused to leave and died when the avalanche buried the lake.

Looking northeast (left) from Johnson Ridge, Spirit Lake can be seen at the base of another ridge. Once, it was a beautiful resort area. One of the biggest stories at the time of the explosion was how Harry Truman, an elderly man who owned a lodge at the lake, refused to leave and died when the avalanche buried the lake.

Looking Northeast from Johnson Ridge, a small sliver of Spirit Lake can be seen at the base of the ridge. Once, it was a beautiful resort area. One of the biggest stories about the explosion was how Harry Truman, an elderly man who owned a lodge at the lake, refused to leave and dyed there.

Jimmy Carter, who was President at the time, flew over the area in a helicopter and described it as a moonscape. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The recuperative power of nature is half the story about Mt. St. Helens 30 years after the explosion. It is said that fireweed, the pinkish red flower here, was said to be growing out of the ash 20 days after the explosion.

The recuperative power of nature is half the story about Mt. St. Helens. It is recorded that fireweed, the pinkish red flower here, was growing out of the ash 20 days after the explosion.

I felt the young tree growing out of a stump at Mt. St. Helens provided the best example of nature on the rebound. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

As we drove off down the ridge into the mist, I couldn’t help but wonder when Mt. St. Helens would choose to explode again. It will happen. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson)

NEXT BLOG: Join me on Monday when I begin my series of posts and photos on Burning Man 2013.

And Then the Bear Had Me by the Head… Scary Bear Stories Part II

August 5, 2013June 19, 2026 / Curt Mekemson / 19 Comments

I took this photo of an Alaska Black Bear last week at the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center. When I was leading backpack trips in Alaska in the 80s, a black bear bit through a sleeping bag into a forrest service ranger's leg. — I took this photo of an Alaska Black Bear two weeks ago at the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center.

At the end of my last blog, I had backpacked 18 miles into Yosemite Valley to resupply the food bears had taken from me.

My intention was to stay in the Valley that night but it was a zoo, absolutely crawling with tourists. So one very tired Curt shouldered his pack and hiked five miles back over the 3000-foot cliffs into Little Yosemite Valley. I nodded off that night listening to backpackers yelling as bears methodically worked their campsites, wondering when my turn would come. It came all too soon.

I woke up to a bear emptying my backpack about five feet away from where I was sleeping. This brings me to another piece of Yosemite bear lore: always leave the pockets of your pack open. If you don’t, the bear will open them for you. It tends to be rather hard on backpacks.

Fortunately, my food was safely hanging from a cable and I had left my pack wide open. I watched with clinical interest as the bear shoved his head into the pack, pulled out an item, dropped it on the ground and then stuck his head back in the pack. By then I had enough and suggested rather loudly that the bear go elsewhere. After one more foray, he did. The only damage I suffered was bear slobber, all over everything. My old Basset Hound, Socrates, the world champion of slobberers, would have been jealous.

The next night I was leaving my camp for an evening walk when I met a bear coming to visit. I bent over and picked up a rock and he took off like a dog. And thus my summer went. By the time I had led two back-to-back hundred-mile trips into Yosemite, I had my fill of bears and they had had their fill of Trekker food. Fortunately, no more of it was mine. I considered myself an expert food hanger and bear chaser.

It was almost my demise.

At the end of the second Trek, my friend Jean, her sister Mary and her husband Tim joined me at Tuolumne Meadows to hike the John Muir Trail. We spent the night at the Tuolumne campground. I had eaten backpacking meals for two weeks so it was time for grilled steaks, a little bourbon and several cans of beer before hitting the trail again.

As the night progressed, I was feeling no pain and had lots of liquid bravery. So it wasn’t surprising when a bear came to visit our neighbors from Iowa, I was prepared to do battle. They had left their cooler out on the picnic table as an open invitation and the bear was leisurely opening it. The Iowans were hiding out in their camper, making nary a peep.

“HEY BEAR,” I yelled as I strode across the road, “GET OUT OF HERE!”

Well, Mr. Bear had found himself a cache of fresh food and wasn’t about to leave. He turned around, stood up on his hind legs, raised his front legs over his head and said “GRRRROWL!” He was one big fellow. Stone cold sobriety was instantaneous.

“OK bear, it’s all yours,” I mumbled as I scurried back across the road to my own camp and safety. “Eat all of the Iowan food you want. Heck, eat the Iowans.”

By this time though, 20 flashlights were shining down on the bear. Campers are packed into Tuolumne Meadows like tenement housing in a barrio and all of the neighbors were wondering if they were next. Thus disturbed, Mr. Bear went grumbling off over the hill, more than a little pissed to have his fine feast disturbed. You could almost make out in his growling, “I’ll be back.”

Of course the Iowans left their cooler out on the table. No way were they budging from their camper. I pictured them driving nonstop back to Des Moines the next day.

Finally things settled down. After another bourbon or two, we crawled into our sleeping bags. Tim and Mary disappeared in the security of their truck and Jean and I crashed on the ground.

Not surprising, there came a time when Jean had to visit the restroom. Beer will do that. Equally unsurprising the bourbon helped me sleep right through her getting up. But I did hear her come back. Except it wasn’t Jean I heard through my alcohol-induced grogginess; it was the bear coming back for revenge.

“GET OUT OF HERE!” I screamed with all of the passion I had used when I had awakened with the bear standing on me. Jean not knowing what to do grabbed me by the head and said, “Curt, it’s all right, it’s only me!” This was undoubtedly the right thing for her to do, except now the bear had me by the head. As you might imagine, my yells increased in volume geometrically.

Picture 20 flashlights shining down on this happy little domestic scene. If Mr. Bear had any thoughts of revisiting our area that night, he gave us wide berth afterwards.

NEXT BLOG: Back to Kodiak and our float plane trip over the island.

A Tall Trees Tale: Shake Down Cruise to the Redwoods… North to Alaska

July 8, 2013January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 15 Comments

Moss covered tree in Redwoods National Park.

When we think of the Redwoods, it is usually about the giant Redwoods. But the Redwoods also have an incredible greenness that is long remembered.

A long trip, especially a long trip where services are few and far between, means you prefer not to have breakdowns along the way. I dutifully took Quivera in to the Ford Dealer and spent the usual obscene amount of money to increase my chances she would behave herself on the way to Alaska. The drive to Alaska isn’t as challenging as it once was (I made my first trip in 1986 over frozen dirt), but it is still challenging.

To further increase our chances of a worry-free trip, Peggy and I– along with our daughter and two grandkids, took Quivera on a shake down cruise to the Redwoods National Park in Northern California, about three hours away. We had introduced our son Tony’s kids to the Big Trees last summer and were eager to have Tasha’s children share the experience.

We dutifully took the kids to see the Big Tree. It is 304 feet tall (92.6 mtrs), 21.6 feet in diameter (6.6 mtrs) and 68 feet (20.7 mtrs) in circumference. The estimated age of the tree is 1500 years. Afterwards, Ethan and Cody along with our next-door neighbor’s son, William, went charging off to look for Ewoks and banana slugs. Star Wars was filmed nearby.

The eight year old Ethan on the left, our nine-year old next door neighbor William, and the five-year old Cody pose in front of the Big Tree in Redwoods National Park.

Looking up at the Big Tree. It is impossible not to feel awe.

A pair of giant trees in Redwoods National Park.

Of course Big Tree is just one out of hundreds of the giants found in Redwoods National Park.

Firn with rain drops in Redwoods National Park.

It had rained just before we started our visit and this fern was still holding rain drops.

A bright yellow Banana Slug makes its way along the forest floor. The Banana Slug, BTW, is the school mascot for the University of California, Santa Cruz.

Another view of how green it is at Redwoods National Park. I told the boys to look out for Ewoks. The boys are avid Star Wars fans. “You know Ewoks are make believe,” the five-year old Cody primly informed me. Darn. I thought they were real.

The light grey clouds against the dark tees provided an interesting view looking up.

I also liked this shot looking up at leaves.

We also camped out on the Pacific Ocean. This is our daughter Natasha. The tracks you see were made by the boys, running back and forth between the ocean and their driftwood forts.

We spent our last night at Harris Beach State Park in Brookings, Oregon

Fog rolls in at Harris State Beach near Brookings, Oregon.

The fog was rolling in when we packed up to leave. Quivera was ready to head north to Alaska.

NEXT BLOG: You’ll meet our traveling companions, Bob and Linda Bray. Bob and I have been hanging out together and causing mischief since the First Grade… a long time ago on a far and distant planet.

Living in 120 Square Feet… North to Alaska in Quivera the Van

July 5, 2013January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 14 Comments

Quivera at Great Basin National Park in Nevada.

Quivera, and her older sister, Xanadu, have travelled two hundred thousand miles exploring North America. This photo was taken at Great Basin National Park.

As I write this blog, Peggy and I are preparing for a trip to Alaska. (Actually, when you read this we will be on our way.) Our itinerary includes driving north through Oregon, Washington, British Columbia and the Yukon Territory to Anchorage and back, a road trip of some 7600 miles that includes the Alaska Highway and travels through some of the world’s more remote and beautiful wilderness settings.

A key part of our preparation is making sure our van, Quivera, is ready to hit the road. She has already been to the doctor and had her check up followed by on a shake down cruise to the Redwoods. (When you return from a trip to the hospital, it’s important to make sure all of your organs are still working.) Next up she gets stuffed– oh, I mean packed. We have lists. Peggy handles the majority of this task. Each and everything has its place and she likes to know where each and everything is. Being the ever forgetful husband, I like her to know where each and everything is.

Our van, Quivera, has her own pad on the upper part of our property in Oregon.

At home in Oregon, Quivera has her own pad on the upper portion of our five acres. The ‘porch’ provides a great place to write. (The yellow lift helps level the van.)

The view from the porch looking down toward our home through the white oaks. I often see the neighborhood fox that lives on our property working the hillside for gophers and other rodents.

Black Tail buck in Southern Oregon just starting to regrow his antlers.

There are other distractions. Black Tail deer stop by frequently to make sure I am working. The buck in front was just starting to regrow his antlers when I took this photo in April.

Peggy loves the van– and that’s a good thing. Having a happy Peggy is very important, especially when you live in a 120 square foot house. I can stand in my office and do dishes. The bathroom and stove are two steps away. The living room, dining room, and bedroom are a distant four steps. (Speaking of Peggy, today, July 5th is her birthday. A proper celebration is required. She is required to make animal noises, which happens to be a family tradition from her side of the family. But more on that later…)

The view from my office toward Peggy’s domain, four steps away. There is plenty of room to work on projects or lie back and read. The area also serves as our dining room and, at night, morphs into a king size bed. The kitchen is on the left, the bathroom on the right.

Looking toward my office from Peggy’s perspective. The passenger chair swivels around and is quite comfortable. Our TV/entertainment center is on the far right.

The kitchen: a two burner stove, the sink, and a refrigerator. What more do you need? (grin)

Our grandsons call our home on wheels a Transformer. They are experts on the subject. For proof, they point out the button that turns the couch into a bed. It’s an innovation Peggy insisted on having and the kids insist on using. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Grandma has placed limits.

Pleasure Way, out of Saskatoon Canada, is the manufacturer of our 22 foot long RV. Twelve years ago we visited the plant and were given a tour by Mrs. Pleasure Way. She also gave us a jar of her homemade jam. The folks in Saskatoon are friendly; they also create a quality product. This is the second RV we have bought from the company.

We called the first van Xanadu and the second one Quivera. Both names reflect our wandering ways. Between the two RVs, we have explored 200,000 miles of North America’s highways and byways. Our total road time includes four years of dedicated travel and nine years of shorter trips.

“How do you live in such small space?” people often ask in wonder.

“You have to like each other, a lot,” I respond with a grin. And it’s true.

But there is much more. For one, wandering around North America is a grand adventure… a glorious road trip that most people only dream about. Our travels have taken us from Fairbanks,Alaska to Key West, Florida and almost everywhere in between. The journey has also enabled us to visit our far-flung kids and grandkids on a regular basis. For a while, before the Coast Guard transferred our son Tony from San Diego to Alaska, we had developed a 2000-mile commute route between southern California and Hendersonville, Tennessee.

Quivera and Eeyore share a moment at Yosemite National Park.

Quivera and horses hang out at Burning Man in the Nevada desert. The challenge at Burning Man is that white Playa dust gets in everything. Months later we are still cleaning it out of the van. Note: The horses have a hitching post. They also share the look that most of us have after seven days..

If things get too tight inside, we have the outdoors. Warm days mean we can spend as much time outside as we do in the van. Even on stormy days, we can amuse ourselves on the porch. Plus there are always bookstores, museums and restaurants to visit.

And it isn’t like we suffer. Quivera comes equipped with a microwave/confection oven, two burner stove, heater, air conditioner, TV and DVD, refrigerator, bathroom, two sinks, two tables, nine storage cabinets, a closet, five drawers, couch, recliner chair and a king size bed. There is even a shower if you are willing to sit on the toilet while you bathe. Peggy and I opt out for campground showers. The van operates off of electricity, battery, generator and propane. Two laptops, a Verizon phone and an Internet connection keep us in touch with the world.

Not all is rosy. Space is at a premium. Stopping to camp means shifting boxes from the back to the front. And there simply isn’t room for everything we want to take. Sacrifices have to be made. Some toys have to be left behind. At least with the advent of Kindles, we no longer have to carry a 100-book library.

NEXT BLOG: A tall tale where we do a shake down cruise to the beautiful Redwood National Forest of Northern California.

Forget Waldo. Where’s the Petroglyph? Three Rivers Petroglyph Site

July 5, 2013January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 5 Comments

Groups of petroglyphs found at Three Rivers Site, New Mexico.

Petroglyphs are often found in the same location. How many can you find in the above photo? My answer is at the bottom of the blog.

When you find one petroglyph, you will almost always find more, frequently on the same rock. There is a general rule of thumb that Peggy and I follow: The more you look, the more you will find. Sometimes the petroglyphs were created at the same time and were tied together. More often, individual glyphs are added over time– in some cases over a period stretching out for a thousand years. Or more. Why waste a good rock?

The search is endlessly fascinating because you never know what’s going to pop up, or where. You may find hastily sketched glyphs for hours and then come on someone’s masterpiece, hidden away in a rock crevice or high up on a cliff.

Today, I am going to finish off my blogs about the Three Rivers Petroglyph site in New Mexico with photos featuring groups of petroglyphs on the same rock or nearby rocks. See how many you can find and let your imagination run wild with what they mean.

Petroglyph grouping at Three Rivers Petroglyph site in southern New Mexico.

There may be even more petroglyphs here than in the first photograph. Check out the rock crevice behind the star. (Can you find the star? grin) I like the trail sneaking off over the rock on the right.

Petroglyph grouping at Thrre Rivers Petroglyph site in New Mexico.

Here’s where interpretation can be fun. From left to right: Is the frog/lizard sticking its tongue out to catch a fly on top of the rock? Then there is the upside down man figure with the feet of a windmill. Next to it is the glow in the dark, Datura yoyo followed by an impressive bear foot, or is it a scared guy with his hair sticking out? And what’s with the turkey foot in the face of the Thunderbird/eagle? Did you catch the bear foot on top of the rock at the right?

Hard to get more jumbled than this. Check out the lizard on the left with the X-ray eyes. Bottom left shows a guy shooting a bow and arrow. I like the Bighorn Sheep climbing the steep mountain.

Cloud, lightning and sun petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph site in New Mexico.

I’ve included this rock art because of the interesting petroglyph in the middle. Think of it as a weather forecast: It’s partly cloudy with a chance of thunder storms. The cloud with lightning is fairly common. But this one has the sun peeking out behind.

Milky Way petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph site in New Mexico.

I’ll conclude with what I am calling a starry, starry night with Van Gogh in mind. At first, I thought river, but the more I looked at it, I decided the little specks were stars and the stream was the Milky Way. Maybe, maybe not– but it seems a fitting image to end this series with. Oh yeah, I’m pretty sure the round object is a UFO.

BTW: I found 15 petroglyphs in the first photo.

NEXT BLOG: The journey to Alaska begins. First up I will introduce you to Quivera the Van– our faithful traveling companion. Question: Could you and a companion live in 120 square feet for four years?

Sheep Cults and Ancient Mazes… The Rock Art of Three Rivers

July 1, 2013January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 14 Comments

Petroglyph maze at Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

Set off by distant mountains, this petroglyph appears to be a maze.

It is fun to speculate on what petroglyphs mean. It can also be frustrating. What was the artist thinking when he created the above glyph? “This will make a nice blanket design.” Or how about, “Here is the path our ancestors followed to get out of the underworld.” Or, “Here’s a fun maze.” Or, “Like wow, that Datura is some serious dope.

The petroglyph is definitely a maze; follow the lines. Beyond this, speculation becomes iffy. The book by Alex Peterson, A Field Guide to Rock Symbols of the Greater Southwest, attempts to interpret the meaning of various petroglyphs. I’ve used him extensively. But Patterson provides a cover-all-contingencies disclaimer in the beginning of his book, “There is no proof that any of these meanings are correct.

For example, join Peggy in checking out the rock art below. It’s obviously an anthropomorph (human-like), given that it standing upright and has a head. The robe has various patterns or symbols on it and a fringe at the bottom. Patterson notes that similar characters appear again and again in rock art, that “they almost certainly represent the costumed principals of the sheep cult and may have been shamans.” Sheep cults and shamans– sounds intriguing, doesn’t it.

Peggy Mekemson checks out a petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph site in southern New Mexico.

We often find petroglyphs carved on difficult to reach places. If it is difficult for us, imagine what it must have been like for the rock artist.

At least Peggy is looking at a human-like figure. So far in my blog, I have featured identifiable subjects including people, animals, birds, reptiles, insects and one splattered frog. Today I am going to present geometric figures. Patterson has interpretations for many of these symbols, but what about the petroglyph featured below? All I can think of is, “Okay, children, today you are going to practice making squares.”

Petroglyph of squares at Three Rivers Petroglyph site in southern New Mexico.

Plans for a subdivision?

One of the most common geometric symbols is the circle. There are circles within circles, crosses in circles, circles made of dots surrounding other circles, etc. Naturally the sun and the moon come to mind. Also ripples on water. Once again, Patterson suggests Datura may be involved. It seems that people have similar visions when they close their eyes while under the influence. Wouldn’t know.

Solid circles surrounded by a circle with dots at Three Rivers Petroglyph site. Possibly influenced by Datura use.

Almost everywhere we looked at Three Rivers Petroglyph site we found circles. Many had outer circles made up of dots.

Petroglyph circle with cross found at Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

A number of the circle also feature crosses of various types. This was one of the more intriguing.

Circle petroglyph with possible sun at Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

I also found this interesting. My first thought is the sun.

Large spiral circle at Three Rivers Petroglyph site in New Mexico.

This is the most impressive circle petroglyph Peggy and I found at Three Rivers. It is actually a spiral. Start at the center and work outward. Which brings me to…

Spiral petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

… this spiral, which led me to think a bout a spiral galaxy. Could the Jornada have been in contact with little green men from outer space. Naw…….

Petroglyph found at Three Rivers petroglyph site in southern New Mexico.

Various interpretations. One is about a four eyed insect standing manlike who is bitten on the testicles by a sidewinder rattlesnake, a fate which would make any guy’s eyes go buggy.

Some of the geometric patterns may be pottery or textile designs. Modern shops through out the South West feature pottery, blankets and other items made by Native Americans featuring similar motifs.

Geometric petroglyph found at Three Rivers Petroglyph site in southern New Mexico.

This repetition of pattern suggests a design that might be used for a blanket.

Geometric petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

Here’s another. This petroglyph might represent a butterfly.

Finally, we have petroglyphs that are almost map-like, featuring lakes, rivers, springs, hills and even farmlands.

Petroglyph found at Three Rivers Petroglyph site in New Mexico.

Who knows? Climb down the ladder to the crops at the bottom? (grin) Could the foot print on the right be saying “Walk this way?”

On of my favorites at Three Rivers. Peterson says the wavy lines represent water but what’s with the square eyes.

Horse petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

This captures it all: a cute horse with extended tail and big feet, Datura driven circles, and a simple pattern of squares. There is even a snake in the grass. Maybe that accounts for the horse’s stance.

NEXT BLOG: I will finish off the series on Three Rivers Petroglyph site with several collages of rock art. Petroglyphs are rarely found alone.

The Slithery Serpents of the Three Rivers Petroglyph Site

June 28, 2013July 10, 2017 / Curt Mekemson / 11 Comments

Rattlesnake petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph Site in southern New Mexico.

I could rave about how this fellows curves follow the rock. In fact I am raving about it. Also check out the serpent hear on this guy and his buzzy tail. Rattlesnake for sure.

Bad snakes have been giving good snakes a bum rap for eons. It all started when the Biblical Eve bit into the apple she had obtained from the proverbial snake in the tree and realized she was naked. It must have been a shocking discovery. Snakes have been pummeled, stomped, cut up, diced, crushed, shot, speared and smashed ever since.

Actually, there is no such thing as a bad snake; there are only snakes that have had a bad childhood and will bite you if you step on them or wake them up when they are sunbathing on their favorite rock or lollygagging in a scummy pond. They don’t really mean to kill you; it’s a waste of good venom. Normally, we are too big to eat.

I’ve had numerous snake encounters over the years from the rainforests of the Amazon and West Africa to the rattlesnake country of the American West. Believe me when I say there is nothing like stepping on a log and having it come alive with the buzz of rattlesnakes. I once set an Olympic record for the standing long jump when that happened. Another time, I almost sat on a rattler when I was going to the bathroom in the woods. I couldn’t poop for days.

The Jornada Mogollon people of the Three Rivers Petroglyph site must have had a special relationship with snakes. There are numerous snake glyphs scattered throughout the area… and these are BIG snakes with BIG heads and jaws. “The better to bite you with my dear.” I suspect the snakes were considered sacred and worshipped, which is what the nearby Navajo and Hopi people did.

These long snakes slithering down the rocks are worthy of an Indiana Jones movie.

Petroglyph snake with large head in Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

In the world of big snake heads, this Three Rivers serpent would be a record holder.

Rattlesnakes weren’t the only poisonous denizens of the desert recorded in the petroglyphs of Three Rivers. There were also spiders and scorpions. On the more benign side of the equation, there were numerous rock art lizards.

Spider petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

I think this large, scary bug is probably a spider.

Scorpion petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

My money would be on a scorpion here. Check out the rounded end of his tail and the two pincher claws up front.

A number of petroglyphs at Three Rivers Petroglyph site in New Mexico.

This is where we found the scorpion. I suspect that his modern-day cousins are lurking in the rocks surrounding him.

Lizards are considered much more benign than snakes, spiders and scorpions. For example, my eight year old grandson Ethan caught several during his recent visit. He was only chomped on a couple of times.

A petroglyph lizard foud at the Three Rivers Petroglyph Site.

Pregnant petroglyph lizard?

Petroglyph lizard at Three Rivers Petroglyph site in southern New Mexico

A well-fed petroglyph lizard?

This frog doesn’t belong here along with the reptiles and bugs but he absolutely had to go somewhere.

Frog petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

Gotta love this guy.

NEXT BLOG: Patterns in the rock. We will look at some of the many geometric patterns found among the petroglyphs and guess at their meaning.

Pretty Weird Stuff… Three Rivers Petroglyph Site

June 26, 2013January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 6 Comments

Butterfly petroglyph at Three Rivers Petroglyph site.

A lot of the rock art at the Three Rivers Petroglyph site is simply fun, such as this butterfly.

Is there a whale among the Three River petroglyphs? How about a ship? Or an octopus? The fish isn’t so strange, nor are the buggy bugs. But how did the ocean life end up in the middle of the Chihuahuan Desert? Maybe I am simply suffering from an overactive imagination brought on by staring at thousands of petroglyphs. I can guarantee I haven’t been imbibing in the Datura used by Shaman to create altered states. That stuff is dangerous. (Actually, it can be deadly.) The residents of Jamestown once fed it to British soldiers in 1676 and knocked them out of commission for 11 days. Afterwards, the plant was named Jimson Weed, after Jamestown.