The Valley of Fire State Park: Part II… The Desert Series

June 11, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 34 Comments

Chuckwallas are commonly found in the Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada and throughout the Mojave Desert.

Chuck, the chuckwalla, was quite curious about why we were wandering around his rock pile.

Meet Chuck. Peggy and I discovered him as we were hiking around in the rocks looking for petroglyphs at the Valley of Fire State Park. I can’t say he was friendly, but he certainly wasn’t scared. Mainly he was curious. I was almost on top of him before he crawled into a shadowy crevice.

Chuckwallas are rather impressive members of the lizard family that can grow up to 16 inches in length. Their primarily vegetarian diet apparently serves them well. (Not that they are above scarfing down an occasional insect.) They are found throughout the deserts of the Southwest. They hide in cracks when being chased and puff up their bodies so whatever is chasing them can’t yank them out. Most predators depart with little more than a bony lizard tail for dinner. The chuckwalla is then free to go on its way and grow a new one.

Having tired of me snapping photos, Chuck heads into a crevice. He is still keeping an eye on me, though.

Having tired of me snapping photos, Chuck heads into a crevice. He is still keeping a curious eye on me, though. Note the loose skin– just waiting to be puffed out.

As I mentioned in my last blog, plants have done a remarkable job of adapting to desert life. Dilly-dallying is not an option when rain falls. Annual desert plants can grow, bloom, and produce seeds in a few short weeks. The seeds then wait a year, or longer, for the next rain to come along. Others, like cacti, slurp up and store enormous amount of water for later use. Some plants have deep roots to gather water and tiny leaves to prevent its loss.

Scene from the Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada.

Desert plants have adapted well to their environment. I really like the touch of green here.

I thought this dead bush spoke to the harsh living conditions found in the desert. I also thought it made a great subject for my camera.

Yucca plants in Valley of Fire State Park. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Yucca plants have a two tier root system. One shoots out laterally from the plant and is designed to capture rain when it falls. The other is a deep tap-root designed to reach water during dry times.

Flowering yucca in the Valley of Fire State Park. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

A close up of the yucca’s flowers.

The primary reason for visiting the Valley of Fire is its magnificent rocks, however. I presented several photos in my last blog. Here are more.

Red and tan sandstone in the Valley of Fire.

The sandstone formations found in the Valley of Fire are close to pure silica. The difference between the tan and red rock is that a small amount of iron has produced a rust-like stain.

Peggy captured this impressive red mountain, which along with the red and tan sandstone rock on front provides another example of iron staining. The famous Red Wall of the Grand Canyon is also an example. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Peggy captured this impressive red mountain, which along with the red and tan sandstone rock in front, provides another example of iron staining. The famous Red Wall of the Grand Canyon is also an example. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

White Dome in Valley of Fire State Park outside of Las Vegas, Nevada.

The White Dome graces the end of the road in the Valley of Fire. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

White Dome and companion peak.

Balanced Rock in the Valley of Fire State Park, Nevada. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Balanced Rock. How does it do it?

The Beehive Rock in Valley of Fire State Park outside of Las Vegas, Nevada.

This rock in the Valley of Fire State Park is appropriately named the Beehive.

A final view of the beauty.

NEXT BLOG: The ancient Native America rock art found in the Valley of Fire State Park.

The Mystery and Beauty of Deserts: The Valley of Fire State Park… Part I

June 8, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 28 Comments

Valley of Fire State Park outside of Las Vegas, Nevada.

Traveling through deserts, you occasionally have the feeling that you can see forever as range after range of mountains disappear into the distance.

Deserts are known for their minimal water, fiery temperatures and vast open spaces. Most people believe they are best seen while travelling at 70 plus miles per hour on a modern freeway with the air conditioning cranked up high. It’s unfortunate.

Deserts can be places of rare beauty. Mountains and rock formations burst into riotous colors at sunrise and sunset. Spring rains bring carpets of wildflowers. Even the open spaces have a unique appeal. At times you feel you can see forever.

Deserts also have a fascinating story to tell. Ancient petroglyphs whisper of human occupation dating back thousands of years. Geology is up front and personal– what you see is what you get. And plants and animals demonstrate the amazing ability of nature to adapt, and even thrive, under extreme conditions.

Over the next three weeks I’ll be blogging about three desert areas that Peggy and I recently visited: the Valley of Fire, Red Rock Canyon and Death Valley. All three are an easy day trip outside of Las Vegas, Nevada and all three are definitely worth a visit. Spring and fall are the best times to go.

First up: Valley of Fire.

Located 58 miles northeast of Las Vegas off of I-15, the Valley of Fire’s main attraction is erosion-carved red sandstone that owes its existence to massive sand dunes that covered the region some 150 million years ago, back when dinosaurs still roamed the earth.

The first ‘tourists’ to visit the area were the Anasazi, who apparently dropped in on a regular basis between 300 BC and 1150 AD. Limited water discouraged permanent settlement but they left behind numerous petroglyphs, which I will feature in another blog.

Hollywood, too, has discovered the Valley of Fire. Portions of several movies have been filmed in the area including Total Recall with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Star Trek Generations, where Captain Kirk fell to his death– until he was reborn as a slightly pudgy spokesperson for Priceline. “Beam me up, Scotty.”

The Valley of Fire is Nevada’s oldest state park. The best way to experience it (beyond going there) is through photos. Enjoy.

Folded and eroded red sandstone welcomes the visitor to the Valley of Fire State Park.

Up close, the sandstone rocks reveal a fascinating world of caves and shapes.

Caves invite exploration. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

What hides inside? Will there be treasure? Or a grumpy Indiana Jones type snake?

It definitely fits my concept of treasure. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

It easy to see faces and creatures in the carved sandstone. Is this a dinosaur from 150 million years ago striving to break free?

There is also an occasional arch that demands to be admired. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Spring rains can bring an amazing display of flowers in the desert. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Spring rains can bring a display of flowers in the desert. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Blooming cactus at Valley of Fire State Park.

I found this and the following cacti blooming outside of the Visitor’s Center. Check out the spines.

Cactus blooming at Valley of the Fire State Park near Las Vegas, Nevada.

A yellow beauty.

Cactus Flower buds at Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada.

The buds are almost as pretty as the flowers.

Next blog: More great scenery from the Valley of Fire State Park.

Area 51: Where Conspiracy Theories about Aliens Breed Like Rabbits

June 4, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 37 Comments

Gate to top secret Area 51 in southern Nevada.

The back gate to Area 51. Do you get the idea they don’t want you trespassing? (Photo taken by Peggy Mekemson)

When Peggy and I were planning our three-week foray into Nevada recently, we decided to include Area 51, that most secret of secret places.

And how secret is it, you ask?

Since we are talking about aliens, let me ask a probing question– or two. Do you believe that UFOs exist? Or even more to the point, have you ever seen one? Consider this: If they do exist and one actually crashed at Roswell, New Mexico, Area 51 is where the US Government would have it stored and tested. That’s how secret the facility is.

For decades, the government even refused to admit it existed. Top-secret clearance might get folks through the first gate, but not necessarily the second. Workers were flown in on Monday and flown home on Friday. They couldn’t tell anybody, not even their spouses, where they had been. No wonder the area became a legendary breeding ground for conspiracy theories about the government hiding things.The government was hiding things.

The U-2 spy plane was tested here, as was its more sophisticated sibling, the A-17, and almost every other secret airplane the US has developed since. When the US captured a Soviet Mig at the height of the Cold War, it was brought to Area 51 to check it capabilities. Top Gun pilots from the navy were brought in to fly against it. Think drones are new? The CIA was experimenting with them here in 1962. And I can’t begin to imagine what we don’t know about.

But what about UFOs, the mysterious flying saucers that seem to appear from time to time. There were several ‘sightings’ in Northern California and Southern Oregon earlier this year. Glowing objects flew across the sky in unison, stopped to hover, and then zipped off at lightning speed. Reports appeared on local TV shows. Flying saucer aficionados will swear they were the real things. Naysayers will argue vehemently that they weren’t. Neither Peggy nor I saw them. Darn.

I did see one once, however. Or at least I can’t think of what else it might have been. I was standing on my porch in Sacramento in 1969. A movement caught my attention and I looked up just in time to see a round, saucer-shaped, grey metallic object disappear into a cloud. As my jaw dropped and my rational mind shouted at me to toss the scotch, the object flew out the cloud in the opposite direction and accelerated away, disappearing in a matter of seconds.

Needless to say, I have been interested in UFOs ever since. Hundreds, if not thousands of other people have had similar experiences including both Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan– not to mention several astronauts.

Area 51 is a mecca for UFO enthusiasts. The big story is that the remains from Roswell are housed here. But frequent sightings of UFOs are also reported in the region. A government explanation is that the experimental planes being tested are what people see. It seems plausible. A plane flying at 60,000 feet while traveling over 2000 MPH is pretty UFO-ish. There have even been correlations made between when the test flights have been held and UFOs spotted.

A good conspiracy theorist will be quick to point out, however, that the correlations have been made for some, but not all of the sightings. She might also argue that when the flights are made is when you would expect to see UFOs. The little green men with big eyes are checking us out. The experimental flights represent some of the world’s top technology, the gateways to space… the final frontier. And do the little green men really want us out among the stars?

A possible reason for not is right next-door– where America carried out the majority of her nuclear bomb testing. Over 100 above ground tests and 800 underground tests were performed between 1951 and 1992 when President Clinton finally shut down the operation. It makes you want to travel through the area with a Geiger counter as well as your binoculars and a camera– the latter to capture UFOs and the former to check out how much radiation your body is absorbing.

Monitoring for radiation downwind from the Nevada Atomic Test Site is serious business– even today, years after the testing was halted. This station is found in Rachel but there are several more scattered throughout the region. Regular reports are issued on how much radiation is found.

And where do I stand on Area 51? Amused. Okay, and I confess curious. The region makes me want to break out theme music from the 1962 Twilight Zone TV series: neenar-neenar, neenar-neenar, and do a UFO dance. Hey it works for rain, right? Maybe I could attract a flying saucer.

I was in the Nevada town of Tonopah doing my research on Area 51 and the Extra Terrestrial Highway when I discovered the tiny community of Rachel and its sole motel: the Little A’le’Inn. Boy did I get excited. Rachel backs up to Area 51. We could stay at the A’le’Inn. I called and made reservations. The next morning, Peggy and I were up early and on the road.

Peggy and I always stay at the Tonopah Station motel in Tonopah. You are invited to roll dice for a free room. I also like the bear.

Peggy and I always stay at the Tonopah Station motel in Tonopah. You are invited to roll dice for a free room. We also like the bear.

Business card for Little A'le'Inn in Rachel Nevada.

Since we were headed for Area 51, we decided it was important to stay where Earthlings were welcome.

Driving the back roads of Nevada is a lonely occupation. Thirty minutes or more can pass between meeting cars. I like it. We headed east out of Tonopah on Highway 6, passed by the Tonopah Test Range and climbed over Warm Springs Summit, which brought us to Highway 375, the Extraterrestrial Highway. The highway received its designation in 1996 when the Nevada Tourism Commission thought it might serve to draw tourists to this remote part of Nevada.

The vast openness and minimal population of the deserts of Southern Nevada make it an ideal location for testing everything from airplanes to rockets.

It isn’t unusual to travel 20-30 minutes along the ET Highway and not meet another car. There is no need to worry about rush hour traffic.

In fact we saw more cattle than we saw cars– and we didn't see many cattle. Open Range, BTW, means no fences and public land. It does not mean Free Range as Cliven Bundy, the Nevada rancher who runs his cattle on BLM land and refuses to pay a grazing fee would have you believe. It's our taxes that pay to feed Bundy's cattle.

In fact we saw more cattle than we saw cars– and we didn’t see many cattle. Open Range means no fences and public land. It does not mean Free Range as Cliven Bundy, the Nevada rancher who runs his cattle on BLM land and refuses to pay grazing fees would have you believe. It’s our taxes that help feed Bundy’s cattle.

BTW: I thought this cow looked a little alien. Hmm. Or is it just a bum steer?

The ET designation definitely caught the attention of Twentieth Century Fox. The media giant used the highway’s renaming as a promotion for its movie, Independence Day, which revolves around an alien invasion of the world, features Area 51 prominently, and came out in 1996. It’s one of Peggy’s favorite movies, which means I see it a lot, every July Fourth to be exact.

Twentieth Century Fox placed this Independence Day movie memorial in front of the Little A’le’Inn. Numerous sci-fi movies, TV series and books about aliens have included Area 51– including Indiana Jones.

Rachel is located about halfway along the 98-mile road. One sticker-covered sign outside of town proclaimed we were on the Extraterrestrial Highway. Another welcomed us to Rachel and announced that the community is made up of humans and possibly aliens. You can’t miss the A’le’Inn. A tow truck carrying a flying saucer is parked out front.

Extraterrestrial Highway sign in Southern Nevada.

So many stickers are posted on the ET Highway sign, it is difficult to read. I figure it’s a toss-up between free advertising and people saying “I was here.”

The welcome sign to Rachel, Nevada.

Tow truck and 'flying saucer' in Rachel, Nevada.

The Little A’le’Inn has a tow truck carrying a broken down ‘flying saucer’ out front. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Advertising sign on the side of the Little A'le'Inn in Rachel, Nevada.

The Little A’le’Inn is not subtle in drawing attention to its Area 51 connection. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Self parking sign.

We walked into the bar/restaurant/motel office. It was crammed full of ET memorabilia and souvenirs. The ceiling of the bar was covered with dollar bills hanging down in rows. An older woman, looking a touch crusty, was perched on a bar stool while a younger woman stood behind the bar. I mentioned we had a reservation. “But do you have a name,” the bar stool occupant demanded. I gave it, our reservation was found in a card box, and the bartender/waitress was directed to show us to our room. She strolled across the restaurant, opened the back door and pointed to a blue and white trailer about 100 yards away.

“Oh, and by the way, you will be sharing the trailer and its bathroom with another family tonight.”

Dollars were stuck above the bar at the Little A’le’Inn. Each one includes names of visitors to the restaurant/motel.

An alien at the Little A'le'Inn in Rachel, Nevada.

The restaurant was filled with souvenirs and memorabilia relating to UFOs and aliens.

A view of our motel ‘room’ from the Little A’le’Inn restaurant. Peggy is standing in front of the trailer.

With some trepidation about who our ‘neighbors’ might be, we drove over to check out our accommodations and unpack. The neighbors weren’t there yet so we did a walk-through. An old style kitchen gave way to a living room with comfortable furniture, bright red curtains and an old, non-working TV. Our small bedroom contained an even smaller bed. We’d have a cozy night. The joint bathroom was next. Two more bedrooms finished off the trailer. Apparently the kitchen and living room were also common property. We’d be one big happy family.

Motel room at Little A'le'Inn in Rachel, Nevada.

Our living room complete with red curtains and a TV that didn’t work.

We had just unpacked when a car drove up to the back door. I soon heard keys rattling but apparently the lock didn’t want to cooperate. I walked over to the door and opened it, and met (drum roll please)… aliens. I kid you not. The Hibberts were from England. And they were delightful. Within 30 minutes we were sitting around the living room, drinking wine and swapping tales.

Roy, Brian, and Lynne Hibbert from Bolton, England.

Roy, Ryan, and Lynne Hibbert from Bolton, England.

Roy travelled the world for the software giant Citrix. On his off time he travelled more but he also delivered medicine in Africa by motorcycle. Lynne was a Sister at a hospital in Bolton, where they lived near Liverpool. I was still getting my head around Lynne being a nun and having a family when she explained that Sisters in English hospitals are what we call nurses in the US. Apparently, she was a jack-of-all-trades, assisting in everything from open-heart surgery to baby delivery. You’d want to keep your operations straight. Their son, Ryan, was a student, presently studying Russian as he prepared for a road trip to Russia. He already spoke French.

“How did you choose this remote corner of the earth to visit?” Peggy asked with a leading question. Peggy’s good at leading questions; she’d make a great detective.

“It was the movie Paul,” Roy explained. “It was filmed here.” We looked blank. “You haven’t seen Paul?” he asked, his voice dripping in disbelief. The family jumped in to enlighten us.

We found the movie a few nights later when we were channel surfing on our TV at the Hilton Grand in Las Vegas. I would describe Paul as an R-rated ET. He’s got the same look, but his language is a lot more colorful than “ET call home.” Besides being peppered with swear words and probing jokes, the movie pokes fun at religion and has references to numerous sci-fi movies ranging from Star Wars, to Men in Black, to Close Encounters. Sci-fi movie buffs must love it. There is even a cameo voice appearance by Steven Spielberg. Peggy and I found the movie quite funny, but we do recommend reviewing it before sharing with children.

Our discussion with the Hibberts continued over dinner at the restaurant. A movie poster signed by Paul and the cast of the film overlooked out table. We learned from our waitress that the movie wasn’t actually filmed on location, much to the dismay of the motel’s owners. A replica of the A’le’Inn was recreated in New Mexico. Roy was even more dismayed. He’d come a long ways to see the original setting.

Poster for the movie Paul hanging on the wall of the A'le'Inn in Rachel, Nevada.

A poster from the movie Paul hung on the wall above us. Cast members had signed the poster, including Paul who proclaimed his love.

We parted from our new friends the next morning. They were headed back to Las Vegas (via Santa Barbara) and we were headed out to the back gate of Area 51. Fortunately, the A’le’Inn had a 25-cent map. There are no marked roads. In fact our GPS didn’t show a road. It did show, however, that we were rapidly approaching somewhere we definitely shouldn’t be. In case there was any doubt, numerous signs at the gate made it abundantly clear: Keep Out. Having satisfied our curiosity we took a few photos and headed back for the Extraterrestrial Highway. We had a final stop to make: the Black Mailbox.

Map showing Rachel, Area 51, and roads. We followed the road next to Rachel that led to the back gate. The main part of Area 51 is located at Groom Lake, located just below the Area 51 name.

Map showing Rachel, Area 51, and roads. We followed the road next to Rachel that led to the back gate. The main part of Area 51 is located at dry Groom Lake, found just below the Area 51 name.

The unmarked, unpaved road into the back Gate of Area 51. Groom Lake is located behind the mountains on the left.

What our GPS showed. According to it, we were off-road heading somewhere we had no business being.

Back gate to Area 51 near Rachel, Nevada.

We slowed down as we approached the back gate to Area 51. I was driving and Peggy was snapping photos. A close up of the gate with its warning signs kicks off this blog.

The Black Mailbox is the only sign you will find marking the front entrance to Area 51. Flying saucer fans claim it is one of the best places in America to see UFOs. They gather around it at night and scan the skies. Actually, the mailbox belongs to a local rancher and is now painted white; or it is if you can see through the graffiti and stickers.

The Black Mailbox noting the entrance to Area 51 on the ET Highway in southern Nevada.

The infamous Black (white) Mailbox with its numerous stickers and graffiti. Its location is shown on the map I posted above.

We were taking photos of the mailbox when a car screeched to a stop across the highway and a guy jumped out. He dashed into the desert. My first thought was, wow, that guy really has to go. But he ran back to his car, jumped in and took off like a hundred mad aliens were on his tail. “What the heck?” we wondered. And then it struck me. He was involved in the sport of geocaching where you find hidden treasures along the road. Apparently it is quite popular on the Extraterrestrial Highway. I took a picture of the area. It was time to leave the lonely desert and head for the bright lights of Las Vegas, where many more treasures are lost than found. But back to my original questions: 1) Do you believe in flying saucers? 2) Have you ever seen one?

Geocache site on the Extraterrestrial Highway.

The man ran past the Joshua Trees and into the desert. I believe a geocache is located to the right of the tree under the white rock.

The Extraterrestrial Highway of Southern Nevada.

I selected this as my last photo of the Extraterrestrial Highway because I love the way it mystically disappears into the distant mountains, appropriately symbolic of the highway and Area 51.

Hawthorne, Nevada: A Small Town with Explosive Potential… Big Time

May 29, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 55 Comments

Bazooka at the Hawthorne Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

The Hawthorne Ordnance Museum is chockfull of military hardware, which I confess to knowing very little about. I can only wander around and stare. I confess, however, that I thought these instructions were something I could follow in an emergency, like when a tank was crawling up our driveway. You want the smaller end in front. Cover your ears.

Small towns come in a variety of flavors– each one unique. And it is my experience that the small towns of Nevada are more unique than most. Maybe it comes from their boom and bust history as old mining towns. Derelict mines and falling down shacks dot the landscape. Certainly their existence on the remote edge of nowhere has an impact, as does their extreme desert climate. Whorehouses perched on the outskirts of many towns provide a unique, Old West twist. Prostitution is still legal. The state is a do your own thing kind of place.

And finally, there is the omnipresent military. Nevada is America’s go to place for testing the latest, most secret military hardware, for training troops, and for practice at blowing things up. Thousands of square miles are devoted to these pursuits. As a child growing up in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, I remember getting up at 5 AM to watch the eastern sky lit up by an atomic blast 50 or so miles north of Las Vegas. It was apocalypse now but we were taught that our ability to destroy the world assured a safe future. No wonder the youth of the 60s and 70s turned to drugs.

Hawthorne, Nevada has a slightly different connection to the military. It’s where old military ordnance goes to die. Some thirty-three hundred cement bunkers spread out from the town across the desert over 147,000 acres. 400 miles of underground railroads connect the various bunkers. If all the munitions decided to blow at once, it would make a very big BOOM.

That’s what happened in 1926 when the Navy’s principal ammunitions depot located in Lake Denmark, New Jersey blew up, wiping out the town and killing 50 people. It was decided that a more remote location was needed for storing munitions. Hawthorne fit the description. The site was officially adopted in 1930. By the 1940s Hawthorne had become known as the “World’s Largest Ammunition Depot,” providing munitions for most of the Allies’ Pacific operations during World War II. In addition to being remote, the site had the advantage of being out of reach to Japanese bombers.

Ammunition bunkers at Hawthorne, Nevada.

This gives an idea of what the bunkers look like and the remote nature of Hawthorne. Note the bunkers behind the buildings looking like burial mounds and stretching off into the distance.

During World War II, most of the munitions used by Allied Forces in the Pacific were stored at Hawthorne. This is an original paper displayed in the museum.

Today the depot boasts the latest technology for disposing of “unserviceable munitions,” which is carried out by a private firm, the Day Zimmerman Hawthorn Corporation. Have you noticed how more and more of America’s military chores are being carried out by private firms? As an aside, way back in the early 1900s, Day Zimmerman invented the machines that put foil on Hershey Chocolate Kisses.

The Hawthorne Ordnance Museum is a must see place if you ever find yourself zipping between Reno and Las Vegas on Highway 95. For one, the museum’s claim to fame is being“the Single Largest Museum Collection of Inert Ordnance, Missiles, Bombs, Rockets and Nuclear Weapons in the World.” For two, it has a great group of friendly and knowledgeable volunteers– more than prepared to talk your ears off. For three, the collection is somewhat eclectic. Like what was the old cash register doing there?

Hawthorne Ordinance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

A front view of the museum. Ordnance, such as this bunker buster in the foreground, is found outside as well as inside.

An antique cash register at the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

This should take you back in time.

Harold Warner was on duty when Peggy and I showed up an hour or so before closing time. We had visited the museum before but Harold was quick to point out that there were some new kids on the block: nuclear missiles that he had gussied up with a paint job. He was quite proud and they looked, um, quite deadly. You did get the inert part, right.

Inert nuclear missile at the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

Harold was quite proud of the paint job on this inert nuclear missile.

A couple of guys from California (looking very militia-like) were wandering around ogling the military hardware. They approached Harold about purchasing automatic weapons. He was quick to tell them that the museum’s collection wasn’t for sell but softened the blow somewhat by suggesting they could probably pick up whatever they wanted by visiting local garage sales.

Harold told us that many of the troops going to Afghanistan did their training in Hawthorne. Considering the stark desert, it made sense. What fascinated me more, however, was that he also said that the locals from the town served as the insurgents for training purposes, sort of the B Team. No thanks, I thought to myself, picturing a platoon of marines chasing me across a nighttime desert as I dodged between bunkers filled with deteriorating bombs.

I like a good adventure, but there are limits.

Visit the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum website or check out it’s Facebook page for more information. Here are a few more photos.

Custer bomb at Hawthorne Ordnance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

Any idea what this is? It’s a cluster bomb– lots of little bombs inside a big bomb. The probably contain enough shrapnel to take out a national forest.

Machine gun at the Hawthorne Ordinance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

Going nose to nose with a machine gun. Note to children: Don’t try this at home.

Bullets and a machine gun at the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum in Hawthorne, Nevada.

Checking out the machine gun from the other end.

Ammunition at the Hawthorne Ordnance Museum in Hawthorne Nevada.

A final photo from the museum.

NEXT BLOG: Drum Roll Please… Peggy and I disappear into the heart of the Nevada desert and Area 51 searching for ET.

The Morris Burner Hotel in Reno… Where Each Room Is a Work of Art

May 18, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 21 Comments

The old Morris Hotel in Reno, Nevada has now been renovated as the Morris Burner Hotel and will provide rooms for Burners on their way to Burning Man in August and people interested in art and the event year round.

The old Morris Hotel in Reno, Nevada has now been renovated as the Morris Burner Hotel and will provide rooms to people on their way to Burning Man in August and people interested in art and the event year round.

I’ve always liked Reno. As far back as I can remember the city has defined itself as the Biggest Little City in the World. It has also been known for its gambling, quick marriages and quicker divorces. My parents were married in the town. For years they teased me about my legitimacy. It probably scarred me for life. But I have the marriage certificate. It looks legit whether I am or not.

I personally became acquainted with Reno when I ran Peace Corp’s public affairs and recruitment program for Northern California and Nevada in the late 60s. The University of Nevada at Reno was one of the campuses where I recruited. I made the trip over the mountains two or three times a year. Those were the days when slot machines were still known as one-armed bandits and the mafia still thrived in Las Vegas– and probably Reno. I did my bit by contributing to the mob and Nevada’s economy but had little luck in persuading young Nevadans to leave the state, much less the country.

Reno is an event-oriented place. The city thrives on antique car shows, rib cook-offs, rodeos, Harley Motorcycle invasions, festivals, and innumerable races including hot air balloons, bicycles, airplanes and kayaks (the Truckee River flows through the middle of the city). Tourism is the lifeblood of the city. Recently, the Chamber of Commerce has added another major event to its things to do list: Burning Man. Each year tens of thousands of Burners pass through Reno on their annual pilgrimage to the Black Rock desert. Apparently they give the local economy a substantial boost.

The influence goes beyond economic to cultural. Reno has a thriving Burner community that brings it enthusiasm for Burning Man back to the city. The most unique contribution, from my perspective, is the Morris Burner Hotel. I read about it recently in Jack Rabbit Speaks, the Burning Man newsletter, and decided that Peggy and I had to add the hotel to our list of stops on our recent three-week journey through Nevada. As you probably know, I am a fan of Burning Man, having gone back regularly since my first visit in 2004. I’ve blogged about my experiences for the past four years. In fact, WordPress gave me its Freshly Pressed designation for my articles on the event.

The 80-year old Morris Hotel in downtown Reno is now the Morris Burner Hotel.

The Morris Burner Hotel, according to its mission statement “is a Burning Man inspired housing facility and community space, dedicated to building community, fostering the arts, and helping to educate people in the Burning Man ethos. It is a place to share, create, participate, and build relationships.” The inspiration behind its creation is Jim Gibson, or Jungle Jim, as he is known in Black Rock City. (Most Burners have nicknames.)

Jim is an engineer who spent over 40 years in the microelectronics business, co-founded three companies, owns three patents, and, in 2007, was named Entrepreneur of the Year for Northern Nevada. In 2008 he retired and went to Burning Man. It changed his life. His purchase and renovation of the Morris Hotel is an example.

The hotel was built in 1931 along Historic Route 40, the Lincoln Highway, that ran through downtown Reno and on across the country. In its heyday, the Morris would have been a proud establishment, but over the years the neighborhood and the hotel had declined. As one of the Burners who worked on the hotel’s renovation noted, “It needed a bath something terrible… it was spine chilling disgusting.” A great introductory video on the hotel by Liz Margerum, photographer and videographer for the Reno Gazette Journal, captures workers wearing gas masks as they removed aged carpets.

Historic neon sign advertising Abby's Bar in Reno, Nevada.

Abby’s Bar is located next to the Morris Burner Hotel and is advertised with this sign of a bygone era when Historic Highway 40 was one of Americas major cross-country roads.

The hotel was still not open when I stopped to visit but I rang the doorbell and was greeted by Alon Vision Bar. Vision is Alon’s Burning Man name, and it fits. A former member of the Israel Navy who holds a degree in Business and Economics, he has a goal of bringing the Burning Man principle of community building home to his war-afflicted land. He is prepared to devote his life to efforts aimed at bringing peace to the Middle East.

Vision, seen here in the lobby of the Morris, greeted me with a smile. Note the “House Rules” on the right. They are pretty much what one would expect to find in a Burning Man establishment.

The “House Rules” at the Morris Burner Hotel. No whining and remember to laugh. I particularly like “Share Your Toys.” Guests at the hotel will be expected to clean their own rooms and help in preparing meals. Sounds like Black Rock City to me.

But for now, Vision is serving as manager of this rather unique hotel. He provided me with a tour of the guest rooms. Each one has a separate theme and has become a project for individual artists. Walls, ceilings, floors and even furniture serve as the ‘canvas.’ Sculptures add to the ambience. Halls, lobby, dining room, and restrooms also serve as space for artistic works. Outside, a large patio is being designed to accommodate performances. The whole hotel is an art work in progress.

Guest room in the Morris Burner Hotel in Reno, Nevada.

Each guest room will have a different art theme. This is the Goddess Room done by artist Carole Ann Ricketts.

Guest room featuring art at Morris Burner Hotel in Reno.

Almost everything is fair game in the rooms for artists as long as safety is taken into consideration. Note the incorporation of the night stand into they painting. And down the rabbit hole we go.

A room at the Morris Burner Hotel in Reno, Nevada.

This frame on the wall may give a new meaning to the ‘dark arts.’

This brightly decorated room at the Morris included a painting of the hotel.

This brightly decorated room at the Morris, the Cuban Gangster Room, included a painting of the hotel.

Enchanted Forest Room at Morris Burner Hotel in Reno, Nevada.

Rooms also incorporate sculpture. This “Enchanted Forest” deer god was created by Heather Lee Jones. It could be straight out of Greek Mythology.

The whole hotel is an art work in progress. This photo is taken from the lobby looking up at the balcony. Art can be seen through the railing. Also note the ceiling.

Burning Man symbol hanging in lobby of Morris Burner Hotel in Reno Nevada.

There is no doubt about the Burning Man connection. This immediately recognizable symbol of “The Man” hangs in the lobby.

The City of Reno is very supportive of Gibson’s renovation of the Morris. The hotel is located in a run down area of 4^th street three blocks from downtown. Its presence is encouraging other businesses to locate nearby and is leading to a gradual transformation of the area. The crime rate is already way down. Peggy and I look forward to the time we can return as guests.

NEXT BLOG: We visit the town of Hawthorne, Nevada, which is where military ordinance goes when it retires. A very interesting museum provides insight into the town’s past. After that it is on to Area 51 and ET…

As this blog goes to press, Peggy and I are off backpacking in the Red Buttes Wilderness, home to bears, cougars, old growth forests and possibly a wolf or two. (Or-7 and his girlfriend are wandering around somewhere in our county.) There have also been several (unsubstantiated) sightings of Bigfoot in the area. We have a camera along. If we see one, you’ll be the first to know. (Grin.) The Red Buttes Wilderness is located on the border of Oregon and California 14 miles from our home.

On a related note, I did a guest blog this week on how I celebrated my 60^th birthday by backpacking over 300 miles from Squaw Valley to Mt. Whitney following the crest of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Check it out here if you are interested.

A Magnificent Mountain and Stunning Waterfalls: Mt. Shasta and Burney Falls

May 14, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 39 Comments

Mt. Shasta is one of the world’s most beautiful mountains. Driving up I-5 through Northern California on a clear day presents this view.

California is jam-packed with world-class natural wonders. One immediately thinks of places like the Redwoods, Yosemite, and Death Valley. But there is ever so much more. Two gems in the northern part of the state are Mt. Shasta and Burney Falls. Our trip into Nevada three weeks ago took Peggy and me past both.

Mt. Shasta has been part of my world for decades. I first became aware of it as a child when my parents followed historic Highway 99 north from our home in the Sierra Nevada foothills to visit with my Dad’s parents in Ashland, Oregon. Over the years since, I’ve made dozens trips up and down Interstate 5. The beauty of the mountain has never ceased to awe me.

Following different roads around the mountain presents different perspectives. This shot is from Highway 97, on the north side. You can clearly see that the mountain is made up of more than one volcano.

This photo is taken from a rest stop on I-5 west of Mt. Shasta

And finally, I took this picture south of the mountain on Highway 89.

The 14,162-foot volcanic peak dominates California’s more remote far north and, along with Mt. Lassen, serves as the southern anchor to the series of volcanoes that make up the Cascade Mountains of the Northwest.

In 1980, I was honored to climb Shasta with Orvis Agee, possibly the oldest man to ever climb the mountain. In 1974, the 71-year-old Orvis had persuaded me that he could handle a hundred mile backpack trip I was planning by informing me he had climbed Mt. Shasta three times the previous year. He made his last ascent up the mountain in 1988 at 85. It marked his 30th trip to the top. Two years later, in 1990, he did a 60-mile journey through the Granite Chief and Desolation Wildernesses west of Lake Tahoe with Peggy, me and other friends. He was still going strong at 87.

“Not bad for a guy who is just a bunch of bones held together by rubber bands,” Orvis told Jenny Coyle when she interviewed him for her book on Mt. Shasta.

Not surprisingly, Mt. Shasta plays a prominent role in the mythology of Native Americans who have lived in the area for thousands of years. On a somewhat stranger note, it is supposedly the home away from home of Lemurians who are said to live in a cave complex beneath the mountain and are occasionally seen walking on the surface. Lemuria was an Asian equivalent of Atlantis in that it too was considered a cradle of civilization that sank beneath the ocean. I don’t have a clue as to why the Lemurians chose to live on Shasta. And no, I haven’t seen any.

Located on California’s Highway 89, Burney Falls are even more remote than Mt. Shasta. Peggy and I had driven by the location several times but never stopped. If you are anywhere near, don’t make the same mistake. Our niece, Christina Dallen, had stopped by the falls after visiting with us and posted a photo on Facebook. It inspired us.

“Bully!” Theodore Roosevelt was said to utter when he saw the falls and declared them the eighth wonder of the world. They were declared a National Landmark in 1984. The following photos provide a glimpse as to why.

Burney Falls in Northern California. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Burney Falls are located at McArthur-Burney State Park. Note how the falls originate out of various layers of rock as well as flowing over the top.

Here, the falls roar over the top.

Ponderosa Pine tree and Burney Falls in Northern California.

A lone Ponderosa Pine grows between the two channels.

Water comes out from layers of rocks as well as over the top at Burney Falls.

The water shooting out from the rocks provides an almost etherial quality to the falls.

Burney Falls Northern California photo by Peggy Mekemson.

A close-up of the water emerging from the rocks. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Photo by Peggy Mekemson of Burney Falls in Northern California.

Peggy captured the braided quality of the falls on the right. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Water from Burney Falls crashes into the river.

A final shot catching the water crashing into the river.

NEXT BLOG: What if you could hire a different talented artist to paint each room of your house? The results would be fascinating. That is exactly what is happening at a hotel in Reno that takes its inspiration from Burning Man. I visit the hotel in my next blog.

Painted Rocks Petroglyph Site of Southern Arizona… Nice Doggy

April 14, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 23 Comments

Petroglyph at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in Southern Arizona. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

My sister had a Jack Terrier named Jack that looked a lot like this petroglyph, except for floppy ears. And this is how I was greeted when I visited. Bounce, bounce, bounce. I like to speculate that ancient Native American artists created petroglyphs just for fun on occasion. This might be a candidate.

Anyone who wanders the Southwest and comes across petroglyphs wonders about their origins and what they mean. Some seem so clear: a mountain sheep, a man on a horse, a rattlesnake, a coyote, a hand. While others are more remote: wiggly lines, alien looking figures, concentric circles, and galaxy-like spirals for example.

Petroglyph of a hand found at Painted Rocks Petroglyph Site in southern Arizona.

No question about this petroglyph of a hand.

Scorpion petroglyph found at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in southern Arizona.

Or this scorpion with its stinger, a common bane of the Southwest.

Chain petroglyph from Painted Rocks Petroglyph Site in southern Arizona.

But what does this chain represent? My first thought: it was the path of a beetle that had sipped too much tequila. The information plaque told me that the more abstract designs represented the archaic cultures which would make this petroglyph over 2000 years old! (This certainly impressed me but one of my followers from Australia reminded me that Australian aboriginal rock art dates back 50,000 years.)

The grid on this rock is another example of archaic petroglyphs. There is some suggestion that the grid represents a rough map and the dots represent where people lived.

Experts say we can’t be sure about the meaning of petroglyphs. Some were created thousands of years ago and even the more recent can be several hundred years old. Since there were no written languages among the southwestern cultures of the time, we are left to speculate. Descendants of the ancient peoples provide our best clues. The Hopi, Navajo and other natives of the Southwest look backwards in time from their unique cultural perspectives and provide insights.

Certainly some petroglyphs have spiritual significance. Shamans would take drug-enhanced journeys into other worlds to learn the secrets of nature and gain control over natural elements. Some petroglyphs reflect these journeys and show the beings encountered along the way. (Either that or little green men were frequent visitors.) Shamans of the Huichol culture in western Mexico follow a similar path today.

Huichol work of art representing the journey to gather Peyote. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Peggy and I bought this Huichol yarn art painting several years ago in Mexico. The Huichol are a native people who live in the Sierra Madre Mountains of Mexico and practice a lifestyle similar to that of their ancestors. Their art represents visions their Shamans have on their mystical, peyote induced journeys. This piece represents the tribes annual journey to gather more peyote for more visions.

This sheet, conveniently provided by the Huichol man who sold us art, provides interpretations for some of the figures. The deer, for example, are messengers of the gods. People of the Huichol culture immediately recognize them as such whenever they are included in a painting. Early Christian artists provided similar types of symbolism for their non-reading flocks. We can assume that the rock art of the Southwest was also highly symbolic.

Peggy and I photographed this petroglyph I call carrot top in Dinosaur National Monument. It is very likely it represents a shamanistic vision.

Peggy and I photographed this petroglyph I call Carrot Top and his dog in Dinosaur National Monument. It is very likely it represents a shamanistic vision. It would also make a great alien, however. Note the little legs.

Clan names, common animals, and important food sources like corn are common. Some may have even served as maps showing the layout of a village or where to find a spring. And maybe some were created for the sheer joy of creation, pounded out by an early Michelangelo of the desert carving in stone. I am hitting a 9.99 on the speculation meter here, but I like to think the artist that created the dog/coyote (or possibly horse) featured at the beginning of the post was having fun.

Man on horse petroglyph from Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in Southern Arizona.

Petroglyphs are difficult to date but one thing is for sure: if you find a man riding a horse, it had to take place after Spaniards first introduced modern horses to North America in the 1500s.

Petroglyph of mountain sheep found at Painted Rocks Petroglyph Site in southern Arizona.

Big Horn sheep were common in the early Southwest, so it isn’t surprising that petroglyphs representing Big Horns are found at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site and at most other sites we have visited.

Big Horn Sheep photo by Curtis Mekemson.

I caught this family of wild Big Horn Sheep grazing in a public park near Hoover Dam. I considered the Jack Rabbit a bonus. Obviously, I was not their major concern.

The belly on this Big Horn Sheep suggests to me that this was one pregnant lady.

Elk petroglyphs in Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in Southern Arizona.

I thought these were deer at first but their large horns may suggest they are elk.

Petroglyph of a lizard found at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in Southern Arizona.

Another common petroglyph found throughout the Southwest is that of the lizard.

Tortoise petroglyph at Painted Rocks Petroglyph Site.

I am going with tortoise on this one. It’s another petroglyph that makes me smile.

This petroglyph of a dog looks even more like Jack. He has floppy ears and is barking. (grin) So I'll end the post here.

This petroglyph of a dog/coyote/horse looks even more like Jack. He has floppy ears and is barking. (grin) So I’ll end the post here.

NEXT BLOGS: Peggy and I are heading out tomorrow for the remote corners of Nevada where there may or may not be Internet service. I’ll be gathering material for some fun blogs plus I want to finish up the last details on my book. So, I’ve decided to put my blog activities on hold for three weeks. See you all at the beginning of May with stories on the ET Highway, Area 51, Ghost Towns, and more! Plus I’ll be back checking in on your fun and interesting posts. –Curt

Painted Rock Petroglyph Site… Voices from the Ancient Past: Part I

April 11, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 24 Comments

The rocks at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in Southern Arizona are covered with petroglyphs as shown in this photo with Peggy.

The rocks at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in Southern Arizona are covered with hundreds of petroglyphs, as shown in this photo with Peggy. Some my be several thousand years old.

Peggy and I had just been through one of those checkpoints that make Arizona so endearing to visitors: armed men with guns and dogs and x-ray machines had slowed us to a crawl as men stared, dogs sniffed and x-rays probed. It was for our own good. Yeah, right.

Having survived yet another checkpoint on our way to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, I stepped on the gas and almost missed it. A small brown BLM sign on Interstate 8 announced we were passing the Painted Rock Petroglyph Site. At 70 plus miles per hour all that registered in my mind was petroglyph. “Whoa Quivera,” I said to our van who has little humor about stopping quickly at 20, much less 70.

Peggy and I are big petroglyph fans, having visited and blogged about several sites in the Southwestern US. This one was new to us– and now it was fading into the distance. America’s freeway system has little forgiveness for missed turns. Should we go on? No, the answer came easily. We decided that Organ Pipe could wait.

We soon found a place to turn around. After driving a few miles off the freeway, we arrived at the site. And were greeted by a large pile of rocks, flat ground, and a lonely saguaro. So much for this detour I thought– until Peggy pointed out that the rocks were covered from top to bottom with petroglyphs. A command decision was made. We would spend the night at the BLM campground.

We arrived at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in southern Arizona and found a large pile of volcanic rocks stacked up on the flat desert floor. Only when we got closer did we realize that the rocks were covered with Petroglyphs.

The closer we got to the rocks, the more petroglyphs we could see.

Rock covered with petroglyphs at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in southern Arizona.

Some, such as this rock Peggy is standing next to, were totally covered. Internet sites claim there are around 900 petroglyphs at Painted Rock. I would argue there must be more judging from this rock.

A sign nearby informed us that Native Americans had occupied the region for over 9000 years. (How much more native can you get?) Hunting and gathering peoples had lived in the area from approximately 7500 BC up until around 1 AD. A group, known as the Hohokam, had come afterwards and occupied the region up until the 1400s. Both cultures were represented by petroglyphs found at the site. We could almost hear their voices from the ancient past whispering to us.

Staying over night allowed us to capture the petroglyphs in different light.

In my next blog I’ll feature individual petroglyphs and discuss what we (assume) to know about their meanings. Meanwhile, I’ll finish today’s post off with photos of the saguaro cactus that dominated the site.

Saguaro cactus found at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in Southern Arizona.

This saguaro may be a youngster since it had yet to grown any arms. Youngster is relative meaning 50-75 years old. Check out the spines…

Here’s a close up of why snuggling up to a saguaro is a bad idea.

Setting sun outlines Saguaro Cactus at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site in southern Arizona. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

The setting sun outlined the Saguaro.

The American River Parkway: Part 2… Featuring Flowers

February 19, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 28 Comments

California Buckeye found on the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California. Photo by Curtis Mekemson

This beauty found along the American River Parkway in spring is the California Buckeye. Each individual flower is a potential buckeye.

The concept of creating the American River Parkway can be traced back as far as the 1920s, but the actual creation of the park took place in the 1950s, 60s and 70s. Impetus came when land speculators begin buying up the relatively inexpensive land along the river for future development.

Conservation-minded visionaries of the time realized a regional treasure was about to be lost. A prized riparian habitat of great beauty and recreational value to the community of Sacramento would soon give way to bulldozers, for sale signs, and limited public access. Armed with passion and facts, these early environmental leaders were able to persuade the City and County of Sacramento to create the parkway.

And for that, we owe the environmentalists and elected officials a deep vote of gratitude. The American River Parkway is an urban asset that few communities throughout the US, or for that matter around the world, can claim.

The battle to maintain the natural resources of the parkway continues. The balance between recreational use and protection of the riparian habitat is a delicate one. Tough financial times and deep budget cuts led local politicians to insist that the parkway pay more of its maintenance costs. And this, unfortunately, has led to a demand for increased recreational use to pick up the tab, which is threatening the natural environment. Birds, plants and animals don’t contribute to the public till, at least not directly. Nor do they vote.

Although free parks benefit everyone, there is nothing wrong with insisting that people who use the park help pay for its maintenance. And it is healthy that volunteers have stepped in to take up the slack created by fewer park staff. Continued government support is needed as well, however.

The City of Sacramento recently voted to spend $250 million dollars to build a basketball stadium downtown. While it isn’t my purpose to oppose the stadium, it does seem to me if local politicians can find money to support what is basically a private venture that will serve some 700 thousand basketball fans per year, they should be able to find funds to support the community’s greatest asset that serves 5 million people per year. And will continue to– far into the future. Don’t you think?

The American River Parkway is used by people of all ages and persuasions. Below is a photo of Peggy with her dad, John Dallen, on the river. When John and his wife Helen reached their mid-80s, their children– Peggy, Jane Hagedorn, and John Jr.– insisted that they come out and live in Sacramento. John Sr. was not happy leaving his nature walks behind in Florida so I started taking him out to the parkway on Wednesday mornings. He absolutely fell in love with it, and I like to believe that the parkway made his last years much happier. The experience reminded me just how valuable the parkway, and other such natural areas around the world , are to the billions of people who live in urban centers.

John Dallen and his daughter, Peggy Mekemson, on the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California.

John Dallen and Peggy Mekemson on the American River Parkway

Three community-based organizations work exclusively to preserve the American River Parkway and deserve public support. These organizations are:

The Save the American River Association (SARA) was founded in the 1960s to advocate for the American River Parkway. Its mission “is to protect and enhance the wildlife habitat, fishery, and recreational resources of the American River Parkway.”

The American River Parkway Foundation (ARPF) “coordinates programs and works with volunteers to foster environmental stewardship, facilitate volunteer opportunities, as well as fund and implement Parkway projects.”

The American River Natural History Association (ARNHA), “supports educational and interpretive activities in the American River Parkway through operating and funding Effie Yeaw Nature Center, a program that introduces thousands of school children each year to the beauty and diversity of the American River Parkway.”

Each spring, the parkway bursts out in bloom. So my photographs this time will feature flowers of the American River Parkway.

California Buckeye trees along the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Bursting with bloom, these buckeye trees are found at William Pond Park. A close up of the flowers is found above.

Almond tree blossoms along the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Pioneer farmers once raised crops along what is now the parkway. These are blossoms from a remaining almond tree.

Dutchman's Pipe plant on the American River Parkway. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Dutchman’s Pipe is one of my favorite flowers. It obtained its name, so they say, by looking like a Dutchman’s pipe.

Pipevine caterpillar dining on Dutchman Pipevine Plant on the American River Parkway.

Here we have the Pipevine Caterpillar chomping away on a pipevine plant.

Pipevine Swallowtail Butterfly on the American River Parkway

The caterpillar morphs into the Pipevine Swallowtail Butterfly. The pipevine plant is poisonous, which doesn’t harm the caterpillar or the butterfly, but does harm predators that might want to eat them.The distinct marking on the butterfly’s wings translates into an “eat me and die” sign. Other butterflies mimic the wings in hopes of taking advantage of the message..

Opening Jimsonweed flower on the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Speaking of poisonous, this stunning flower belongs to the Jimsonweed plant, which is a member of the nightshade family. It is just opening up in this photo.

Jimsonweed flower on the American River Parkway.

Most people are more familiar with the flower looking like this, which is a perspective made famous by Georgia O’Keeffe. Note the extremely long pistil.

Evening Primrose found near the Effie Yeaw Nature Center on the American River Parkway. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

An Evening Primrose, which I found near the Effie Yeaw Nature Center.

Scotch Broom found on the American River Parkway. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Another yellow beauty, Scotch Broom. This plant was brought over from Scotland because of its beauty. Unfortunately it is a highly invasive plant that replaces native plants. Efforts are underway to eradicate it on the parkway.

Yellow Iris growing on the American River Parkway.

And a yellow iris.

Blue Elderberry flowers along the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Elderberry flowers. The blue fruit of the plant was prized by Native Americans. An elderly woman once tried to entice my father, who was in his late 70s at the time, by making him elderberry wine. He refused to comment on the success of the strategy.

Winter Vetch along the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Another invader, winter vetch was originally brought in from Europe as a forage plant for livestock.

California Poppies and Winter Vetch growing together on the American River Parkway.

A mixed bouquet of California Poppies and Winter Vetch.

Plants don’t have to be flowering to be attractive, as the following photos demonstrate,

Seeding Milk Thistle plant on the American River Parkway. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

This Milk Thistle is in the process of distributing its seeds. Note the insect that seems to fit right in.

Dried Milk Thistle on the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

An older Milk Thistle looking a bit ferocious. I think it would be interesting in a dried flower arrangement.

Dead leaves form a California Buckeye on the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

I found these dead leaves to be rather attractive as well. I believe they were on a buckeye tree.

Cluster of young, wild grapes found on the American River Parkway. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

You can see grapes developing on this wild cousin to domestic grapes.

I conclude this post with a wild rose.

The American River Parkway… Sacramento’s Greatest Treasure: Part 1

February 14, 2014January 24, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 33 Comments

The American River as it flows through William Pond Park on the American River Parkway.

The City and County of Sacramento, with strong urging by local citizen groups, made the decision in the 1960s and 70s to create a corridor along the American River that would protect its natural beauty and create recreation opportunities for the people of Sacramento for generations to come. This photo was taken in William Pond Park looking upriver.

“The American River Parkway is a true treasure in the landscape of Sacramento. The parkway is a 23 mile, 4,600-acre expanse of land, water and nature. Our forefathers were smart in wanting to protect this wonderful resource hence creating a regional park.” American River Parkway Foundation

I was in Sacramento last week and decided to go for a hike on the American River Parkway. It wasn’t my first. If you count the years it was my primary bike route into town, I estimate I’ve been out on the parkway at least 2000 times. Beyond biking, the parkway served as my escape to the woods when I needed a quick break from the city, which was often. So I know a bit about it.

Drought and tight government budgets had taken their toll on the parkway, but it was still beautiful and crowded with visitors. (Some five million people use the parkway annually, which is as many who stop off at the Grand Canyon.)

I wandered along and happily visited my old haunts– first checking out William Pond Park and then hiking across the Harold Richey Memorial Bridge to River Bend Park. I once had a five-mile route that wound through the two parks. This time I kept it to three.

William Pond was the Director of Parks during the 1960s when the parkway was first proposed. This is the pond in William Pond Park. I cal it William Pond Pond.

William Pond was the Director of Sacramento County Parks during the 1960s when the parkway was first proposed. This is the pond in William Pond Park. I call it William Pond Pond.

Reflection pool created by spring rains along the American River Parkway in Sacramento. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

Springtime rains provide more opportunities for reflection shots along the American River Parkway.

Staring into shallow rapids can be a form of meditation. Arising from the nearby Sierra Nevada Mountains, the American River is noted for its pure water.

Cliff swallows nesting under a bridge on the American River Parkway.

I found these baby cliff swallows nesting under the Harold Richey bridge that connects William Pond and River Bend Parks. Note the big mouths and tight fit.

This thumb sized spider lived up on the bridge between the metal railings and competed with the swallows for insects.

This large spider lived up on the bridge between the metal railings and competed with the swallows for insects. It was busily wrapping up its latest catch.

Woodland park on American River Parkway in Sacramento. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

An inviting woodland found in River Bend Park. It always made me think of Robin Hood and Sherwood Forest.

I decided the Parkway would make a good post. Photos weren’t an issue. In fact, I have too many. I’d carried a camera on many of my outings during the 2000’s before Peggy and I took off on our three-year road trip in 2007. Most of the photos on this post are from that time period.

Since I have been out of touch with the parkway for several years, I jumped online to do some research. That’s where I came across the above quote from the American River Parkway Foundation. The Foundation is a good organization, and I was happy to steal its quote, but I got a little hung up over the use of forefathers. Like I know what forefathers are– they are old, really old, like Mayflower old. I think you have to be dead to qualify.

And I was around when much of the parkway was being developed. In 1970 I served as the first Executive Director of Sacramento’s Ecology Information Center. I then went on to co-found the Environmental Council of Sacramento and, along with Bruce Kennedy, create an organization that supported local candidates based on their environmental stands. Each of these organizations provided strong support for the parkway, which put me in regular contact with the ‘forefathers,’ and brings me to the case in point. I may be older than your average John Doe, but I am not Mayflower old, or dead, for that matter.

I am just kidding about the forefather bit, of course, having some fun at the expense of the Foundation. Like I said, they are good kids. They should add foremothers to their list, however. In my next blog, I’ll talk more about the importance of the parkway to Sacramento and about the organizations that support it. But now it’s time to head out to the park.

Numerous hiking trails introduce visitors to the beauty and natural history of the American River Parkway. I took this photo in Effie Yeaw Park.

Valley oaks on the American River Parkway in Sacramento.

The parkway is noted for its magnificent valley oaks. Peggy’s sister and my good friend, Jane Hagedorn, has a grove of oaks named after her in the parkway honoring her efforts in protecting Sacramento’s environment and in promoting the planting of trees throughout the urban area.

Leafy valley oaks on the American River Parkway.

Adding a lush green in summer…

Valley Oak on American River Parkway in winter.

…valley oaks take on a more stark beauty in winter.

Canadian Geese on the American River Parkway.

The area supports abundant wildlife including this family of Canadian Geese.

Mallard ducks on the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California.

A pair of mallard ducks keep an eye on me. I was particularly taken by the male’s yellow slit. I’d say that it is a ‘don’t mess with me’ look.

A brush rabbit pauses in his busy rounds. Rabbits, deer, beaver, coyotes, and a number of other animals call the parkway home. Once, I even came across cougar tracks.

Wasp on American River Parkway. Photo by Curtis Mekemson.

I considered this wasp a photo-op. It is actually on the opposite side of the leaf, outlined by the sun.

NEXT BOG: A continuing look at the parkway with a focus on flowers. The California Poppy below is to serve as an introduction– and to wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day.