The Eyes Stared out of the Rocks at Us… Shamans among the Petroglyphs

March 2, 2020 / Curt Mekemson / 12 Comments

The world of shamans who use mind enhancing drugs to travel into other realms can be scary, as this picture of a petroglyph at the Three Rivers petroglyph site in New Mexico suggests. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Drums were beating in the pitch-black night and people were screaming. It was my first day as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the upcountry town of Gbarnga, Liberia in 1965 and I didn’t have a clue what was going on. All I knew was that the house had no electricity, my flashlight batteries were weak, and there was no kerosene to light a lantern. It was time to circle the wagons. I put the three folding metal chairs that served as my furniture up against the house’s three screen windows so they would come crashing down if anyone tried to break in. And then I laid down on the house’s only other furniture, a moldy mattress, hoping that whatever was outside would stay there.

The next morning, I learned that someone had died the day before. I was right to be frightened. The newly dead among the Kpelle people are dangerous unless they are given a proper going away party. They hang around and do really bad things. A great amount of cane-juice, rum, had been consumed during the night to assure that wouldn’t happen. I had entered a world where offerings were left under giant cottonwoods for the spirit that lived in the tree, the lightning man could make lightning strike people, justice was determined with a red-hot machete, chickens were sacrificed to carry messages to the dead, and Sam, the young man who worked for us, had scars marching up his chest from the teeth of the Bush Devil who had eaten him as a child and spit him up as an adult.

The reason I am relating this story here is because the experience was so different from anything I had ever known (you can read about it in my book, The Bush Devil Ate Sam) that it was very difficult to comprehend. When you begin to explore the petroglyphs, or rock art carvings, that are found throughout the southwestern United States, the experience is similar. You enter a realm that existed from several hundred to several thousands of years ago among the early peoples of North America when there was no written language to explain what they were thinking or doing. At best, we can guess or get hints from modern day Native Americans about the meaning of the rock art.

No one exemplifies the difficulty of comprehending the world of early Americans better than the shaman, a powerful figure who utilized trances and mind enhancing drugs to enter other realms and do battle with monsters that brought sickness, death, hunger and bad weather into our world. It’s a scary, dangerous place. Like Sam’s Bush Devil, the shaman was part doctor, priest, policeman, leader and judge. You didn’t want one as an enemy.

In the Southwest, the shaman’s drug of choice for his or her journeys into other realms was the plant Datura, which you have already met on recent posts of mine. Georgia O’Keeffe liked to paint the flower and I included one on my Valentine’s Day blog. Beside the plant’s beauty, it is a member of the nightshade family and a powerful, dangerous hallucinogen that may cause death (don’t try it at home). One of the characteristics of the drug is that it enlarges your pupils. European women once used one of its cousins to enlarge their pupils and increase their power over men (whoops, I meant appeal). Peggy has naturally large brown eyes. I get it. They named the plant belladonna, which translates beautiful woman.

Both the flowers and the seeds located beneath and to the right of the flower were used by shamans to enable their journeys into other realms.

The enlarged pupils the shamans would have had experienced from consuming datura gave me an insight about the numerous large eyes we found staring at us out of the rocks at the Three Rivers National Recreation Petroglyph site in south-central New Mexico. We visited there in October as part of our Southwest tour. Could it have been that the shamans were watching us, warning us to be on our best behavior? We treaded carefully among the petroglyphs, making sure that we didn’t do any damage to the ancient rock art.

Today’s photographs by Peggy and me will reflect the large eyes and other petroglyphs we found at Three Rivers that might relate to the shamans. Future posts over the next two to three weeks will feature different rock art themes (like snakes, for example) that we found at Three Rivers and other Southwestern sites we visited in October.

I had worked my way over steep terrain on the side of a cliff when I looked up and saw a 15 foot tall petroglyph looking out over the surrounding plains. My thought was that the eyes represented a powerful shaman and served to warn enemies away from the Three Rivers’ petroglyph site. An eagle outlines the lower part of the face and a storm rages beneath the eagle with lightning, thunder, clouds and rain. It’s possible that the lines rising above the clouds are snakes.

What we assumed were shaman eyes made large by datura stared out at us from numerous rocks. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The mouth used a natural part of the rock. I wondered if the lines leading out from the face represented the journey of the shaman.

Note the dots around the eyes in this photo. The literature on petroglyphs suggests that the dots may represent datura.

I could be way off (and probably am), but I thought this petroglyph might represent a very extensive shaman journey emerging from the underworld on the left and traveling on in the right.

This photo shows a shaman bent over eyes. On the right, a road runner captures a snake. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson)

A close up of the shaman that I took. Note his skeletal form and the circle with datura dots between his knee and his elbow.

Shamans take many forms. This one looks a bit devilish.

The horns on this shaman were from a bighorn sheep. Is he waving at you or warning you to stop. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I’d say that this shaman with a huge hand and a minimal body is definitely saying to stop.

A number of faces pecked into the rocks also seemed shaman-like to us. Note this guy’s snake eyes.

I am not sure whether this face was related to a shaman. Maybe it was a selfie. Ear rings dangle from his ears. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Flathead here appears to be a shaman to me. I wonder if the circles represented some type of tattooing.

I couldn’t help but wonder if this guy was sticking his tongue out. Or is that his chin? I did note that all of the faces appeared to be frowning. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I will wrap up today with my all-time favorite petroglyph from Three Rivers. I call him Boo.

NEXT POST: Wednesday’s photo essay (if I get to it since it’s my birthday week) will journey north to Sego Canyon in Utah and some very unworldly (UFO- alien-type) shamans. On Friday it is petroglyph snakes. Lots of them!

New Mexico’s Ghost Ranch and Georgia O’Keeffe

February 28, 2020March 9, 2020 / Curt Mekemson / 15 Comments

“It’s perfectly mad looking country— hills and cliffs and washes too crazy to imagine and thrown up into the air by God and let tumble where they would. It was certainly as spectacular as anything I have ever seen.” Georgia O’Keeffe on Ghost Ranch in 1937

The welcome sign to Ghost Ranch, which is located about 15 miles north of Abiquiu. The cow skull in the middle is based on a painting by Georgia O’Keeffe.

The cow skull is the logo for the ranch.

It was appropriate that we found this skull on one of the cabins.

The connection between Ghost Ranch and Georgia O’Keeffe is a strong one. I suspect that most people who are aware of the area associate it with the artist. But Ghost Ranch has its own history before, during and after Georgia made it her summer escape from the eastern US, New York and her husband. Once upon a very long time ago during the Triassic era (think 200 million years), it was located near the equator and home to a small dinosaur, Coelophysis. Over 1000 have been found on the property. You probably wouldn’t want to encounter one. It stood approximately nine feet tall, was carnivorous, and ran very fast— probably in packs. “If the left one don’t a-get you, the right one will.” (My apologies to Tennessee Ernie Ford and 16 Tons.)

A small museum featuring Coelophysis is found on the ranch.

This rendition of the small dinosaur was shown on the State fossil site. Now imagine a herd of them!

In more modern times, circa 1880, the Archuleta brothers took up residence at the ranch. They were outlaws, cattle rustlers to be more specific. They liked the ranch because it was remote, had water, and was known as “El Rancho de los Brujos,” The Ranch of the Witches. The latter was important because it kept the local folks who were superstitious, i.e. almost everyone, away from their operation. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you regard such things, one of the brothers killed the other in a dispute over gold. A posse showed up and hung the remaining brother and any of the other outlaws who hadn’t skedaddled, adding to the ranch’s dark reputation.

I wondered if this was the cottonwood where the Archuleta gang met their doom.

Jumping forward to 1928, Roy Pfaffle won the ranch in a poker game and his wife, Carol Stanley, a woman who obviously thought ahead, registered the ranch in her name. She also decided to call it Ghost Ranch, given its history. Two years later, waving goodbye to her now ex, she moved to the ranch with high hopes of making a living by establishing a high-end dude ranch for wealthy people. They came, but there wasn’t quite enough income to make ends meet. She sold the property to Arthur Stack in 1935, one of the wealthy guests and an early conservationist. He maintained it as a dude ranch up until 1955 when he donated it to the Presbyterian Church as a retreat center, which it continues to serve as today.

This just about brings us to O’Keeffe, but not quite. In the early to mid-40s some mysterious strangers showed up on weekends using alias names who either wouldn’t or couldn’t talk about what they did or their past. Turns out that among these guests were the likes of Robert Oppenheimer, Enrico Fermi and Niels Bohr, who just happened to be building the world’s first atomic bomb south of the ranch at Los Alamos.

Also of note, Hollywood had discovered Ghost Ranch. Peggy and I found a list of movies that had portions filmed there in the Visitors’ Center. Among them were City Slickers, Young Guns, Wyatt Earp, All the Pretty Horses, Cowboys and Aliens, the 2013 version of the Lone Ranger and the 2016 version of The Magnificent Seven. Do you see a certain trend here? Ride’em cowboy.

This old log cabin seemed perfect to represent the Old West side of Ghost Ranch. Actually it was built for the movie” City Slickers.”

This wagon certainly spoke to Old West character of Ghost Ranch. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Georgia O’Keeffe made her first visit to Ghost Ranch in 1934 and immediately fell in love with its wild beauty. Not so much the fact that it was a dude ranch. She liked to work alone; her art demanded solitude. It wasn’t that she was opposed to having the occasional dude around, but lots of dudes riding horses were counterproductive. None-the-less, she rented a cabin from Stack and when a long-term rental became available due to an illness, she stayed there all summer, beginning a tradition that would last up until she moved into her house in Abiquiu in 1949.

It wasn’t long before she persuaded Arthur Stack to rent her his house, Ranchos de los Burros. It came with more isolation and scenic views. And a great piano. I found a story where O’Keeffe and several friends showed up off-season and found the house locked up tight. They proceeded to break in and spend the evening lying around listening to Ansel Adams knock out tunes on the piano. If I could do time travel, it’s an event that I would travel back to!

Once, when she showed up for her usual summer stay, she found the house occupied and went ballistic. When Stack pointed out that the house didn’t actually belong to her, she insisted on buying it. She was also irritated when Stack gave Ghost Ranch to the Presbyterians rather than selling it to her. The Presbyterians respected her privacy, however, and she eventually developed a good relationship with them.

I’ll start my main photo section today with a painting by Georgia O’Keeffe of her “private mountain,” the Cerro Pedernal. As she said, “It belongs to me. God told me if I painted it enough, I could have it.” So, she painted it over 20 times and requested that her ashes be scattered on the mountain when she died. When I first read about her passion for the mountain, I thought of the post-impressionist French painter Paul Cézanne and his ‘holy mountain,’ Mount Sainte-Victoire, which he could see from his home in Aix and painted some 60 times.

One of 20 some paintings O’Keeffe did of Cerro Pedernal.

Peggy and I decided that since Georgia had painted Cerro Pedernal so many times, we should honor it by taking its photo several times. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

A small wayside just before you reach Ghost Ranch features superb views of the Chinle formation that O’Keeffe loved to paint.

A close up. The Chinle Formation is what gives the Painted Desert its colors and is also located in Petrified Forest National Park. It’s also where the remains of Coelophysis are found.

Georgia O’Keeffe painting of a Chinle Formation at Ghost Ranch.

This is another impressive rock formation we saw on our way to Ghost Ranch.

And now several photos from within Ghost Ranch that fit Georgia’s observation of *“perfectly mad looking country*” that inspired her to paint. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I’ll conclude my final post on Georgia O’Keeffe with one last photo of her ‘mountain’ Cerro Pedernal.

NEXT POST: A journey into the world of shamans and petroglyphs. The start of a new series.

When Elephant Seals Tell Jokes: The Wednesday Photo Essay

February 26, 2020February 24, 2020 / Curt Mekemson / 28 Comments

Did you hear the one about an elephant seal, a Christmas seal, and a basset hound walking into a bar.

A while back Peggy and I were driving north from somewhere, maybe San Diego, when we drove past Hearst Castle and came to Piedras Blancas. It was full of sunbathers, somewhat weight challenged— and nude. Naturally we had to stop and break out our cameras.

But everyone seemed happy. Some were even cuddling up.

Maybe. Few things are more pleasurable that scratching an itch.

Of course it’s kind of hard to beat taking a dirt bath…

Maybe a nice long nap in the sun. Yawn! Catching fish is such hard work.

You know how it is when someone else yawns. Are my tonsils pretty?

Speaking of pretty, here I am. How can anyone resist my dark brown eyes and gorgeous whiskers? Most girls would die to have whiskers like mine.

What do you mean this is a nude beach for elephant seals only! (Do we have trouble in Paradise?)

Like here we are all sleeping and someone starts stretching while challenging us to touch our toes and lecturing us on the value of exercise.

And then there is this lady who is disturbing us all by screaming, and screaming, and screaming…

Like what is her problem? Wait could it be? Is it possible? Is she having a baby? All is forgiven. (Well, possibly the elephant seal she is having a baby on might have a problem.)

But who can resist passing on a good joke. Have you heard the one about an elephant seal, a Christmas seal and a basset hound walking into a bar?

Bye, bye. Thanks for wandering through time and place with Curt and Peggy.

NEXT POSTS: On Friday, we will visit Ghost Ranch in New Mexico to wrap up the Georgia O’Keeffe series. On Monday we will start a new one as we look into the strange eyes of shamans and check out other petroglyphs.

Georgia (O’Keeffe) On My Mind… Again: Her Home in Abiquiu

February 24, 2020February 23, 2020 / Curt Mekemson / 28 Comments

Everything about Georgia O’Keeffe’s home in Abiquiu seems to reflect the artist.

A view of the surrounding scenery from the entrance to Georgia O’Keeffe’s home.

Looking in. Note the ladder against the wall.

Looking up. O’Keeffe would paint many things around her house…

Including the ladder which she loved to climb up to the roof. Here, it is reaching farther up to the moon. The mesa top below it is where Georgia’s ashes are scattered.

Last summer when I was traveling down Highway 395 through Nevada and California, I discovered an excellent exhibit on Georgia O’Keeffe at the Nevada Museum of Art in Reno. It encouraged me to visit the places she had lived in New Mexico as one of the focuses of our Southwest trip last fall. Peggy, who likes O’Keeffe’s art as much as I do, readily agreed. In November, before Peggy and I climbed on Amtrak and made our way east to Virginia, I did two posts on Georgia and her time in Taos. In the first (go here), I featured relevant photos I had taken at the exhibit in Reno and then photos that Peggy and I had taken of the Church of St. Francisco of Asis church in Taos, a church that O’Keeffe had painted and her friend Ansel Adams had photographed. In the second (go here), I featured Mable Dodge Luhan, the famous art patron who persuaded Georgia to visit Taos, and the 1000-year-old Taos Pueblo, which O’Keeffe also painted and Adams photographed.

Today, we are going to visit O’Keeffe’s home in Abiquiu, New Mexico. When she first visited her the place in the mid 30’s, it was an old Spanish-Colonial compound that was basically in ruins. But she fell in love with it, and according to Georgia, a particular door. She had to have it. Acquiring it took ten years, which she did in 1945. It was up to her friend, Maria Chabot, working as the general contractor for four years, to turn it into a home. ”It took six months just to get the pigs out of the house,” Chabot would claim. O’Keeffe lived in the house up until 1984 when ill health forced her to move to Santa Fe where she died in 1986 at the age of 98.

This cat welcomed us to the Georgia O’Keeffe Welcome Center in Abiquiu.

Not so welcoming was this sculpture of a rattlesnake by Joe Spear on loan from the rattlesnake museum in Albuquerque. (I really wanted to go to the museum but we ran out of time.)

Peggy and I signed up for a tour of the home and studio with Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe. It started at the O’Keeffe Welcome Center in Abiquiu and then progressed up to the house. We were allowed to take photos outside but not inside. (I suspect that’s to encourage people to buy the tour instead of just going on-line.) One of the more interesting items inside was a piano that Georgia bought so Ansel Adams could play when he came to visit her. We learned that he had trained as a classical pianist instead of a photographer. The house and surroundings inspired a number of her paintings including the door that had originally attracted her, which she painted some 20 times. Another focus, the cottonwoods growing in the Chama River Valley that her house overlooked, she painted 24 times

One of her 20 paintings of the doors in her patio.

I took a photo of the other door along with one of the picturesque bushes growing in the patio.

Here I found one of the bushes in the sun and the other in the shadow. Peer into the dark and you will see antlers that O’Keeffe loved.

O’Keeffe was known for her paintings of antlers and other bones she found out in the desert. At first her husband and agent, Alfred Stieglitz, objected to her sending bones back to New York to paint. When the paintings started to sell like crazy, he told her to send all the bones she wanted. She sent a barrel full.

I also found this partial mountain sheep skull at Georgia’s.

She also liked to collect rocks and sea shells. They are found throughout her house.

Including on the sill of her living room window. She also found dead wood worthy of painting. I think the piece on the right may have served as a model.

As Georgia O’Keeffe grew older her eye sight started to go and she took up sculpture. Her young handy man had been trained as a potter and taught Georgia how. It was quite the scandal of the time that Juan, who was 58 years younger than Georgia, was also handy in other ways. Georgia left him her two houses and $17 million, which he didn’t keep.

While we could only photograph the sculpture at Georgia’s house from the outside, there was one of her sculptures at the exhibit in Reno that I was able to photograph.

One of the things that O’Keeffe treasured about her home was its garden. Fruits and vegetables are still harvested from it today. These apples are ready to pick! I might have had one had the guide not been watching me. (Grin)

I find the adobe look of southwestern homes like O’Keeffe’s very attractive. Had Peggy and I retired to New Mexico instead of Oregon, we would have had one. The contrasting trees here are a plus.

The surrounding countryside provided inspiration for many of Georgia’s paintings. As I noted earlier these included over two dozen paintings of the cottonwoods that grew along the Chama River below her house. This one of them.. It is quite close to being abstract.

I’ll conclude my post today with a photo a cottonwood near her home.

NEXT POSTS: On Wednesday it’s time for another photographic essay. This time I will post photos of some quite humorous elephant seals Peggy and I found on the beach near Hearst Castle in Southern California. On Friday, I will conclude my Georgia O’Keeffe series with a trip to Ghost Ranch, about 15 miles north of Abiquiu where Georgia also lived and painted.

Ice Carving with the Best In the World: Fairbanks, Ak. 2016

February 21, 2020February 20, 2020 / Curt Mekemson / 37 Comments

The tools of the trade. Each competitor at the BP 2016 World Ice Carving Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska carried a wide variety of tools ranging from chisels to chainsaws.

On Wednesday, I took you for a ride on the Alaska Railroad from Anchorage to Fairbanks. We were on our way to attend the 2016 World Ice Carving Championships.

We were lucky to arrive in Fairbanks to see the carvers at work and then see their finished works of art. They were impressive, to say the least.

The Thailand Team puts the finishing touches on their sculpture for the night’s competition.

The round ball seemed almost magical to me, like I should be able to look into it and see the future. Note the thin, wire-like tool the artist on the left is using to add texture.

It turned out to be a self-playing base fiddle!

I thought the young girl running with a dandelion head was fun. Did you blow on these as a kid to watch the seeds go flying off?

She loves me, she loves me not. Note the question mark held by ice tongs in the center of the heart.

Hold that tiger! Lots of teeth and claws.

Speaking of teeth, the tiger wasn’t alone.

This was one of my favorites because of the detail.

An unfortunate jellyfish has become dinner.

Here’s a figure you don’t want to run into at night. Or during the day.

So, is it a cat? And what is with the chain?

This woman is riding a bucking ostrich. Yeehaw!

My heart goes where the wild goose goes. Indeed.

In addition to the sculptures included in the ice carving contest, the park featured a number of other figures such as the helicopter I showed you on Wednesday and this giant whale.

I also found this sea serpent rather impressive.

I’ll close today with my new log cabin. It’s a bit cold inside. But don’t you think my all black outfit contrasts nicely with the ice? That’s me, a true paragon of fashion. (grin)

NEXT POST: On Monday I will have Georgia on my mind again as I return to O’Keeffe’s home in New Mexico and finish up the series I started before Peggy and I took off across the country on Amtrak.

A Train Trip in Alaska and an Ice Carving Contest… The Wednesday Photo Essay: Part 1

February 19, 2020February 18, 2020 / Curt Mekemson / 33 Comments

Our train trip from Anchorage to Fairbanks took place on a clear day, allowing us to enjoy the beauty of the passing countryside. Even the reflection was stunning. They had an open window between two of the cars that I leaned out of to catch this photo.

There is great beauty in Alaska. I worked there from 1983 to 1986 as the Executive Director of the Alaska Lung Association. One of my jobs had been to lead 100-mile backpack trips as fundraisers to support the organization’s activities. (Not many executive director do that.) In addition to raising money, the treks provided me with an opportunity to explore some of the state’s more remote corners and vast wilderness areas.

In March of 2016, Peggy and I returned to ride the Alaska Railroad from Anchorage with our son Tony and his family to attend the world championship ice carving contest in Fairbanks. Tony was flying helicopters for the Coast Guard out of Kodiak at the time. The train trip reminded me of just how beautiful and wild Alaska is. We were fortunate to travel on a clear day that provided great views, including Mt. Denali. In Fairbanks, it was exciting to watch some of the world’s greatest ice carvers at work and see their completed sculptures. Today’s photo essay will reflect the train trip. On Friday, I will show you the ice carving contest.

Of course not all of our time was spent looking out the window enjoying the scenery. Our grandson Cooper made sure of that as he climbed onto Peggy’s back.

And decided to take a snooze on my head. That can give you a neck cramp! (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Folks live along the railroad and use it for transportation. They can flag the train down whenever they need to go to town. It’s Alaska!

This stream made me long for my kayak. Note how crystal clear the water is.

The snow enhanced the look of trees along the railroad. Or maybe it was the other way around.

I rendered these skinny birch trees in black and white.

Time for another family photo. This is Tony and his boys.

I mentioned that Tony flies helicopters for the Coast Guard. I had to include this photo of him giving his wife, Cammie, a ride in an ice copter. They had a hard time getting off the ground. (Grin)

One thing Alaska has is impressive mountains. Lots of them. And there were dozens of great views on our trip.

The grand-daddy of them all is Mt. Denali, the highest mountain in North America. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

We also saw some impressive canyons along the way. This one had a family of moose making its way through the snow. During heavy snow years, the moose use the railway as a path. Encounters with trains don’t go well, at least for the moose. One of the years I was in Alaska was a particularly bad snow year and a number of moose had been killed. I awoke one morning and discovered that the top headline in the Anchorage Daily News proclaimed “Railroad 50, Moose 1.” Apparently, the train had hit a moose and been derailed.

We thought this canyon was gorgeous with its ice-covered, meandering river making its way around the trees in the top center of the photo.

We flew back to Anchorage after our trip and I snapped this photo of the Alaska Range. I thought it would be an appropriate picture to end today’s blog.

NEXT POST: On Friday I will show you photos of the world championship ice carving contest in Fairbanks. The sculptures were amazing. You won’t want to miss them.

The Devil’s Kitchen at Bandon… What’s for Dinner?

February 17, 2020March 9, 2020 / Curt Mekemson / 43 Comments

I didn’t have a clue what I would find the old boy brewing up at the Devil’s Kitchen in Bandon. But I was expecting something like the Devil’s Churn, which is found farther north up the Oregon Coast.

I figured the Devil had to cook with ghost peppers, and that got me excited. I like my food spicy hot and it doesn’t get much hotter. A tiny bit goes a long, long way, even for me. Lacking that, I thought I might at least find a churning, boiling sea like you find at the Devil’s Churn. Instead, I found a quiet, bucolic scene. Crooked Creek flowed peacefully out to the ocean.

Crooked Creek flowing out to the Pacific Ocean.

But wait a minute, I thought. The Devil is sneaky, right. Maybe Crooked Creek was indeed crooked. Maybe it tricked people into crossing and then sucked them under with quicksand. With this in mind, I went seeking other subtle reminders of the Devil’s presence.

And found this. If ever there was an example of the Devil’s handiwork… Note the smiley, evil face on the left. And then, Gonzo. Next comes an inebriated Santa, followed by a busty Old Mother Hubbard. And finally there is Tex Ritter. You can tell by the cowboy hat. But just who is Tex Ritter? What? Maybe you can’t see any of the above and you’re thinking Mekemson has gone over the edge. Maybe he is possessed.

Backing up, I realized the truth. I was looking at a sand castle made by a kid who obviously needed some counseling. He didn’t even know that the moat was supposed to go on the outside.

And then I saw it, as clear as the day. A hell hound. Look at those flaring nostrils and bulging eyes. I looked again and saw Goofy needing a haircut. Was this yet another example of the Devil being sneaky?

Something had been eating rock! I looked up and saw an evil turtle glaring at me. I was becoming a believer.

Even the driftwood took on a scary countenance. Look at the snout on this fellow and his hollow, haunting eye. I didn’t want to be around when the sun went down.

At first I thought I saw a face here, maybe George Washington in his dotage. Then I realized that something very big had eaten a chunk out of the rock.

People sometimes fall off cliffs. That seems a devilish thing to do. Usually they are standing on the edge taking a selfie of themselves. Don’t they know that selfies are the creation of the Devil? While I feel sorry for these folks who give their all for a fleeting moment of fame, I can’t help but wonder if something Darwinian isn’t involved. Given that this particular cliff was three inches high and the water was two inches deep, there wasn’t much danger, however.

And finally the ultimate proof. Most people think of this as kelp, but actually, it is the Devil’s bull whip!

In the end, even though I had discovered several hints of the Devil’s presence, I decided that the area was just too pretty to be associated with Hell.

Even the rock with the chunk missing looked harmless from the distance.

And this sea stack caught in the afternoon sun was close to beautiful.

I walked back toward my van through the trees…

And found this sign. Turns out there was nothing devilish about Devil’s Kitchen at all.

No longer fearing for my soul, I hung out on the beach to see a final sunset before I left Bandon heading south. I’ll be back.

NEXT POST: The Wednesday Photo Essay. Four years ago in February, Peggy and I went for a ride on the Alaska Railway from Anchorage to Fairbanks with our son Tony and his family. Join us as we check out Mt. Denali and attend a world championship ice carving contest.

I Promised You Flowers from the American River… Today Is the Day!

February 14, 2020February 14, 2020 / Curt Mekemson / 27 Comments

A California poppy. Always beautiful. This was early morning before it had opened up.

The American River flows right through the heart of Sacramento, California and is one of the community’s greatest assets. I spent a lot of time there when I lived and worked in the city. It was where I escaped to when I needed a touch of the wild, which was often. It was a rare week when I didn’t hike of bike there at least once. And there were times when I was there almost every day. Later, when I became interested in photography, I often carried a camera. There were birds and ducks and geese and jackrabbits and cottontails and turkeys and deer and foxes and coyotes and skunks and raccoons and otters and squirrels, and rattlesnakes (on my) to photograph.

And there were flowers. Fields and fields of them. Enjoy. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Scottish broom. It’s a weed plant, so they say. Crowds out the more sensitive natives. But I can sure understand why people wanted to plant it.

Some early pioneer had planted Iris here. He’s long forgotten but his flowers live on. A fitting tribute.

Pioneers left behind fruit trees that still bloom on the parkway as well.

Here’s a native. Do you know what it is? it’s a buckeye. Eventually these flowers will turn into a beautiful brown, nutlike fruit.

Not a clue here, but I like it’s whirly petals. Any ideas?

While I’m on clueless, here’s another example. But wow!

A member of the sunflower family for sure.

Bull thistles would make a pretty bouquet, but your sweetie best have a sense of humor.

I am thinking evening primrose here, but I could be wrong.

One of my all-time favorites but you definitely don’t want to give it to your sweetheart. Jimson weed is poisonous…

But it sure is pretty, This one is just opening up.

Be it ever so humble— the common blackberry. Great fruit!

And for fun, I’ll close today with this strange fellow, Dutchman’s pipe!

MONDAY’S POST: We are going to visit the Devil’s Kitchen. Are you ready?

The Wednesday Photo Essay: “Excuse Me, Ma’am, but Do You Know There Is No Dog on Your Leash?”

February 12, 2020 / Curt Mekemson / 23 Comments

I was admiring this puffin on Coquille Point in Bandon when I heard about the missing dog.

I was up on a cliff studying one of Washed Ashore’s sculptures made out of ocean trash when I heard the statement. It was a classic. The perfect senior moment! “Excuse me ma’am,” the young woman called, “do you know there is no dog on your leash?” I turned quickly. At 76 going on 77, I take notes on such incidents for future reference. Yes indeed, a bent, elderly woman was walking down the pathway holding a leash that was strung out behind her— without the dog. She turned, glared at the leash, muttered something, and stared back down the trail like Clint Eastwood on steroids. There came Fido (the name has been changed to protect the innocent), who was equally old in dog years, about 30 feet down the path, tottering along with no obvious desire to catch up. I could almost hear him chanting “Free at last, free at last,” as he stopped to smell the dog pee and dream of his puppyhood days.

Once Fido was captured and leashed again, he dutifully walked off with his mistress and the young woman, waiting patiently for the moment when he would once again slip his leash.

With the help of the young woman, Fido was soon recollared and the three went on their way. As did I. But I wanted to write down the story down before it wandered off like Fido. And since I was still hanging around Bandon, I decided to show you more rocks today instead of the American River flowers I promised. I am sure you are excited. Plus, Friday is Valentine’s Day, the perfect day for flowers.

A really big rock. There, are you satisfied. No? Well how about a rock with a hole in it?

I think the hole was supposed to represent an elephant’s eye. I had an uncontrollable urge to go down and photograph waves crashing through it.

The stairs to the beach. I’ve included this photo for my WP friends who are into perspective.

The spume, blown by a hard, cold wind, was gorgeous. But it wasn’t what I came for. I wanted big waves crashing through the hole. I quickly leaned that there was a problem…

Yes there were big waves, but they blocked the light, making photography difficult. But you get the point. I headed on…

And found some chubby seals sunning themselves on a rock. Fat is beautiful from a seal’s perspective. A layer of blubber keeps them warm when they dive up to 500 feet in search of food. It’s so dark, they use their whiskers to check out lunch. The whiskers operate independently and are apparently quite sensitive. “Ah, I feel lobster is on the menu today.”

After checking out the elephants eye and the fat seals, I moved on to the Face Rock Wayside. Can you spot the face?

Here’s a clue. BTW, I did a post on Bandon a couple of years ago, so some of these photos may be familiar.

There are many other impressive rocks on the beach at the Face Rock Wayside. You are free to name them whatever you want. I thought of these as a pointy headed mom with her pointy headed kids.

The sea stacks, as they are called, were once part of a massive cliff stretching out into the ocean. The forces of erosion— wind, rain, sun, ice, and waves— had worn them away to their present status. Existing cliffs are sea stacks in waiting.

I hiked along the beach merrily naming rocks. Behold the turtle who only makes progress when it sticks its neck out.

I thought this sea stack seen from a cave might be up for the ‘Fickle Finger of Fate’ award Rowan and Martin used to give out on their TV program. Boy could we use that today. I’m not sure that there are enough fingers to go around, however. Before your time? Google it.

What does this sea stack resemble to you? Inquiring minds want to know.

I decided this rock was decidedly frog-like with its bulging eyes and shiny white teeth. It was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

A seal, perhaps, with its head up barking.

I’m thinking naked Hindu goddess, here. But it takes a stretch of the imagination.

Of course there were lots of sea stacks that I was happy to admire for their beauty alone.

A sea stack bathes in the late afternoon sun.

Certainly, there were other things to admire down on the beach, like this cave.

And this lone seagull with its massive perch.

And water flowing across the beach leaving behind unusual tracks.

In line with my theme, I’ll close with this dog that ran across the beach in front of me. Remember when I mentioned the wind? The dog pretty much says it all!

NEXT POSTS: I promise flowers for Valentine’s Day. On Monday we will visit the Devil’s Kitchen. Scary? We’ll see.

It’s Monday and Where in the Heck am I…. Blogging Plans for 2020

February 10, 2020 / Curt Mekemson / 31 Comments

Actually, I am in Bandon, Oregon, one of my favorite towns on the Oregon Coast. I would like you to meet Natasha, the sea trash turtle. The Washed Ashore Organization is dedicated to cleaning up our oceans and creates whimsical creatures out of trash its volunteers clean up along the shoreline.

I dropped Peggy at the airport in Medford on Friday. She’s off to spend a couple of weeks in Virginia on grandkid duty while their parents make a quick escape to Mexico. “Please come Mom,” Tasha had requested while Clay had sent her first-class tickets. Hard to ignore that appeal. I was invited as well, but having just spent Christmas and New Year’s back east, I opted for a solo trip in Quivera the RV over to the Oregon Coast with plans for making my way south to Redwood National Park in Northern California.

That’s what I am up to now as I put this post together. I decided what better time to write about our coming travel/blogging plans for the year than when I am out traveling. I’ve just spent the past three days in the small coastal town of Bandon, which has some of the most impressive rock formations on the Oregon Coast. They make up several of the photos for today’s blog.

Travel-wise, we have a full year planned. 2020 started with our trip home on Amtrak from Washington DC, which I’ve already blogged about. This is trip number two. (Although it’s sans-Peggy, I’m counting it.) In late March, we are taking off for a 16-day cruise focusing on the Panama Canal. Peggy lived down there in 70’s for a while in her life before Curt. It is where Tasha was born. She has been wanting to get back there for a very long time. When I mentioned the possibility of the cruise, she jumped on it. Peggy’s sister Jane and her husband Jim are going along. In addition to Panama, we’ll be making stops in Costa Rica, Columbia, Nicaragua and Mexico.

We plan to kick off our backpacking season with a 40-mile trip down the Rogue River trail. It is beautiful in spring and makes an ideal beginning of the season hike. Peggy turns 70 this year and wants to make sure she celebrates properly. She also wants to explore more of the Pacific Crest trail through Oregon this summer as well. I’ll plan a 70-mile trip to go along with her years and my 77. We also have a 7-day kayak trip planned.

The biggie in celebrating her 70^th, however, is a 7-day Rhine River Cruise from Amsterdam to Bern. We’ve invited our children and grandchildren along and, needless to say, they are excited. We will be in the middle of our trip when Peggy has her birthday on July 5^th. Afterward, we will pop over to France to spend several days with Peg’s brother John and his wife, Frances.

We have tentative plans to return to Burning Man this fall. That, of course, depends on our ability to get tickets in the BM lottery, never a sure thing. Throw in the fact that we will be in the middle of the Panama Canal with iffy internet connections when the lottery takes place, I am not optimistic.

Peggy is off on another cruise in September, this time with her sister Jane from San Francisco up to Victoria, BC, a girls’ trip. I’ll take advantage of it to drive Quivera south down through Santa Cruz, Monterrey, Carmel and Big Sur. I love that area and have been escaping down there since the 60s and 70s, when I used to camp out along the road in my VW van. It’s as close as I ever got to being a hippie.

Quivera and I are staying at the Bandon Wayside Motel plus RV Campground in Bandon. It’s a small but charming, beautifully kept up property that dates back to 1949. If you look to the left, you will see a small sign featuring a 60s-type VW Van.

A close up. Made me feel right at home. I was never a surfer, but I sure identified with the peace concept! Still do, as hard as it is in this era of nation-states rattling nuclear weapons.

And this is Nicole, the co-owner of motel and RV campground along with her partner David. She’s an absolute bundle of energy and friendliness. If it weren’t for the all of the hard work she puts into the place, I’d be a little bit suspicious that she has some modern-day hippie in her. She told me “David and I decided to marry the motel instead of each other.”

October will be time to jump in Quivera and do another month-long exploration of the Southwest. This time we want to include Death Valley NP, the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, Zion NP, Bryce NP, Capitol Reef NP, Canyonlands NP, and Arches NP. (This may be news to Peggy, grin.) After that we will be traveling east to spend the holidays with our kids. We are contemplating using Amtrak again, following different routes. Does that sound like enough for the year? Do you think I will have adequate material to blog about? Heck, I still have lots from last year? I never seem to catch up. Do you? And then there is the book I am writing…

I’ll conclude with a note of parental pride, if I may. Our son Tony just received the Coast Guard’s second highest award for coordinating the massive rescue effort the Coast Guard undertook in the Bahamas during Hurricane Dorian. The storm was a devastating category five hurricane with record-setting winds of up 175 mph. He and his fellow Coast Guard helicopter pilots spent 5-days more or less without sleep on the ground and up in the very dangerous air. The Commander of the Coast Guard and the Secretary of Homeland Security awarded Tony with the medal.

As I mentioned, Bandon has some very impressive rocks or sea stacks. It was low tide and I did a long beach walk. The day was beautifully clear but cold! The ocean was showing off with some very impressive waves.

I was hiking toward the mid afternoon sun, which can be challenging for photos. So I decided to go with it rather than fight it. From here, it looked like the two rocks might be holding a conversation.

Up closer, the rocks revealed colorful turquoise water left behind by the receding tide and rippled by the cold breeze.

Speaking of backlit, the sun absolutely robbed this photo of all color. That’s driftwood on the beach, left behind by recent storms. I quickly named the piece on the left Bugs Bunny to give the strange scene a sense of familiarity. The gate-like structure on the left suggests a portal into some mysterious realm. Or maybe I was already there. Did you just see the driftwood moving?

Turning around toward the end of my hike, the sun was more cooperative. I may have found Big Foot. Check out the toes!

I liked the way this driftwood seem to flow into the sea stack.

I didn’t capture this two inch deep, two foot wide stream flowing into the ocean quite the way I wanted to, but still I found it interesting.

If you hang out with me much on this blog, you know I have a thing for dead trees, and that includes driftwood. The beach at Bandon was full of it.

This fellow, looking out to sea was also licking his lips. I know, I know; it’s a stretch. BTW, does the orange hairdo seem a bit familiar.

Now here is a hunk of wood. Many of the pieces of driftwood on the beach were old stumps left behind by logging operations and eventually washed out to sea.

Here’s another one with its logging history on display for the world to see, or at least for anyone walking the beach in Bandon.

When you are surrounded by scenic vistas, it’s hard to look down sometimes. Still beauty is everywhere, including in this small rock. And check out the patters in the sand.

I thought his rock was the most interesting, given the sun, shadows, and hole.

And one should never ignore the blown spume. I watched a little girl gleefully chase a large piece across the sand. She caught it and grabbed it. Of course in crushed into nothing. “Grandpa!” she yelled.

I’ll close today with a few photos I took while wandering around Bandon’s Old Town. I loved this magnificent octopus.

It had one of those faces that only its mother could love.

I found this beautiful octopus mural nearby.

This seahorse sculpture with its stern face also caught my attention.

I’ll close the post the way I started with a photo of one of Washed Ashore’s marvelous creations made out of beach trash. Meet Henry. I wouldn’t suggest sticking your hand in his mouth. Henry seems like he has an attitude.

NEXT POST: It will be time for my Wednesday Photograph Essay. This time it will be mainly flowers I photographed along the American River Parkway in Sacramento, California.

Wandering through Time and Place

Exploring the world with Curtis and Peggy Mekemson