There are lots of wild roses growing along the PCT, but it is rare that you find one so perfect.
Today, I just want to wish each and everyone of you who follow this blog a very happy and healthy New Year. And I want to thank you for joining Peggy and me on our journey as we wander through time and place. We are privileged to have you along.
What better way is there than to say it than with flowers. It works for Valentine’s Day, it works for Mother’s Day, and it works for numerous other special occasions, so why not New Years! I’m sure the floral industry would love this, but I am not talking about the flowers you buy from a florist. I am talking about the beautiful, wild, and free flowers you find growing along the trail, or the roadside, or on a vacant city lot, or in a park— the list goes on. Here, I am talking specifically about the flowers I found along the Pacific Crest Trail on my 700 mile backpack trek this last summer. You’ve already seen some of these. I have bunches. I suspect you will see more on Valentine’s Day. Enjoy!
A cheerful tiger lily!Dramatic scarlet gilia.Azalea.Pretty face is an appropriate name for this flower.Prickly poppies, I think.Not sure what this flower is, but the butterfly obviously liked it. There were several types of irises, a flower noted for variety. I believe this is a Siskiyou iris.A wild morning glory.Stunning yellow lupine.Stonecrop.And concluding with a Washington lily.
AGAIN— WISHING YOU THE BEST. We look forward to seeing you in 2019. Curtis and Peggy
As a year filled with seemingly insurmountable national and international problems draws to a close, my mind turns to the beauty and the peace of my 700 mile journey down the PCT this past year. The issues of the everyday world fade as you are hiking up a mountain, providing a different perspective on what is important. As the renowned naturalist John Muir noted, “The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”
There were tough days out there— as tough as any I have ever faced— but even the most difficult were countered by the beauty of the areas I hiked through. It was a beauty that ranged from towering mountains down to the cheerful monkey flower above. Today, I will continue to share that beauty in my third post about the Pacific Crest Trail between Carson Pass and Sonora Pass in the central section of California’s Sierra Nevada Mountain Range.
Thistles are often thought of as invasive weeds, something to be chopped down or poisoned out. It is hard to think of this fellow as anything other than a beautiful wild flower.I caught this Sierra thistle in full bloom.When I backpack by myself, as I was on this section of the trail, I try to find secluded campsites. To me, it is much more of a wilderness experience. I lucked out with this little no-name lake. I had it to myself and there was no sign of people recently camping in the area. It was a bit of a challenge to climb out on these rocks and dip up my water, however. (grin)The lake provided some great reflection shots, capturing the surrounding forest. They ranged from this impressionistic view…To clearer views.As evening approached, thunderheads suggested I might be in for a rip-roaring thunder and lightning storm. I put on my rainfly. I would have much preferred that to what I got. I woke up in the middle of the night to the strong smell of smoke creeping into my tent. I climbed out to make sure that there were no flames about! As it turned out, smoke from the Redding fire to the north and the Yosemite fire to the south had caught up with me. Above is how my little lake looked in the morning.And as I hiked down the trail through the Mokelumne Wilderness. Whenever smoke blocked views of the surrounding mountains during my hike down the PCT, I focused on closer views, like this massive granite boulder that was likely left behind by a glacier.This sign made me smile. It was a good thing that I knew which direction I was traveling.A gnarled tree caught my attention. I can’t help but think of hobbits and elves when I find such trunks.Junipers can almost always be depended on to have unique personalities. Rabbit brush provided a burst of color.As I made my way south, some impressive mountains came into view. Checking my map, I found I would soon be climbing them, naturally.And up I went, through the still smokey air. My 75 year-old lungs were not happy.As through-hikers say, it is what it is, however, so I hiked on—and on— into some fascinating rock country, that I will feature on my next PCT post.
I went searching for three wise men at Carowinds Amusement Park on the border of North and South Carolina. I didn’t find them. Maybe they were lost in the pre-Christmas crowd. But I did find one of their camels.
It’s Christmas Eve here in Charlotte, North Carolina. The tree is up and loaded with goodies. The gingerbread houses have been built and the Christmas cookies are ready to eat. (Minus those that Grandpa has already eaten. I have a serious responsibility to test the cookies as they come out of the oven. Sometimes I have to eat two, or three, just to be sure they meet my high standards.) Our son-in-law Clay will soon be up and preparing tonight’s roast. He’s one heck of a cook. All’s well with the world, or at least all is well with our little corner. And that’s enough for today.
Like Santa, we are in the middle of our holiday rounds. Last week, we were in Florida visiting with our son and his family. This week we are with our daughter and her family in Charlotte. It’s her turn to have us for Christmas. Next year is Tony’s turn, as we have already been reminded several times. (grin) Santa, of course, has the advantage of being able to be in both places. That’s because he has that magical sleigh and eight reindeer plus the red-nosed fellow. We have to travel by airplane, where we are lucky to arrive at all.
Santa dashing away on top of one of the rides at Carowinds.One of his eight reindeer!
Both sets of kids (and grandkids) decided it would be fun to check out the holiday decorations at major amusement parks this year: Busch Gardens in Florida and Carowinds in North Carolina. They were impressive:
Clay used his Google Android phone to capture this photo at Carowinds. (Clay works for Google as a manager at their data center in South Carolina.)Both parks featured decorated trees. This is at Busch Gardens.Another Busch Gardens tree.This tree with the moon hanging out above was at Carowinds.Clay caught this ‘bulb-tree.’And I took a close-up.As usual, I couldn’t resist a reflection shot. This is Carowinds. A very big Christmas tree ornament at Carowinds.As expected, both parks had impressive Christmas trees: Busch Gardens… Carowinds. This tree, BTW, sits on the border between North and South Carolina.
Making gingerbread houses is a tradition at both houses, which isn’t surprising considering Peggy’s love of all things Christmas. The grandkids join in the effort with total dedication, except for eating half of the house decorations. They are not alone in their passion for jelly beans and M&Ms and candy canes, gumdrops etc. The doggies also have a sweet tooth. But which one ate the gingerbread house?
Was it Natasha and Clay’s dogs: Miss Innocence (Chima) here?Or, “How could you even think I might eat the Gingerbread House? ” Lexi.”Or Tony and Cammie’s Miss Definitely Not Me (Lyla).
Chima and Lexi were actually innocent— this time. Not that they wouldn’t eat a gingerbread house if someone left it on the floor by mistake and no-one was home. But they lack Lyla’s long legs. (Clay swears his dogs would not eat the gingerbread house.) Cammie and boys had just finished their house and were briefly out of the room. Cammie returned to find Lyla on her hind legs scarfing down their house. In Lyla’s defense, she had only thoroughly licked one side— but I am pretty sure that the house’s demise was just a matter of time. Anyway, here are the Cox family gingerbread houses:
Cody’s Robot House… Check out the teeth! Ethan’s Reindeer House… And Peggy’s. She would never be left out when it comes to building gingerbread houses.While I didn’t catch Lyla’s well licked gingerbread house, Peggy and I found that our bedroom had been invaded by animals. This was special. Imagine kids loaning out their animals, even for a night! It was the true Christmas spirit.
Speaking of animals, Carowinds had put together a petting zoo for Christmas. It’s where I found the camel. There was also a very, very strange looking goat that looked like it was having a really bad hair day, that it was an ancient goat from another time…
I decided that it was… are you ready for this… The Goat of Christmas Past.
A VERY HAPPY HOLIDAY TO ALL OF OUR GREAT INTERNET FRIENDS. THANKS FOR FOLLOWING ‘WANDERING THROUGH TIME AND PLACE.’
Face it, Christmas is not the time you want to hang out at the mall!
It’s that time of the year. Christmas is just a few days away. Most of your shopping is done. Hopefully. But the odds are there are a few last minute gifts you have to buy. You grit your teeth, grind your molars, and head for the mall. It’s an absolute zoo.
First of all, the parking lot is insane! Cars are parked everywhere. You feel like you are up to your tail in alligators.You start looking for a parking place with a smile on your face…And end up looking like this.Just when you think you’ve found the perfect spot, some one backs in and grabs it! And you even had your left turn signal on.So you blow your horn and say non-Christmas-like things.And in case the person didn’t get that, you add a gesture of good will.The whole experience makes you want to bury your head.Finally in the back of the back parking lot, you find a space. Hoping beyond hope that you will remember where your car is, you head into the mall prepared to do battle!You know the perfect gift for Susy. She has been asking for it all year. Why oh why did you wait this long? When you get there, it’s the last one and someone else is there before you!I may look like a sweet kitty, he says.But do you know how I got these stripes?I got them from eating zebras. Lots of them.Sigh…Shopping doesn’t get much easier. There are the big guys with armor on that crowd in front of you…The fast sleek ones that dash about at 60 miles per hour, grabbing up the bargains…
And the tall ones that can spot gifts way before you do.
But eventually you are finished. With arms so loaded you that you can barely see, you go in search of your car that you swear someone has moved. And then you just swear. Eventually you find it, however, and are faced with the eternal dilemma: Will everything fit in your trunk?By the time you get home, you are exhausted. It’s time for a well-earned nap…Where you dream about eating large drumsticks for Christmas dinner. Squawk!
This is called what you do when you have been at Busch Gardens, taken lots of animal photos, and wonder how you can turn them into a Christmas theme. 🙂 Hope you enjoyed it. My next post will be more Christmassy. I promise. Maybe.
Oh come on, Mom. You’ve already taken a million photos of me!
The cameras are out. It’s that time of the year. Open a present. Get your photo taken. “Hold up those socks, Joe. And smile. Aunt Tilda needs to know how much you like your gift.” Right. You know the routine. Put on deer antlers and get your photo taken. Take your photo with Grandma. She loves it. But where’s Grandpa. “How come Grandpa always has to go to the bathroom when photos are being taken Mom? He told me that photos give him gas.” And maybe it’s true. He looks like he’s got gas.
Peggy and I are visiting with our son Tony, his wife Cammie, and our grandkids Connor, Chris and Cooper on a pre-Christmas visit. We took a trip over to Bush Gardens yesterday. I took photos of the Chimp family for Christmas. I had my usual challenge getting anyone to smile.
Like father like son, they always say.And then there was Grandpa, doing everything he could to avoid having his photo taken— including glaring at the camera. Check out the father/son pose.And here’s dad, giving me the look.A black and white family portrait. At least I had persuaded both father and son to look toward the camera at the same time. A small miracle in itself.And finally, maybe, just barely: a smile.
Then there is all the stuff about table manners at Christmas. Everyone is expected to be on their best behavior. And what are the odds of that happening? I dropped over to visit with the Gorilla family to check it out.
I’m not sure. Maybe stuffing yourself is a sign of good manners, like you really like the food.What are you supposed to do when your plate is crammed high?And what if someone adds chips? “Where’s the salsa?”Always worth another handful. “These darn things are addictive.” How many times have you heard that as an excuse for eating more.But back to the lettuce. Even Mom, the absolute guardian of good manners, seems to be spilling food down her front.But finally, I find some real Christmas spirit. Sharing. “Here, son. Look what I brought you. More lettuce. Merry Christmas.”
NEXT POST: Maybe I’ll be back at Busch Garden in Florida, or on the Malecon in Puerto Vallarta, or hiking down the Pacific Crest Trail. You never know. I sure don’t. 🙂
No doubt about it, monsters lurk along Puerto Vallarta’s Malecon. But they tend to be fun and weird rather than scary.
A walk down the Malecon is a walk down memory lane for Peggy and me. No trip to Puerto Vallarta would be complete without one, or two, or three. The ocean with its waves, and beach and sealife— like pelicans performing their insane dives— the attractive city backed up against the hills, and the art. Especially the art!
My next three posts will feature the work of the various artists starting today with the Roundabout of the Sea, a creative work by Alejandro Colunga from Guadalajara. It combines weird and fun at the same time. My kind of art. These photos have been taken on different trips at various times of the day.
Take this octopus, for example. It hangs up in the air on a high pedestal and stares down at passing folks. With a palm frond backdrop.And finally at night with out iPhone (having lost my camera).
Each of the pieces in the Roundabout is designed as a chair to allow people walking along the Malecon a chance to sit down and rest, or, more likely, have their photos taken.
Picture yourself leaning back here. (grin) Other chairs can be seen in the background. I call this piece Miss Golden Orbs. (Not sure how the artist would relate to the names I have created.)Here is chair connected to Senior Long Snout. He is also featured at the top of the post.Another view of Senior Long Snout.And a side view in black and white.Meet Bugle Nose.And in color.Bugle Nose’s chair with the Bay of Bandaras in the background.Couldn’t come up with a name for this fellow…But he grew on me.A different perspective. A close up.Finally, leaving the Roundabout wouldn’t be right without noticing the interesting feet these characters have.
I was looking for the perfect camp location on Forestdale Creek when I noticed another man putting up a tent nearby. I went over to chat, or hobnob, so to speak.
The 65-year-old Hob McConville was on a mission: finish his second trip over the PCT. (His first trip had been back in 1976 when I was hiking on the Appalachian Trail in Maine.) He had already hiked the Appalachian Trail twice, and the Continental Divide Trail once. He and his wife had walked across Europe three times. In other words, hiking long distances is pretty much what Hob does. He didn’t know whether he would do the Continental Divide again. Large bears, i.e. grizzlies, worry him.
“I’ve camped under this beautiful sugar pine,” he informed me, “because it is my tent’s last night and I want to give it a good experience.” Obviously he liked his tent. In fact, it was well-loved, like a child’s teddy bear after five years of hard loving. The tent was literally falling apart at the seams and Hob had been repairing it with Post Office packaging tape. “My wife is meeting me at Echo Summit with a new tent,” he sighed, more sad than excited. Hob deeply believes that anything you purchase should be used until it is beyond use, and then a little longer.
I hated to tell him that his beautiful sugar pine was a white pine. I’m not sure why I did, except older mountain men like the two of us enjoy knowing our trees. He wanted to debate until I pointed out the cones. And the tree was a beauty, regardless of the type of cones it produced. I am sure that his tent felt well-honored. I wondered if Hob would take it home and bury it in his Connecticut backyard, like a favorite pet. Hob’s pack was in similar condition, but apparently it had a lot of miles left.
This gorgeous white pine with limbs askew sheltered Hob’s tent on its last night.Hob’s backpack looked a bit threadbare, as well. But it hadn’t quite reached the status of being retired.
The next morning, our discussion turned to the PCT and Hob’s philosophy on long-distance hiking. “It shouldn’t be a race,” he proclaimed fervently. His feeling was that it was becoming more and more like one. He could foresee the day when companies like Nike might sponsor races to see who could finish the trail in the shortest amount of time. I agreed. Just completing the trail in a season leaves little time to appreciate the beauty of the region. Jumping from the already long 20-25 mile days to 30 or 40-mile days would make such appreciation much more difficult. I see nothing wrong with the pride through-hikers feel in finishing the trail; it is a pride well earned. And Hob was quite proud of his accomplishments. But the ultimate value of the hiking the PCT— beyond personal satisfaction and growth— is in experiencing nature and developing a commitment to protecting wilderness areas. The PCT is not a race track.
While the conversation had been stimulating, Hob had miles to go to meet up with his new tent (and wife), and I had more nature to go appreciate. We parted company with Hob heading north and me heading south. Here are some of the things I saw along the way.
No more than a quarter of a mile up the trail, I came on a beautiful flower garden that would make an English lord lust over having it on his estate. I promptly took a half hour off to admire it, which is time that few through-hikers could spare.The garden was filled with a variety of flowers. I think that the daisy like flowers are asters. The yellow flowers are groundsel.The aster-like flowers up close.And the groundsel.More groundsel.Rock fringe.And monkey flowers. Not much farther along, I came on this small lake that demanded another 15 minutes of my time.
I passed a few more lakes and then the PCT did what the PCT always does.
It headed up a mountain.
I met a young woman who was talking on her cell-phone with her brother. “I just saw a bear up the trail,” she told me breathlessly. I didn’t see the bear, but I did see…
Red elderberries…Rabbit bush with an iridescent blue butterfly… A caterpillar chomping down on a leaf. When I tried for a closeup, it saw my shadow, assumed I was something wanting to eat it, and dropped to the ground.Charteuse green on the rocks. This may not be Facebook, but I am lichen it!A closeup of the lichen. A pretty rust-colored lichen is also found in the area.I don’t have a clue what this plant is, but I am pretty sure it was left behind by a UFO-alien. I kept my distance.Looking way down from the mountain I could see the Blue Lakes. The tiny dot on the road is a car.
The last time I had hiked through this area, we had walked around the lakes. The night before, one of my long time trekkers, Nancy Pape, had choked on pills. My friend Ken Lake had jumped in with the Heimlich Maneuver and saved her life. The time before, we had hiked out from the lakes to the small town of Markleeville, California and happened upon the Clampers holding their sacred initiation rites. Men were walking around with toilet seats over their necks shouting obscenities. They were quite upset that we had women along who witnessed the ceremony. The women were amused.
As I started down from the mountain, I came on this bunch of dead flowers that were reflecting the coming fall. I thought of it as a dried floral arrangement.I also had a view of this Mokelumne Wilderness landmark that has been known from the days of the early pioneers up to today as the Nipple. Once again, smoke filled the skies. I found a snag…That pointed toward the Nipple.And a tall, weird, flowering plant that is known as deer’s tongue. Why? I don’t know.A close up of its greenish flowers.Corn lilies are another plant with greenish flowers. These were backlit by the sun.These are corn lily flowers.I’ll close today’s post with this shot of hemlock trees silhouetted against the sky and forest. You can tell that they are hemlocks by the way their tops are bent.
NEXT POST: A walk down Puerto Vallarta’s Malecon and an exploration of the public art along the way. After that, I will do a post on Huichol art in PV and then another post on the PCT.
As I went through my photos for today’s post, I noticed that almost all of the human size sculptures were women. I wonder why?
The Day of the Dead, or Día de Muertos, is a seriously fun holiday in Puerto Vallarta and throughout Mexico where the dearly departed are celebrated with hopes that the celebration will help them on their journey. People dress up in dead-people skeleton costumes, altars are established, and special foods are prepared. Gaily decorated skulls and skeletons are everywhere. Peggy and I have yet to be in Mexico when the event takes place (which is at the end of October/beginning of November), but the skulls and skeletons are still around, lots of them.
The skulls seem to represent both sexes equally, although this one seems to have a feminine cast to it. The gold teeth made me think of the dentist’s chair, a place I am all too familiar with. Ouch!
Of the life-size sculptures, I photographed, I could only find one man. This led me to speculate, naturally, as to why. I don’t think there is a reason particular to the holiday. About an equal number of men and women die, right. So is it that the girls dress up prettier, or that their eyes are more beautiful, or is it some other attribute, like the colorful bosom of the top photo.
Obviously, clothing is important, and you can do so much more with hats!And certainly this woman with her red flowers and curls is well-dressed.The hat and the boas lit up the lady from an earlier year. But what’s with the dead roses?The eyes have it here…And here. Same girl dressed up differently it would seem.Remember the Red Hat Ladies. How about a long necked Red Hat Lady?This gal had something to say. But I am not sure you would want to hear it.Here was my only large guy sculpture. I had to go back in time to find it.Smaller sculptures are found in the shops, often representing Huichol art.Another example but probably not Huichol art since it is lacking in Huichol symbolism. (More on this in a later post.)The red fingernails were a nice touch.Peggy and I were walking down one of Puerto Vallarta’s road and came on this lady walking her dog.And then there was this tile of a man out walking his dog— a dog that has a mission on its mind. Humor is an important part of the Day of the Dead.Here’s a lady monkeying around.A lady on a tile…And a lady on a dish. Once again, the hat is an important item of clothing.Skulls are found just about everywhere.And are creatively decorated, with clouds, for example.And with hearts.You could have your kitchen decorated with Day of the Dead tiles. Maybe even peace symbols.The Huichol have their own versions…I conclude my Day of the Dead collection with this fellow. Just possibly, he had imbibed a little too much Huichol peyote!
NEXT POST: I am back on the PCT making my way between Carson Pass and Sonora Pass.
The Puerto Vallarta Art scene is extensive ranging from public art to private galleries and extensive crafts. I found this delightful sculpture at the Corsica Galeria de Art. This fellow looked like he was commenting on my failure to check on whether the Cafe des Artistes was open for lunch.
Peggy and I were in search of a good place to take her sister Jane and brother-in-law Jim to lunch when they joined us in Puerto Vallarta. Both are quite talented cooks, a fact we have benefited from many times. Since we had fond memories of the Cafe des Artistes, it was at the top of our list. Unfortunately, as we discovered when we arrived, it was closed for lunch. (Whoops.) There was no danger of starving to death, however. Restaurants are rarely farther than a block away in downtown PV. More to the point, we found a couple of top art galleries located right next door: The Corsica Galeria de Art and the Galerie des Artistes. I remembered both from earlier visits. Both galleries welcomed us and told me to take all of the photos I wanted. They were quite open to my blogging about them. Publicity is publicity, right. I’ll start with the art I found at the Corsica Galeria de Art .
These Mexican Chihuahuas caught my attention immediately.I was reminded of these two cuties we found on Puerto Vallarta’s Isla Cuale a few years ago. It appears that the light brown fellow was getting an earful! Maybe he forgot to take the garbage out. Obviously, he cares. Grin. (Actually, he was about to get his ear bitten. Teach him.)The gallery featured several other colorful dogs in three dimension. I’m thinking boxer, here.A profile shot!This one reminded me of a cocker spaniel from my youth.The obvious companion to the sculpture I opened the post with. The shadow seemed a little sinister to me, like an evil twin sister. And what’s with the sort of scorpion, sort of cat, sort of person on her hand? This was one of Peggy’s favorites in the way the eyes, mouth, teeth and tongue stood out, becoming almost real in comparison to the rest of the painting.Peggy also was drawn to this hat with its many feathers. I found it almost surrealistic in its intensity.Are you a person who finds clowns scary? The little girl with her balloon didn’t. The triple chins suggest a bit too much fast food!I liked the colorful bull although the eyes suggest it could have been a member of the devil’s herd in “Ghost Riders in the Sky.” (One of my favorite songs when I was growing up.)Remember Senior Fish Head from my post on the Furniture Mart. This fellow seems to have a similar problem with fish on the brain. I’ll close my section on the Corsica with this sculpture. I found it quite unique. You can learn more about the gallery and its artists by visiting its website: Corsica Galeria de Art
The Galerie des Artistes was immediately down the hill from the Corsica and had a decidedly different feel to it.
I felt that this fellow could have been found hanging out in the woods of ancient Greece.One artist used hot air balloons to connect his paintings. Here the balloon is offering cherries to the bear. Knowing what I know about bears, it is about to gobble them down.This giraffe is either coming out of or morphed into a city, giving a new meaning to the term skyscraper.Alligator with companions on a unicycle? I’ll bet the artist has some very creative dreams. What would Freud say…Mixed medium skull. I’m starting to think Day of the Dead. (Next post)I am not sure whether cat woman is facing forward or backward, but she was colorful. Note the extra pair of arms. I blew this photo up and found bears, owls and rabbits staring back at me. But as you know, I have an active imagination and I am pretty sure that the artist was okay with me seeing whatever I wanted to see.More eyes staring at me. Is that a come-hither pose? Or is it Blake Shelton saying ‘choose me’ on Voice.. And finally, i was quite taken with this collage of floral images. I couldn’t find a website for Galerie des Artistes but apparently the gallery is on Facebook.
That’s it for the galleries, but it is not the end of the story. Peggy and I weren’t finished with our desire to revisit the Cafe des Artistes. So we made reservations and went there for our 28th Anniversary dinner. The ambience was superb, the waiters great, and the food delicious. Each year, Puerto Vallarta has a celebration featuring world-famous chefs and we ended up with one of the top chefs from Mexico City. It was a close to a perfect evening. We had to rely on our iPhone for photos. I had previously left my camera behind in a taxi and we weren’t able to recover it. The phone didn’t do well with capturing colors in the dim light, however, so I have rendered these photos in black and white.
We were greeted with a free drink. Cheers!A free hors d’ouvre arrived at our table next. There were also rose petals scattered on the tablecloth. . I had short ribs in a delicious mole sauce and Peggy had an out of this world duck leg that melted in her mouth.We couldn’t believe it when our dessert arrived on a large mirror platter complete with Happy Anniversary in chocolate surrounded by small dollops of raspberry sauce. A candle lit things up and a large spun sugar heart provided the backdrop! And no, I wasn’t a two-fisted drinker. We had moved Peggy’s glass of wine for the photo. Needless to say, the waiters were well-tipped!
NEXT POST: It’s time for the Day of the Dead. We missed it by a few days, but there were plenty of sculptures and crafts around to remind us of the event. Get ready for some bone-rattling fun.
Chalk art from the 2018 Madonnari Festival in Puerto Vallarta featuring a shaman and his spirit animal.
Half the fun of travel is coming upon the unexpected. Peggy and I were walking across Puerto Vallarta’s main square when we came across a number of people creating chalk art. We had happened upon the annual Madonnari Art Festival that the town shares with its sister city of Santa Barbara, California. Category competition ranged from children to adults. Here are a few of the highlights.
This was the young woman who was working on the shaman featured above.Young people were working under colorful umbrellas to finish their work.Which included these colorful fish.A pregnant woman provided quite a contrast.Not sure you would want this guy around your baby!I liked the colorful flowers this young woman wore.A close up. Peggy and I visited the area a few days later to take more photos. Time was beginning to impact the chalk art, reflecting its impermanence.Another artist worked on his masterpiece. I admired the young boy’s look of surprise or wonder..A masked woman…And finally, never trust a smiling shark.
Mural art shares a lot with chalk art, both in terms of its limited time frame and spontaneity. Peggy and I revisited a number of the murals we had seen in past visits to Puerto Vallarta plus discovered some new ones.
This was an old favorite…I decided it would be fun to render the mural in black and white. I liked the results. I believe the symbolism represents Huichol art, which I will be doing a post on.Nice kitty!Realistic cow and moth.Rather scary shaman/animal.An interesting decoration for a woman’s restroom. Just how bad do you have to go to face up to a devil fish and devils?A closer look.Senior Iguana plays a banjo while an excited frog jumps out of the lake.We found a couple of black and white murals.This one reminded me of the popular books where you fill in the colors.This was part of the same mural.Shaman woman rising out of a lake, possibly working a little magic on you.A woman/shaman with a coyote mask?I’ll conclude today with this native woman who is holding a fawn.
NEXT POST: I head south on the PCT from Carson Pass, which is named after the explorer Kit Carson, who happened to be caught in a snow storm starving on his first trip across the pass. He reported that dog and dried peas made a tasty treat. I don’t know if I would trust the word of a starving man, however.
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