We are camped in the Prescott national forest, but not in the ranger district of Prescott itself. What a relief it is to be away from the Prescott mindset. But let's not beat up on Prescott too much. No doubt, Sedona is even worse.
It is so old-fashioned where I am boondocked right now. There are few visitors, perhaps because the scenery is nice, but un-postcard-like. There aren't any special categories of land management, with all the obnoxious brown signs that let you know your Government is watching everything you do. Places like this are my sanctuaries from Progress.
It is so old-fashioned where I am boondocked right now. There are few visitors, perhaps because the scenery is nice, but un-postcard-like. There aren't any special categories of land management, with all the obnoxious brown signs that let you know your Government is watching everything you do. Places like this are my sanctuaries from Progress.
The dogs and I were off exploring Woodchute Mountain. We came upon a water entrapment pond when I noticed a plurality of animal tracks on the talcum powder-like dust. These ponds are a big deal in the tawny chaparral of Arizona's Central Highlands. They are as important as the community well in a traditional third world village.
I saw some tracks over three inches wide, and half-convinced myself that they were mountain lion tracks. Nearby were tracks with five toes and clear claw marks. Say, isn't that the giveaway for black bear tracks? The imprint was heavy in the palm; black bears walk like that. What kept all these predators and prey from going on a rampage at ye olde watering hole? Did they follow a different schedule that never overlapped with a rival?
How I would like to have the ability of Earlier Man to read a story from these tactile remanences of the night. Without it we are illiterate, and exploring land becomes less interesting. It's like one of the basic senses being missing. We are already sense-deprived enough compared to most animals because our sense of smell is so weak.
Imagine sitting out on a chilly night, a quarter mile downwind of this watering hole. There are no sounds except for occasional coyote screams. There is no light except from the Milky Way or maybe a moon. You wait patiently while aiming an infrared scope at the pond.
How I would like to have the ability of Earlier Man to read a story from these tactile remanences of the night. Without it we are illiterate, and exploring land becomes less interesting. It's like one of the basic senses being missing. We are already sense-deprived enough compared to most animals because our sense of smell is so weak.
Imagine sitting out on a chilly night, a quarter mile downwind of this watering hole. There are no sounds except for occasional coyote screams. There is no light except from the Milky Way or maybe a moon. You wait patiently while aiming an infrared scope at the pond.
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