Frankly, the lower Colorado River desert is a disgrace to planet Earth. But don't get me wrong: I like visiting the desert along the lower Colorado River in December and January. The temperature is moderate, and usually there are just a few days of soft rain. With all the rubble and desert "pavement," muddy roads are not the problem they are in other parts of the country.
Still, by February, I am eager to leave that ghastly rubble and head towards southeastern Arizona and southwestern New Mexico. Coffee Girl loves to run on dirt as much as I love to mountain bike on it.
Besides the comfort, something seems wholesome about land that has vegetation and soil. The ancients had their goddess, Ceres, for grain. But was there a god for rubble, spines, and stickers?
It might sound slightly comical, but the term "anthropologically-correct" seems fitting to describe grasslands. What good are deserts and mountains, except as postcard fodder?
Still, by February, I am eager to leave that ghastly rubble and head towards southeastern Arizona and southwestern New Mexico. Coffee Girl loves to run on dirt as much as I love to mountain bike on it.
Besides the comfort, something seems wholesome about land that has vegetation and soil. The ancients had their goddess, Ceres, for grain. But was there a god for rubble, spines, and stickers?
It might sound slightly comical, but the term "anthropologically-correct" seems fitting to describe grasslands. What good are deserts and mountains, except as postcard fodder?
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