"You came all the way up here, just for shade? the flagger asked. I had stopped for the road paving. She struck up a conversation probably just to kill time.
I tried to explain the facts of life to her, but how could I? She was standing there, on a road, in bright sunlight, and didn't even have a hat on. Why waste my breath?
The Idaho forests are darker than the inside of my trailer. A friend calls it "my little cave."
I am really enjoying the opaqueness of these overgrown fuel-bomb forests. It has been a pleasant surprise. It is actually possible to go out mountain biking late in the morning, say, 08:30, and luxuriate in the cool shade, right out on the road! It would be even better if there were a breeze, but wind can't move through an opaque forest.
Go to the thesaurus and look up all the words that describe my relief, which is the mirror image of what northern snowbirds feel when they show up along the lower Colorado River at Christmas, after suffering low stratus clouds, drizzle, sleet, slop & slush for the previous couple months.
I can understand their perspective, but I doubt they can understand mine.
I have died and gone to heaven. Something written into the DNA of this gringo demands that the landscape must have some green plants, and that creeks actually have water flowing through them. It demands that something must actually be alive.
It does raise the question of how best to move with the seasons. Arguably, you should move north about 15 May, when solar hell starts in the Southwest. It is warm enough up North.
Ah, but the insects are worse in early summer. By mid-July the bugs become merciful up here -- another pleasant surprise.
The second half of summer brings solar hell and disgusting dryness to the north. If the Southwest is having a good monsoon season, 01 August would be a good time to head south.
And yet, it is difficult to head south that early. Some stubbornness in us wants to make us stay north until 01 October.
I tried to explain the facts of life to her, but how could I? She was standing there, on a road, in bright sunlight, and didn't even have a hat on. Why waste my breath?
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| From The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly |
The Idaho forests are darker than the inside of my trailer. A friend calls it "my little cave."
I am really enjoying the opaqueness of these overgrown fuel-bomb forests. It has been a pleasant surprise. It is actually possible to go out mountain biking late in the morning, say, 08:30, and luxuriate in the cool shade, right out on the road! It would be even better if there were a breeze, but wind can't move through an opaque forest.
Go to the thesaurus and look up all the words that describe my relief, which is the mirror image of what northern snowbirds feel when they show up along the lower Colorado River at Christmas, after suffering low stratus clouds, drizzle, sleet, slop & slush for the previous couple months.
I can understand their perspective, but I doubt they can understand mine.
 | |
| From the vault...grabbing shade however you can, in New Mexico. Dogs understand. But try to explain this to a tourist! |
I have died and gone to heaven. Something written into the DNA of this gringo demands that the landscape must have some green plants, and that creeks actually have water flowing through them. It demands that something must actually be alive.
It does raise the question of how best to move with the seasons. Arguably, you should move north about 15 May, when solar hell starts in the Southwest. It is warm enough up North.
Ah, but the insects are worse in early summer. By mid-July the bugs become merciful up here -- another pleasant surprise.
The second half of summer brings solar hell and disgusting dryness to the north. If the Southwest is having a good monsoon season, 01 August would be a good time to head south.
And yet, it is difficult to head south that early. Some stubbornness in us wants to make us stay north until 01 October.
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