Occupation of Independence

  It is too bad these little guys don't look too road-worthy. I'd like to travel in one just to see people's reactions. These would really put those young van nomads (with the Sprinters) in their place! Why would there be a whole herd of them in one place? Is there such a thing as a broker for sheepherder's huts? Notice that a couple of them have solar panels. But the broom fixed to the outside, near the rear door, is standard equipment.

It is hard to know how much schadenfreude was felt around the world  yesterday. Washington DC has become virtually a rogue government, always at war somewhere, always bombing some weak country with its high-tech weapons, while hypocritically preaching democracy and human rights. And it was humiliated by low-budget religious fanatics out of the Middle Ages.  If the Taliban were a more sympathetic group, there might have been dancing in the streets around the world. I wonder if this will reduce bloodshed around the world, or whether the world will get even more dangerous. When a champion boxer loses his title, he starts dreaming of making a comeback. Will Washington DC do this? It might become more selective about its future victims. It needs to "win" for a change in order to reclaim some of its lost prestige. Charlie Chaplin in "The Great Dictator" Washington DC should not take on a large country like Iran. Iraq has already been destroyed, so there won't be any g

  There is something a little scary about a badger. Maybe it is the weird flatness of their bodies. Anyway, I won't take my old sweetheart on her morning or evening walks in that direction again! It was only the second time I've seen a badger. This has been a great week for wildlife: two bull mooses, uncountable antelopes, two noisy deranged geese, cows that jumped over a barbed wire fence when scared by the mountain bike, grouses the size of pheasants, and my favorite, a kestrel. There is no mountain biking better than climbing a ridge into the unknown. I had just started the return back down the ridge. The north faces of the ravines were forested, while the rest was sagebrush. And just then I noticed a small bird hovering, levitating. That is, it was flying with zero ground speed, and 15-20 mph air speed. It must have been a kestrel or sparrow hawk. Any bird that plays with 'ridge lift' is a soulmate of mine. That sounds like something a hang glider would say, instead

  Since my old sweetheart will be headed for doggie heaven in a few months, I started to look into getting my third -- and probably last -- dog. My goodness, it is discouraging. Go to the usual websites and all you will see is pit bull mixes, huskies, Great Pyrenees, German shepherds, etc.  Of course, their inventory is dominated by dogs that people don't want -- the desirable dogs practically sell themselves. I wonder if they even make a new entry in the website when a dog comes in that will "sell" in 24 hours?  It is difficult to think without making generalizations about breeds. You do have to start somewhere. As the process goes on, you have to remind yourself that you are adopting a specific individual, not a statistical generalization. A visitor to my camp once upon a time, who was an extreme example of the difference between an individual and a breed-stereotype. This time around I won't spend much effort researching dog breeds. I did the first time around, b

Once again I was on a old Wagon Trail in southwestern Wyoming, and there was no signage. And once again, I appreciated the lack of signage. Previously, crossing the ridge on mountain bike had proved too difficult -- this time, walking would have to do. After parking the van and starting off, these guys immediately showed themselves.  Naturally there was water nearby to attract these two bull mooses. (And I refuse to leave off the 's' for plurals when referring to deer, elk, moose, sheep, etc.) It was surprising to see how black they were -- I thought mooses were dark brown. They were wary of me and kept an eye on me. I froze, and let them walk off. The trail in the background is not the old Wagon Trail, as I first thought. It seemed right to demand a refund from Ward Bond. Still, the real trail was steeper than any pioneer wanted. But it wasn't the steepness that was so bad -- it was the 170 years of erosion on the trail! There were only short sections that could be biked.