aha
i have figured out how to haggle my way onto the gubmint photo sharing device. no doubt i shall be added to the no-fly list for this one.
Some illustrative gumbo from my first week here on the ole' ranch of Ignatz and Krazy; let us delve right in to our elbows. These hark from a hike down into lower Frijoles Canyon -- which shall be hencefoth referred to in the English only -- past a waterfall or 2, to the murky and boobling rio grande, home of the nuclear catfish. Snow is still pretty deep up in the hills; earlier in the day, up on Cerro Grande -- the highest point in the park -- Dale my ranger friend and I, n
ot content to let evil-doers rest unpunished, detected the footprints of human and .......DOG!! So we tracked the nefarious canine sympathizers up to the top of Cerro, in a merry little loop all the while through knee-thigh deep wet snow that we were postholing, or sinking up to our eyeballs in, and then back down, only to find, to Dale's chagrin and my relief and amusement, that they had cunningly been but a few steps ahead of the entire time, outwitting and outslogging two (2!) of Bandelier's Finest. I postulated that it was quite possible it had all been a daring ruse, clearing the path for increased canine activity at the base in our absence. I also don't care one way or the other, and the sight of a grown man equipped with badge and gun gallumping off into snow-drifts after a poodle makes me laugh. The story was told ad infinitum around the water cooler and donut rack back at headquarters; can you believe they had the gall, those boys?
i have figured out how to haggle my way onto the gubmint photo sharing device. no doubt i shall be added to the no-fly list for this one.
Some illustrative gumbo from my first week here on the ole' ranch of Ignatz and Krazy; let us delve right in to our elbows. These hark from a hike down into lower Frijoles Canyon -- which shall be hencefoth referred to in the English only -- past a waterfall or 2, to the murky and boobling rio grande, home of the nuclear catfish. Snow is still pretty deep up in the hills; earlier in the day, up on Cerro Grande -- the highest point in the park -- Dale my ranger friend and I, n
ot content to let evil-doers rest unpunished, detected the footprints of human and .......DOG!! So we tracked the nefarious canine sympathizers up to the top of Cerro, in a merry little loop all the while through knee-thigh deep wet snow that we were postholing, or sinking up to our eyeballs in, and then back down, only to find, to Dale's chagrin and my relief and amusement, that they had cunningly been but a few steps ahead of the entire time, outwitting and outslogging two (2!) of Bandelier's Finest. I postulated that it was quite possible it had all been a daring ruse, clearing the path for increased canine activity at the base in our absence. I also don't care one way or the other, and the sight of a grown man equipped with badge and gun gallumping off into snow-drifts after a poodle makes me laugh. The story was told ad infinitum around the water cooler and donut rack back at headquarters; can you believe they had the gall, those boys? 
Also featured; Dale's recount of his days with "The Special Ops", apparently a crack squadron, handpicked from the ranks of Abert squirrels and mule deer, at the beck and call of the federal government to apply ultra-super-duper security at certain events, like the fourth of July and the Annual Lower Mesa Jelly Wobble. The Brown Berets', if you like -- the kicker was the back when they had been called to the dedication of a Native American memorial at the site of Custers' memorial. The third day of the event, featuring speeches by members of the Lakota, Crow, and Sioux tribes, was shaken to its very core by the arrival of scores of jeering C
usters' that converged on the spot in rusty pickup trucks, sporting all shades of moth-eaten costume and mustache. Nothing happened, but it could have.
The last 2 pictures are of a couple of petroglyphs, and my winterhome cabin, at the base of the now Anglicized mid-Beans Canyon. Yesterday Dale took me out to a teeny trail right next to the highway underneath Los Alamos. We walked out about 1/4 of a mile, and there were caves with the most incredible, UNTOUCHED cave art. There was one with an enormous depiction of a hunter with a giant erection spearing a buffalo, all across the ceiling of the cave. All the
ones I have seen in the park so far are defaced to some degree, and
he says these are untouched because nobody knows they are there, and that there are literally thousands like this all over. I cant wait till I get out into the backcountry to my cabin and start exploring; it will be mid next week. Sent me a post card, let me know where you are. The smell of the resurgence of living things in the spring desert sun is incredible; you can see life beating in the air.
usters' that converged on the spot in rusty pickup trucks, sporting all shades of moth-eaten costume and mustache. Nothing happened, but it could have.The last 2 pictures are of a couple of petroglyphs, and my winterhome cabin, at the base of the now Anglicized mid-Beans Canyon. Yesterday Dale took me out to a teeny trail right next to the highway underneath Los Alamos. We walked out about 1/4 of a mile, and there were caves with the most incredible, UNTOUCHED cave art. There was one with an enormous depiction of a hunter with a giant erection spearing a buffalo, all across the ceiling of the cave. All the
ones I have seen in the park so far are defaced to some degree, and
he says these are untouched because nobody knows they are there, and that there are literally thousands like this all over. I cant wait till I get out into the backcountry to my cabin and start exploring; it will be mid next week. Sent me a post card, let me know where you are. The smell of the resurgence of living things in the spring desert sun is incredible; you can see life beating in the air.
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