Meadows Mishaps

April SEAHA note from the editor

In the heart of the Gila Wilderness there is an ancient caldera that forms a deep canyon several miles across. Those that venture in and stand on the rim can see hoodoos pointing up from the sides of the abyss and the riparian glimmer of river beaconing far below. The rocky fingers snap me from the trance of the green below, and question, "you again? Are you sure you want to do this again?" The first time I was in the meadows it was with prior knowledge my backpacking days were numbered. My knees were starting to give out when carrying weight. Therefore I left the tent behind; sleeping under the stars, or rain, would be worth 6 pounds saved. Hours later at the rim my aching knees let me know it wasn't enough, but we headed down the steep trail to the bottom. There I threw my pack off, stiffly extended my legs as I sat in the grass, and prepared to die. It didn't help that my companions were close to 20 years older than me and were fine. I popped a prescription painkiller, wondering if being 6 months out of date would be a problem. Maybe age boosted the drugs effectiveness, causing the psychedelic experiences to come. All I got at the time was a severe stomachache. That night I planned my sleeping spot carefully, near the fire, but not too near. I have a lot of backwoods experience, but had always used a tent too keep the bugs off. And the eastern skunks, but that's another story. I instinctively needed something over or around me, so I laid my bag beside large driftwood log. Gus and Li called goodnight from the safe comfort of their tent as I passed out, bag cinched tight over my nose. Keeps the skunks out. My slumber ceased as a large branch from the log fell on me, broken off by something…or someone, clattering and creating a ruckus all around me! Bear or skunk, something was attacking. I know enough that making serious noise will scare off either, so I started yelling. My half-awake mind could think of only one statement: Yee-haw...yee-haw? YEE-HAAA! I yelled over and over trying to unzip my bag so I could see. Gus started calling, "Garrett, what's going on?" I fought my way out, threw the log off, and found…it was gone. Several elk had apparently wandered into camp, spooked at the smells and jumped my log getting away. Elk prints were everywhere in the morning. The last time I was in the meadows was two years ago on Horace, packing cricket, to give my knees a break. Nancy and Dennis joined me on their horses. The trip down off the precipice was a thrill-a-minute, several times the horses were practically doing headstands and other circus tricks over the stair step boulders. We made it, and had a nice night at camp. Dennis' horse needs his room going up, so Horace and I stayed back. Cricket had torqued me off so much the previous days I turned her loose to scramble up the trail on her own. She curiously stayed back too. One switchback ahead of us Dennis and Kiowa met the steepest section, and it won the fight. Horace and Cricket's ears went into full alert as Dennis struggled to keep Kiowa on the trail. To no avail, he stepped off on the high side as Kiowa rolled and slid down the slope in front of us. Attentive but calm ears and eyes followed the horse's slide in front of us and down the next level. Kiowa wedged safely in some downed timbers. The next time I go to the meadows may be the May 14th SEAHA ride. Who's game!?

My Girl's Careers

The quality-time ratio goes down after the first child, or two, and I've forgotten to do some of the parental things with Hope that I did with Nathan and Amelia. A minute ago she was painting with one of those cheap watercolor palettes, with the little divots of color compound; just add water. I suddenly thought to ask her what she wanted to be when she grows up. I looked forward to the answer, as it is a little ongoing experiment I have with my girls to try to solve the perennial mystery of gender. Do girls gravitate towards girl stuff because of family or societal pressure, or some unknown natural inclination? This theory is predicated on believing that they do act more feminine. I have never pushed Hope to be girlie. Sarah is a tomboy, her biggest thrill this week was changing the flat on my Miata by herself. My girls are equals in our recreation. They camp, ride the mules, play with their outdoor toys with similar enthusiasms as Nathan. They are inquisitive about the advanced topics we discuss at the dinner table. So when I asked for her vocational desires I expected to hear anything from fighter pilot to engineer. Holding her fingers up, she ticked off the first and second choices, a gymnastics instructor or a ballerina. Never been to either event.

Water Worries

March SEAHA note from the editor

I was just listening to Petey Mesquite on KXCI. If you've never heard his Growing Native radio show, think of the Baxter Black of desert horticulture and ecology. A consummate plant and animal lover, his 5-minute segment this Saturday was on the Santa Cruz "river." Petey talks about the Bosques that used to rim Tucson's river 100 years ago, full of wetland plants and animals. I have no trouble visualizing a healthy river system; the Bosque de Apache near Belen, NM is the winter home of thousands of Sand Hill Cranes, Arctic Geese, ducks. Seventy-five miles south of there we used to wade into the chest-deep Rio Grande to gather the 3 foot catfish from the trot lines we'd set the night before. The Santa Cruz must have been like that once, the bones of 6-foot sturgeon have been found at an abandoned Indian pueblo near Tucson. One hundred miles south of Bosque de Apache the Rio Grande hits Las Cruces, where unfortunately it is going the way of the Santa Cruz, we often called it the "Rio Sande." The last time I was there, quad-runners plied the sand where we caught catfish 10 years ago. Petey's commentary also reminded me of some recent trail ride water worries and how quickly we forget the pervasive necessity of water. Water is a fact(or) of life. A pre-urban legend tells that Indians broke green horses by walking them into deep water before mounting the first time. The truism that every animal species can swim from birth, except man, is not that deep a mystery. An animal is not afraid of and usually won't drown in water, unless man is involved.
We quickly overlook our need for water and cancel plans in frustration when it clouds up. I was in the Navy in Hawaii for several years, and went scuba diving most weekends. Sometimes we'd wake up Saturday morning and look out a hatch only to find a gray, dreary day. "Aww, I guess we better cancel our dive plans," I'd say to my dive partner. With characteristic pragmatism, Smitty would say, "Why? We're gonna get wet anyway." I sometimes see the glass half empty... of water. I even bailed out of the Catalina trail ride, because it was raining. But I actually love the rain, its scarcity in the desert makes it all the more exhilarating, this spring's rides will surely be colorful. Change the months and Chaucer tells it best;

When in April the sweet showers fall
That pierce March's drought to the root and all
And bathed every vein in liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower

With this winter's sweet showers we can be confident of plenty of flowers to make our spring rides spectacular.
This month SEAHA is helping build the Arizona Trail, perhaps one day our club will be able to help rebuild another, more liquid trail, the Santa Cruz river.

Here One Year

One year ago today I started out at Raytheon. My mind has gotten some needed challenge, my heart has appreciated the reduced stress, my social life broadened. We'll maybe that one hasn't happened as much as one would suppose working at a site with 10,000 employees. Two root causes are we are in a building removed from most of the action, and I'm just so darned busy.
It's funny, but in 1989 when I got out of the Navy I thought briefly about working for Raytheon, who made the system I'd been working on. I miss working directly for a military customer, but it could be worse; there is a Slimfast plant in town. Of course, our products are exclusively used by the military, I just don't have daily interfacing as I once did.
The company does some things better. Change is embraced at a level slightly more than skin deep. In my previous jobs it was paid lip service or aggressively resisted. Working on projects like the EKV are definitely interesting. The fact that it may one day save millions of Americans is too big to wrap your mind around.
The company does some things worse. It does resist change in a few critical areas, like giving all employees internet access and email. A big problem for trainers. But on the whole, what was at the time a very uncertain decision, feels pretty good. Is it perfect, no, but good enough for government work.