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Surprise College Souvenir Takes Me to The Great Wall

Posted in Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , on October 17, 2011| 1 Comment »

“The moments of happiness we enjoy take us by surprise. It is not that we seize them, but that they seize us.” – Ashley Montagu

A piece of the Great Wall of China in Walla Walla, Washington. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

Call me weird if you like, but I think the ladybug I find on the rose is even more beautiful than the rose itself. And it’s not just because I know that ladybugs eat the aphids that eat the roses. It’s mostly because coming across a ladybug is usually a surprise.

I like surprises. Seeing things I don’t expect to see. It’s actually what I enjoy best about travel.

Now that doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy seeing the magnificent sights travel is all about. One wouldn’t want to go to Yellowstone and not see Old Faithful, or to New York and not see Niagara Falls.

But the little unexpected things along the way are what put the magic in any journey.

One of the more surprising surprises I got in September took place in Walla Walla, Washington.

I went there with my friend, Sherry, who lives in Milton-Freewater, Oregon. As we drove the eight miles from her home to the larger town to do some shopping, we got to talking about the places we wished we could afford to visit in the near future.

“Ayers Rock in Australia and the Great Wall of China top my list,” I said.

“Oh! Would like to touch a piece of the Great Wall,” she asked?

She then took me to the Walla Walla University, from which she had graduated.

The UFO above an eye exam sign on a Wal-Mart in Roswell, New Mexico, was a jolly fun surprise. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Hidden in a bushy alcove, on the brick wall of a campus building, was indeed a piece of the Great Wall. It had been incorporated into the building as one of the bricks. Above it was a plaque that read: “A piece of the China Wall, donated in 1941 by John L. Christian, Class of 1936, missionary to Burma.”

The touch of the rough, gray rock felt magical, and my fingers tingled.

My brain, however, was thinking that such casual taking of a piece of history today could land one in serious trouble. Of course things were different back then, when everyone was expected to bring home “real” souvenirs, like a piece of lava from Craters of the Moon or a rock-hard log from the Petrified Forest.

Back in the 1940s,  the “Take nothing but memories, leave nothing but footprints” motto hadn’t yet become conservation’s cry.  While I’m glad it’s now the standard, I’m also glad I got to actually touch a piece of China’s history.

It was a magnificent surprise to add to my travel memories.

Perhaps one day I’ll get to touch the actual wall. Of course, given my current economic reality, that would indeed be a surprise.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Possibilities

Posted in Art, Weekly Photo Challenge, tagged , , , , , , , on October 16, 2011| 6 Comments »

My shadow and Maggie become part of the basket ball court art. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 “ Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” – Pablo Picasso

Travels With Maggie

The park across the street from my son’s home in Lake Jackson has a basketball court, but I’ve never seen it used for that purpose.

 

The big green snake with big teeth -- Photo by Pat Bean

Perhaps that is why some young artists – I suspects students from the school next door to the park – decided to brighten it up a bit. While I was away for the summer, they dabbed the rough cement court with color.

The bright images include a river running across the court, a few houses and trees, a hop scotch layout and a couple of gigantic snakes, the kinds of things young artists have been doodling on paper since they could hold a crayon.

I found it enchanting – and so in tune with the week’s photo challenges about possibilities.

 

Grackles join the cacophony of color -- Photo by Pat Bean

“A picture of many colors proclaims images of many thoughts.” – Donna Favors

 

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A Sassy Squirrel Taunts Maggie’s Patience and My Thoughts

Posted in Favorite Hikes, Nature, Wildflowers, tagged , , , , , , on October 15, 2011| 8 Comments »

“If we had a keen vision of all that is ordinary in human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow or the squirrel’s heart beat, and we should die of that roar which is the other side of silence.” – George Eliot

Some squirrels can be downright sassy. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

Unlike all the other squirrels my canine traveling companion, Maggie, and I approached in the park early this morning, one didn’t quickly scamper away at the sight of us.

It held its ground, engaging us in a stare off. We got to within about 20 feet of it before Maggie could stand it no longer. With a sudden spurt of energy, she raced toward it.

She had 25-feet before her retractable leash would pull her up short, but she stopped before she hit the end. I think she knew, even before she started the chase, that she didn’t have a chance. She’s had a lot of experience with sassy squirrels during our many walks.

A small widow's tear blossom beneath a bush finally got my brain off squirrels and onto the wonders that Mother Nature always surprises me with when I take a walk. -- Photo by Pat Bean

The squirrel, which of course had headed up the nearest tree, was now looking down from a low branch chattering away in what could only be scorn for our intrusion. It had decided we were trespassers, that it owned the park and we had no business being here.

What, I wondered, had made this squirrel challenge us while all the others ran away.

It was like asking what makes some humans adventurous and some timid, why some of us love roller coaster rides and others shun what they consider such dangerous tomfoolery.

I often see parallels between animals and humans. I guess that’s why they’re often used to describe us humans, as in sly as a fox, slow as a snail, graceful as a cat, stubborn as a mule or swift as an eagle.

I never heard one, however, comparing us to a squirrel. What, I wondered would the adjective be: Sassy, brave, quick or foolish came to mind.

That squirrel hadn’t just taunted Maggie, it had taunted my brain.

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The Long Green Thing Surprise

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on October 14, 2011| 3 Comments »

 

 “The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another’s desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain, and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.” – Erma Bombeck

D.C. with his long green thing during one of his Army deployments.

Family Memories

“Hey Mom, I brought back a surprise for you from Afghanistan,” was the message I got from my oldest son, D.C. I was in Idaho at the time, and the only thing I wanted from Afghanistan was my son, home, safely.

Later, I wondered what the surprise could be.

“It’s a long green thing,” my daughter-in-law, Cindi, hinted.

It took a few minutes, but then I burst out laughing.

“Oh, you mean his Christmas stocking,” I said.

This is a thing that goes back many, many years, back to the time when my son was a pre-teenager. It was a time when money was in extremely short supply in our family, and so our Christmas stockings were just that – everyone’s own clean sock. And the kids always found the biggest ones they owned to hang up.

Now D.C. always was an ingenious kid. He chose his long Boy Scout knee sock, but decided it still wasn’t big enough. So he cut the foot off one of the socks and sewed the rest of the stocking to the top of the other one. It was such a brilliant idea that he didn’t even get punished for the deed. I think I filled it up with oranges that first Christmas.

The pillow, given to me by my oldest daughter, Deborah, that sits on the couch in my RV. Laughter is good for the soul is my motto.

In the meantime, as kids do, D.C. grew up, joined the Army, married, had kids of his own and made the military his career for the next 35 years. It was during one of his three tours in Iraq as a Blackhawk helicopter pilot that I came upon that long-forgotten green stocking.

As a joke, I filled it up with goodies like smoked oysters, canned chili, Vienna sausage, nuts, toy cars, hand warmers, a Pez dispenser and a heck of a lot of other stuff and sent it to him that year for Christmas.

He’s made sure the stocking was returned to me every year since.

I guess in thankfulness for my son’s safe return from the war zone, his upcoming retirement and all the laughter that stocking has provided the family over the years, I’ll have to fill it up yet one more time.

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Seven “Big Years” Chasing Birds

Posted in Birds, Books, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 13, 2011| 6 Comments »

“A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, as if supported by the rays of the sun, a bird settled on the fire escape, joy in the task of coffee, joy accompanied me as I walked.” Anais Nin

Snowy egret at the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge in Utah. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

The landscape around the Texas Gulf Coast home of my son, Lewis, is always full of birds. It is why my binoculars are always sitting beside me when my RV, Gypsy Lee, is parked in his driveway.

Wrens, woodpeckers, warblers, hawks and ducks all visit or pass through his yard.

This morning, Carolina wrens inspected the gutters over his garage, a pair of cardinals sat on the utility wires attached to his roof and a flock of black-bellied whistling ducks flew overhead, alerting me to their presence with their high-pitched chorus as they winged past in V-formation.

Is this a photographer taking picture of birds, or a birdwatcher photographing birds? -- Photo by Pat Bean

The park directly across the street from my son’s home offers even more entertainment for this passionate birder: Logger-head shrikes hang out in the trees, mockingbirds frequently chase away a red-tailed hawk when it comes around and goldfinches hang around the feeders in the yard next to the park.

I sometimes think I might be mistaken for a peeping Tom, or in my case a Jane, because I might appear to be looking in someone’s window when I’m simply watching a ruby-throated hummingbird flitting around the flowers.

If you really want to know how crazy we avid birders are, you should go see the movie, “The Big Year.” It’s about competitive bird watching. Or you can read the book, “The Big Year: A Tale of Man, Nature, and Fowl Obsession,” written by Mark Obmascik. It’s actually a true story and I couldn’t put it down once I started reading.

 

Great-tailed grackles near Surfside, Texas. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Recently, when I was down at the beach – to watch birds of course – I watched another bird watcher as he tried to take a picture of some skimmers. Watching him was almost as much fun as watching the skimmers myself. I wondered if he was more photographer than birder, or more birder than photographer, like me.

We birders are actually a funny, but much blessed lot. The day I realized I had joined the craziness was the day I took a 440-mile, one-day, round-trip drive just to see nesting ospreys.

In fact, many of the 122,000 miles I’ve put on Gypsy Lee the past seven years have been in pursuit of birds – from the elegant trogons in Southeast Arizona, to the marbled murrelets on the Oregon Coast, to the Atlantic puffins in Maine, and the Florida scrub jays in the Everglades.

It’s been one great feathered adventure after feathered adventure.

Perhaps that’s why, at least for a little while, I’m content to simply watch birds from the comfort of my RV that is parked in the driveway of my son.  

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Heads Up: Is It a Longhorn or a St. Bernard?

Posted in Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , on October 12, 2011| 7 Comments »

 “I would be the most content if my children grew up to be the kind of people who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves.” Anna Quindlen

Longhorn wall hanging at the Salt Grass in Pearland -- Photo by Lewis Bean

Travels With Maggie

The Texas longhorn’s mounted head at the Salt Grass in Pearland caught my attention last night. Eight Beans, the human kind, had gone there to celebrate my daughter-in-law’s birthday.

As we waited, beneath the bull, I thought of all the other animal trophies I had seen hanging from walls. This particular steer, I suspected, was there as a symbol of the restaurant’s No. 1 menu item – Steak!

It was certainly in poor taste if looked at through the longhorn’s eyes.

My mind thinks about such things as this when it’s not otherwise occupied. Everyone, I thought, has their own ideas about decorating and the trophies they show off — including me.

Hanging in the only spot in my RV that can hold anything is a caricature of me drawn by cartoonist Cal Grondahl. It shows me as a bird in honor of my bird-watching passion, and goes well with my “trophy’ list of how many birds I’ve seen since 1999.

The St. Bernard's head that hangs on the wall in the Shooting Star Saloon in Huntsville, Utah.

And then there’s my list of all the states I’ve visited – only three more to go to make it 50. I would have to say these qualify as my trophies.

During my travels around the country, one of the more common wall trophies I’ve seen over the years is the mythical jackalope. If you don’t know, or can’t guess, it’s a stuffed jackrabbit with antelope horns attached. I’ve always wondered why some people think this is so funny.

I’ve even come across a stuffed rattlesnake and a huge alligator used as décor. That’s just creepy.

I'm sure that there are those who will think the caricature of me as a bird is as strange as a jackalope.

But by far the strangest mounted head I’ve come across is the one of a 300-pound St. Bernard that hangs in the Shooting Star Saloon in Huntsville, Utah. This bar, built in 1879, is one of those sights, if you’re ever in the neighborhood, that you really shouldn’t miss.

The giant St. Bernard, very beloved by his former owner and once listed in the Guinness Book of Records because of his size, is called Buck. So if you go, be sure and ask for the Buck Booth.

And be sure and order a Shooting Star hamburger. It’s been rated one of the best hamburgers in America. I’ve had one, and I agree.

And if the Buck Booth is filled, you can always sit beneath a black bear or an elk and simply admire Buck from a distance.

By the way, what’s hanging on your walls?

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Passion Has More Than One Meaning

Posted in Travel, tagged , , , , , , , on October 11, 2011| 6 Comments »

“Chase down your passion like it’s the last bus of the night.” Terri Guillemets

My old raft's last tumble among the waves, July 2007, Snake River near Jackson, Wyoming.

Travels With Maggie

One of the great things about growing older is discovering that passion doesn’t always have to involve sex. It can be anything that gets your blood pumping, your heart racing and gives you immense pleasure.

My greatest passions these days include writing, family, friends, Maggie, travel, books, birds, learning new things and nature. I’m grateful for each and every one of them. They give both meaning and joy to my life.

When I was younger, passion had only one meaning – and it came with a lot of angst. It usually does when there’s another person involved in fulfilling your own wants and needs. And that’s especially true when you’ve made wrong choices about whom to love.

My friend, Kim, and I, sit in the raft -- filled with water as it always was after a big rapid -- one last time.

Thus it was in 1983, at the ripe old age of 44 ,that I found myself without the soul mate I always expected to have in my life – but didn’t. The five children I had with a non-soul mate had all flown the coop, and my second attempt at connecting passion with a soul mate had just ended badly.

I was totally on my own for the very first time. And then passion found me.

I was invited to raft down a stretch of the Snake River with a friend – and I fell passionately in love with white water.

Camping was always part of the rafting agenda. This photo was taken at the East Table Campground beside the Snake River in the Targhee National Forest

Within weeks I had bought my own raft, and for the next 20 years, it never missed a summer going down at least one stretch of white water, often more. There were always plenty of friends willing to help paddle.

And oh the adventures we all shared. We never tire of telling them again and again.

They all came back to me in a flash yesterday when I was sorting through my photographs. Among them was a file I hadn’t opened that my friend, Kim, had sent me of the retirement party that we gave for that old raft in 2007.

Many of those who had paddled it came for the celebration.

As I reviewed the photos that had been taken at the party, my eyes moistened. That raft was what taught me that passion had more than one meaning.

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My Grandson, David, Weds His Sweetheart

Posted in Journeys, tagged , , , , , on October 9, 2011| 11 Comments »

“True love stories never have endings.” – Richard Bach

I'm not sure who took this picture of my grandson popping the question, but my thanks to them for capturing a picture that's worth more than a thousand words. I couldn't resist writing about the wedding simply so I could post this photo.

A Day to Remember

I watched my third oldest grandchild get married yesterday evening.

As it should be, the bride, Sheila, was beautiful and the groom, David, was shaking in his new suit.

The “girls” had a breakfast earlier in the day, and the “boys” a lunch. At the breakfast, Sheila was worried, as are all brides, about what could go wrong. I told her that at least one thing SHOULD go wrong to make the wedding memorable.

The ceremony, however, went off without a hitch. Too bad, I was thinking.

But then, when it came time to take the photos, someone remembered the boutonnieres for the men’s lapels and the corsages for the women’s dresses that had been forgotten.

“See.” I told Sheila.  “Your wedding turned out perfect after all.”

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Lake Mono Kicked Off the Bucket List

Posted in Birds, Lakes, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , on October 8, 2011| 8 Comments »

“Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.” Wallace Stevens

 

Looking down on Mono Lake from the Highway 395 overlook. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

My trip back to Texas from my summer in Idaho was a hurried affair. Usually I plan on arriving for my winter rounds with family just in time for Thanksgiving But a grandson’s wedding, which takes place tonight, moved that up by about six weeks.

Even so, I managed to knock two things off my to-do list, now more popularly called a bucket list, on my way back to my native Lone Star State.

Mono Lake and Yosemite National Park now have check marks beside them. .

It may be easier for some of you to understand why Yosemite was a place I wanted to visit than it is to understand why Mono Lake was on my list. After all, it’s simply a shallow, very salty, often smelly lake As we neared the lake basin, My canine traveling companion, Maggie, perked up at the smell, wrinkling her nose a bit as she caught the scent. . I’m not sure what she was thinking.

 

California gulls along the shoreline -- Photo by Pat Bean

 The odorous shoreline, however,  reminded me of Great Salt Lake, a place whose beauty I came to greatly appreciate while living next door to it for 25 years.

The Utah lake is larger and much younger than the smaller and much older California lake. Both, however, are part of the Western Hemisphere Shorebird Reserve Network that provides habitat for millions of migratory birds.

About the only species I saw on Mono Lake, however, was the California gull, which incidentally happens to be Utah’s state bird. It was given the honor after Mormon settlers in the Salt Lave Valley credited the gulls with saving their crops from a cricket infestation.

Neither lake has an outlet, and so remain the depository for everything that flows into them. Their importance to the ecosystem, however, has in recent years led to conservation practices engineered for their protection.

Mark Twain, in his “Roughing it,” called Mono Lake “a lifeless, treeless desert … the loneliest place on earth.”

I think otherwise.

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A Greener Landscape and a Wandering Mind

Posted in Birds, Journeys, Nature, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , on October 7, 2011| 3 Comments »

 “A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.” – John Steinbeck

My wandering mind waa on green jays as i drove Highway 36 toward Lake Jackson. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

With my canine traveling companion, Maggie, snoozing away in her co-pilot seat, I left Harker Heights, and my oldest son’s home, early for our drive to Lake Jackson, and my middle son’s home 250 miles away. It’s a very familiar drive for me, one I’ve made many times.

As I passed oil rigs, grazing cattle, cotton fields, mesquite trees and roadside sunflowers that let me know I was in Texas, I was glad to see the color green still existed. It had been missing on my drive two days earlier down Highway 190, clear evidence of the dastardly drought the state has been suffering. .

To all Texans living where heat and drought has scorched the landscape, I just wanted to show that green does still exist. This is the view from my RV window in Lake Jackson. -- Photo by Pat Bean

While admittedly things weren’t quite as lush as I remembered from past drives down Highway 36, the landscape was still a far cry from the brown and dying cedar trees, lack of grass and stunted and yellow cactus that had dominated my entry back into the Lone Star state on Tuesday.

The driving this day was easy with little traffic. As usual under such circumstances, my mind begins to wander. This day, it went south to the Rio Grande Valley, perhaps because I was thinking about when I would be able to go there and do some winter birding.

From Lake Jackson, where I was headed, it’s only a half day’s drive. I would have to see what bird festivals were going on down there in the coming months, I thought as I drove.

My mind must have still been with the fantastic green jays down there when I came to the Highway 35 turnoff, because I took it. I was looking for it in fact.

Oops!

I then realized that what I had actually been looking for was the Highway 36 turnoff that I always took when I returned from the valley. But then I had already been on Highway 36.
I guess I should have been paying more attention to where I was than where I wanted to go.

Anybody else out there have a mind that plays tricks on them like that?

If so, I hope you have a traveling companion like Maggie. She never yells at me when I take a wrong turn.

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