Homer's Travels

One More Picture To Go On The Classroom Wall

2009-11-09T18:16:00.001-06:00

One of the Wife's ex-students, who wanted to intern at This American Life, sent this to the Wife today. She was beside herself with giddiness. (The names have been changed to protect the innocent.)

Not really fair since I've listened to probably ten times as many episodes as she has but, hey, she knows the right people and I don't.

Book: Eric Weiner's "The Geography of Bliss"

2009-11-05T20:49:00.002-06:00

When I think of happiness, I generally don't associate it with a place. True, a place can facilitate happiness but happiness, and unhappiness, can occur everywhere. With this preconception I read about NPR reporter Eric Weiner's search in his book "The Geography of Bliss: One Grump's Search for the Happiest Places in the World."

Weiner starts his search in the Netherlands where a professor has compiled a database of happiness and has ranked nations by their level of happiness. The author proceeds to travel to different countries to ask the question "Are you happy?" He picks different countries based on their happiness level and the apparent reason for their happiness to illustrate the different things that make us happy. Freedom, drugs, orderliness, philosophy, religion, money - all things that contribute to the happiness of people but, as expected, all these things make it easier to be happy but doesn't really make us happy. In the end, happiness is home, family, and friends.

Each chapter covers a different country. The most interesting of the chapters was a contrary one - Moldova, a country near the bottom of the happiness scale. Weiner went there figuring that he would feel happier once he'd experienced the Moldova Gloom but Moldova just drug him down into a deeper pit of curmudgeoniness. After reading this chapter, I can safely remove Moldova from my list of places to go.

I like Weiner's style. He is a grump with a sense of humor and I was smiling through most of the book. I like curmudgeon humor. I can't say I learned much about happiness from this book but I was entertained and my happiness level, for a brief moment, was boosted.

Mildy recommended when in need of light reading.

The Dance Of The Travel Magnets

2009-11-04T18:31:00.001-06:00

We were getting a little tired of not being able to see our refrigerator. The fridge door and part of its side were covered in travel magnets. It wasn't very attractive but it was a conversation piece.

The Wife asked me to built some kind of display for all of them. I don't consider myself too handy. I can fix leaks and do simple repairs but decorative things ... I ain't so hot. I eventually relented and started working on a display. The Wife would say I whined, moaned, and complained the entire time ... and she would be absolutely right. Even after I completed the project I wasn't very happy with what I threw together but it does work.

To celebrate the completion, I put together this rather crude animation I call "The Dance of the Travel Magnets." Enjoy.

Our complaint now: The refrigerator looks so naked.

Will I Will Or Will I Won't?

2009-11-03T15:28:00.001-06:00

Yesterday the Wife and I met with a lawyer and signed a bunch of papers - powers of attorney, and medical stuff in case one or both of us get hurt. The Wife also signed a will. I did not.

We'd been talking about wills for quite a while. I've probably have been thinking about it for over a decade ... probably since we've been married 12 years ago. When it got time to decide how my estate would be spread around, I drew a blank ... a big zero ... total emptiness. Obviously, if I leave this world first I want my half to go to the Wife. I don't need a will for that. If the Wife goes first, her will covers her half. If we both go together, well, my half is kind of up in the air. It would go to my next of kin, many of whom I would never put on my list ... even the extended list. Besides a list of who I don't want to get my estate, I got nothing.

It's frustrating. On the one hand I'll be dead and won't give a damn what happens. On the other, should I care? The Wife thinks so. I know my indecision is irritating to her. Should I just pick some random charity and hope they don't waste it? Should I pick cousins I hardly know?

I don't know what do do.

And Away We Go ... To Jordan

2009-11-02T18:34:00.002-06:00

Today I stopped by AAA and put a deposit down on a tour. Where are we going? Jordan. Next June we are taking an eight day tour of Jordan.

This trip will have several firsts for me. First flight across an ocean. First flight longer than six hours. First time in Asia. And on the way back, first time in Europe - a least for a few hours in an airport.

I'm really looking forward to this trip. I really need to get out of the country and experience something new ... really new. For awhile there I thought I'd picked the wrong name for my blog.

Travels, Day 27, On The Way To Guatemala

2009-11-01T15:11:00.001-06:00

Mom's last entry:

Date: July 15, 1972 Saturday

Place: 3 AVE 6-77 zone 14

"We now have an address. Moved in today. [Dad] + I went to the house and cleaned cabinets and closets out. Workers are still working - furniture came. Boys + [Dad] unloaded the trailer + car while I put things away."

Mom's travel journal ends with us moving into our first Guatemalan home. It was a three bedroom duplex. The phone lines were a party line for the two houses and our duplex neighbors were Japanese. It was kind of fun to answer the phone and hear "Moshi Moshi". I don't think I have any pictures of our first house. Mom might have some. The closest I have is this:

View Larger Map

Sorry, I can't get any closer than that.

My nine years in Guatemala were a mix of good and bad. I think when I left in 1981, after graduating from High School, the bad stayed with me more than the good and in the vain attempt to forget the bad, the good faded as well. All I have left are little bits and pieces of good times mixed in with the shards of memories I long to forget. The sad thing is most of the bad was self induced. I could have had a wonderful adolescents full of friends and adventure but I chose an introverted, shy, anti-social, life style. I had friends, good friends, but I let those friendships end with the ringing of the last school bell.

Now some thirty-eight years later Facebook, of all things, has reintroduced me to some of those good friends. They remember me in a better light than I remember myself. Some, who I considered bullies at the time, what to reminisce about the good ol' days. Go figure. I guess we all mature as our memories fade.

So what do I do? I scramble to piece together the scraps of good memories that have survived in my muddled brain. I try to regain what I have so carelessly thrown away. In the end I shake my head at the futility of it all and mourn what I've lost.

Photograph: Hay! A Jack-o-Lantern!

2009-10-31T10:01:00.003-05:00

Happy Halloween Everyone!!

Hay! A Jack-o-Lantern!
by Homer-Dog

Hiking Nebraska: Indian Cave State Park - Revisited

2009-10-29T21:09:00.007-05:00

This week I went back to Indian Cave State Park, a place I'd visited September of last year. Last year I went there blind and discovered once I got there that there were several long trails in the park. While I only managed a 5.8 mile hike last year, this year I went intending to double that, aiming for the 11 - 12 mile point.

I arrived at trailhead #5 just after 9:00AM. It was a little chilly with temps in the upper 30s but the sky was clear and I knew the weather was ideal for a long hike. Trail #5, known as the Hardwood Trail, was where I'd hiked last year. My intention was to hike the length of trail #5, part of #9, #11, #10, #8, part of #3, and finally #6. This combination of trails would give me a meandering loop with the desired mileage.

Trail #5 was much like I remembered it but there were some differences. Last year I kept running into spider webs stretched across the trail but the cool weather we've been having has sent the spiders packing. There also was a lot more evidence of horses on the trail - both horse exhaust on the trail and torn up hills where the horse's hooves had torn up the muddy trail. The hills where the horses had stirred up the thick, clingy, clay mud were hard to climb, both up and down. The holes left by the hooves were full of rain water from recent weather, and my boots and walking pole kept getting stuck in the thick mud.

The trail moves up and down ridges, passes by campsites and shelters in the thick forest. The parts of the trail that hadn't been stirred up by the horses, were covered in a thick layer of leaves. It was kind of pretty. I like the sound of rustling leaves as I shuffled my feet along the trails. Took me back to my childhood.

There are mile markers along this trail. The first matched my GPS (GPS: 2.05, Marker: 2). The next, a 3 mile marker, was off (GPS: 2.55). Further on I ran across another 3 mile marker (GPS: 2.74). At this point I decided that the markers were pretty useless. At the same time my GPS wasn't much better at the trees and the ridges were recking havoc with the reception. The uselessness of the markers became apparent when I found the 5 mile marker next to the 6 mile marker farther down the trail.

About three and a half miles in, that's my best guess, I ran into a junction not shown on the map. I hate inaccurate trail maps. I made a guess and ... it was wrong. The trail came out to the park road. I pulled out the map and managed to reorient myself. The unexpected detour had bypassed a mile of trail. I found the nearby trailhead #9 and took it back, grumbling all the way, to where I wanted to be.

The trail goes up another ridge - I lost count of the number of ridges - where it crosses a large meadow. There's a campground in the meadow and I wondered what the sky looked like at night, away from all the city lights. I'm

sure the milky way would look incredible up there. Almost makes me want to be a camper.

Across the meadow, trail #9 ends at a junction with trails #10 and #11. Despite being a short there-and-back trail that didn't contribute to the loop, I took #11 because it offered two things - a scenic overlook and the park's namesake, Indian Cave. Trail #11, is fairly easy for the first 0.6 miles it takes to get to the scenic overlook. From there it drops steeply down the hillside on a mud and leaf slicked trail 0.2 miles long. As I went down I was dreading the return trip that I knew was ahead. No switchbacks here. Oh no. Straight down the hillside.

The trailhead is at the end of the park road. I walked down the road a short distance and walked up the wooden stairs that took you to the broad but shallow mouth of the Indian Cave. While you could still see a couple of the petroglyphs, most of the cave was defaced by graffiti and modern carvings. Sad how history is rarely respected. Frankly I'm more interested in petroglyphs than who is dating whom.

After a brief rest and snack, I went back up trail #11 and, after a lot of huffing and puffing, returned to the meadow. Here I turned north-west up trail #10, continuing on my loop. This trail took me to one of my favorite places in the park. Before dropping down the side of the ridge, the trail reaches a campsite. The site is near one of the many Adirondack shelters located in the park. Unlike the other shelters, this one has a fire pit and a bench, but the best feature of this site is the view. It was a little too late to see the fall colors but the view of the forest and river was still amazing.

I followed trail #10 back to the park road, crossed a bridge, and found the trailhead #8. At this point you have a choice. Trail #8 goes to the top of yet another ridge. Trail #8A will take you around the base of the ridge. #8A looked a lot easier and probably has better views of the river. I really don't know because I took the trail up the ridge. I can be a masochist sometimes.

At the top was another campsite and another well placed bench. I plopped down on the bench and ate another snack bar. The bench had yet another amazing view, this one to the east. In the foreground, the Missouri River; on the far shore, past stands of autumn naked trees and a chute, a past channel of the river, Missouri farmland stretched east dotted with shiny metal silos; and on the far horizon, a farm of a different kind, a 21^st century farm, a wind farm, white turbines twirling in the wind.

The rest of the hike was a blur. Past a couple more meaningless mileage markers, Trail #8 ended and #3 started. Another junction and I was on #6. #6 took me over another ridge before ending at the park road. A half mile on the road took me back to my car. Along the whole hike I probably went up and down ridges at least six times, probably more. I was beat when I got to the car. I guesstimate that the hike was about 10.7 miles, a mile or so less than I'd planned. Elevation was about 400 ft peak to trough but, all the ups and downs probably made it more like 2,000 ft.

Pictures can be found here.

All Good Things ...

2009-10-28T18:39:00.001-05:00

A few years back I got hooked on This American Life. The radio show is funny, thought provoking, and educational. This is especially true with the recent shows covering the economic collapse and the healthcare cost issues. I started listening to them back in 2006. I managed to download most of the episodes from a website that had scraped the radio show's archives without permission. Literally the day after I downloaded some 288 episodes, the site was pulled down at the request of Ira Glass. Fortunately for all, an RSS feed was set up to allow listeners to get the new episodes each week. Even with the RSS feed, I've ended up with only 367 of the current 392 episodes. Some of the very early shows are lost. Others, I just missed the the RSS feed. (NPR only keeps a current episode available for a week. - There are ways to listen but not a way to download for my collection.)

My listening was sporadic. For awhile I listened to them while walking on the beaches in Oxnard and Ventura. Other times I listened to them while doing chores. For awhile there I thought It would take many years to finish listening to them all. As I listened I moved through time, something I noted in Homer's Travels.

Finally last year, once I retired, I started to get a routine going. I listened to four episodes per week while I cleaned the house (Kitchens and Bathrooms - two episodes. Dusting and Vacuuming - two episodes). Today just over three years after I started, after mopping the kitchen, entryway, and bathroom floors, I finished - I caught up to the present. I now have a sense of loss. An empty void.

I saw this coming of course. I reached this point earlier than expected but I am somewhat prepared. I have started to download other podcasts. Most of them are NPR. Some current events. Some music. Some culture. Of course, This American Life will continue, a few new episodes a month, but I suspect I will miss having Ira drone in my ear while I clean the kitchen counter or empty the vacuum cleaner. Other voices will be there but it just won't be the same.

P.S. I was introduced to This American Life by the Best Man. It is only fitting that the day I finish my last saved episode, the Best Man was hired to a new job. Great News BM.

Travels, Day 26, On The Way To Guatemala

2009-10-27T20:02:00.001-05:00

Mom's travelogue continues:

Date: July 14, 1972 Friday

"I went to the laundry while [Dad] + the boys went to the airport - [Dad] is inquiring about flying lessons.

We all swam in the pool. In evening [Dad] + I went to meat market, grocery + new house. Delivered the refrigerator today."

Very soon after moving to Guatemala my Dad learned to fly. This was more out of necessity than pleasure but it was obvious to me that he liked to fly.

In Guatemala, back in the 70s at least, the capital, Guatemala City, had all the amenities. The agricultural areas were located in the southern half of the country bordering the Pacific Ocean. You could not really live full time on the farm. No electricity except for what you generated yourself. No running water except for what you pumped yourself from wells. No telephone. No schools after the 6th grade. Commuting was difficult as the roads between the city and the farm were not the best. It usually took four hours to drive from the city to the farm. The only other alternative was to fly. When you flew over the farms in southern Guatemala, the grass air strips could be seen everywhere. The flight from the city to the farm was just under 30 minutes. That is why my Dad learned to fly.

Brrraaaiiinnsss ...

2009-10-25T12:52:00.001-05:00

Despite the unforecasted late afternoon drizzle, the Zombies were out in force in north Omaha. I drove up there to document this walking of the Zombies.

The zombies gathered outside the Pizza Shoppe in the Benson area of Omaha before going to the back alley to get instructions from the head zombie. Rules included stay on the sidewalk, act like a zombie, walk like a zombie, chase victims (marked with a duct tape 'X') when they are seen, and no English allowed except for the occasional moaning of "Brains". The Zombies, after receiving the rather informal briefing, moaned their assent and the zombies began shuffling along the route.

It was fun. People honked their horns when they saw the shuffling dead people and some people in parked cars were swarmed. There were enough zombies to fill at least two blocks worth of sidewalk. The zombies varied from your standard bloody dead guy to zombie nuns, zombie Jesus, zombie doctors, zombie nurses, zombie soldiers (someone in the crowd commented that they hit a little too close to bad taste with the Iraq and Afghanistan wars and all), zombie brides, zombie kids, and zombie Waldo (Where's Waldo? He's been dead for a for years it appears). Some of the people took it very seriously and other were there for fun and put in minimal effort. No matter how much effort they put into it, everyone was having a good time.

Some pictures can be found here.

Next year the Wife and I may have to participate. I've never been one to dress up for Halloween but there is something intriguing about dressing up like mutilated dead people, moaning, and shuffling along a one mile loop. Who knew that bloody head wounds could make so many strangers smile and honk their horns..

Travels, Day 25, On The Way To Guatemala

2009-10-24T15:38:00.002-05:00

Mom's travelogue continues:

Date: July 13, 1972 Thurs.

"[Dad + Brother] went to do some stuff up town. [Homer-Dog] and I walked to book store and grocery store.

Swam in pool in the afternoon. [Dad] got sunburned.

We went to Spanish class. Worked on verbs - don't think I'll ever learn."

Hmmm ... I wonder if this is when my book reading habit started? Actually, it started a few years later when I discovered Star Trek books. Fortunately, after many ... many ... many Star Trek books later, I've finally moved on to more substantial reading though my love of Science Fiction is still very strong.

Hmmm ... I'm also the grocery shopper. That's just because the Wife doesn't like to shop while I don't mind it much.

Mom, was there a reason Brother and I didn't join you for the Spanish classes? I think it might of helped once I started school. I suppose the classes were just for adults.

A Raccoon Coincidence ... Or Is It ?!?

2009-10-22T20:44:00.001-05:00

Last weekend, while attending the ND-USC football game with her dad, the Wife hit a raccoon with her car. It did a number on her bumper.

Two days later I come come from walking Homer and I see a raccoon hunkered down under the front overhang of our house. Since it didn't look like it was going to move on its own, and we thought it might be injured or sick, we called animal control. The raccoon decided it didn't like the attention it was getting from Animal Control and scrambled away, making its escape.

Yesterday I was walking Homer and, three doors down, there was Mr. Raccoon. He was standing in the middle of the neighbor's front yard. Homer barked at it and it just stood there and stared.

Coincidence? Stalker Raccoon? USC Fan? Only time will tell.

Travels, Day 24, On The Way To Guatemala

2009-10-21T18:44:00.002-05:00

Mom's travelogue continues:

Date: July 12, 1972 Wed.

"We went with Mr R. to buy furniture - Sort of nice picking furniture out + not paying for it. Got Kelvinator refrigerator, Diningroom table + chairs (very spanish), sofa, 2 chairs + coffee table, 3 mattresses, headboards + 4 night stands.

Mr R. introduced [Dad] to the lawyer + [Dad] inquired about residency of Guatemala.

Boys swam in pool. In evening [Dad] + I went to Spanish class - Still seems impossible.

Rained most of late afternoon."

Guatemala basically has two seasons, rainy and dry. The rainy season runs from May through October. When I was going to school the rain would start just before I got on the school bus to go home and would rain for hours. This means I would often have to walk home from the bus stop in the rain. I remember getting home soaked to the skin. Guatemala City is at 4,550 feet and it would get pretty chilly at times. I don't miss being cold and wet.

Travels, Day 23, On The Way To Guatemala

2009-10-17T16:25:00.005-05:00

Mom's travelogue continues:

Date: July 11, 1972

"[Homer-Dog] + I went to the laundry. [Dad] went to the bank + opened an account. [Brother] fixed a flat tire on his cycle. Stem was pulled out.

We swam in the pool, sunned for awhile, then we looked at some furniture. Found some we like.

After supper [Dad] + I went to Spanish Lesson. I think I am impossible. Spanish sure seems hard."

I learned Spanish by watching the television. At least, that's how I started. When I started school in Guatemala, soon after moving in to our new rental house, I suffered through Spanish classes.

A funny thing happened when I first started school. My parents were contacted by the school. They were concerned that I may have a problem. I was misbehaving, talking to the other students, and I wasn't obeying or even responding to my teachers. My Mom asked them what language my teachers were talking to me in. The school representative said Spanish of course. Apparently no one had told my teachers that I didn't understand Spanish. I didn't find out about this until recently. I do remember being taken out of classes by someone, I remember her being very nice, and helping me with my Spanish. Being a young boy I picked it up rather quickly. It is always easier for children.

There is one thing that irritates the Wife. I always tell her that I don't speak Spanish very well. It's the truth. Most of my Spanish was picked up by watching television, not a very interactive way of learning a language. I was very shy growing up and I tried my best not to have to speak Spanish in front of people. I got in trouble more than once for refusing to read aloud in class. I though my accent was terrible and my vocabulary often was lacking. To make it worse, I surrounded myself with friends who spoke English. So I became pretty good at understanding Spanish but I've never been comfortable speaking it.

I then moved back to the States and in the twenty-eight years since I have slowly lost my vocabulary. I read posts from old Guatemalan classmates on Facebook and I can hardly understand them, though a lot of the problem are the idioms (i.e. the slang). I've had to use Google Translate to read some of them. I guess I'm an example of "use it or loose it."

Book: Iain M. Banks' "Use Of Weapons"

2009-10-16T14:42:00.005-05:00

I don't often give authors more than one chance to grab me. If their first book doesn't meet my expectations, they go to the bottom of my list. I make few exceptions and, for some reason, I gave Iain M. Banks three chances. I'm glad I did.

I've posted about the other two Banks books here and here. Neither of these really wowed me but I am intrigued by the universe Banks has created. My third Culture book, "Use of Weapons", added to this universe and did it in an interesting way that captivated me.

The book follows the life of Cheradenine Zakalwe, an agent for the Culture Special Circumstances. The book is organised into two story streams. One takes place in the present (the Present of the book, not our present) and the other expands on Zakalwe's history. At first I was confused. The second stream follows his history in reverse. Both streams have different chapter numbers and the second stream's chapters are numbered in reverse so I should have seen it coming but the first four or five chapters confused me. As I got more into it, things finally clicked into place and the story sucked me in.

Zakalwe, recruited by the culture to 'influence' primitive world's social evolution, often by starting or ending wars, is the first interesting Banks character I've read. As I read on, I wanted to know more about him and frankly, I liked him. He is brash, unscrupulous, and effective at what he does. A sort of an heroic anti-hero. Unlike the protagonists of the other two Banks books I've read, Zakalwe is well written and interesting.

The book ends with a twist. I suppose it was telegraphed but I was so engrossed that I missed it and was caught somewhat by surprise - pleasantly so. I won't say what it is, don't want to ruin it for anyone, but it fits.

Banks has earned the right to stay on my list. I will be reading more of his books. Recommended.

Travels, Day 22, On The Way To Guatemala

2009-10-14T15:06:00.002-05:00

Mom's travelogue continues:

Date: July 10, 1972 Mon

"We talked to Mr R. owner of a new house we looked at. He agreed to furnish it for us. We are to pick out the furniture and Saturday we can move in. Zone 14 3 ave 6-77.

We looked at furniture in evening. [Dad + Brother] went for a motorcycle ride + had a flat tire. Had to push it for 2 miles."

When I'm on my bike, something the weather has prevented lately, I always fear that I'll get a flat when I'm 10 - 15 miles from home and will have to walk back to the house pushing my bike. I've fixed that by buying a patch kit and a small air pump for my bike. I don't think I worried about that when I was a kid. I got plenty of flat tires but never very far from home.

The house was pretty cool. Like most house in Guatemala City, it had a tall wall around the yard. Our wall was brick with random bricks sticking out a half inch or so. This made it possible for an eight year old boy like me to climb the wall. I liked walking along the top of the seven or eight foot wall. I'm sure I made my Mom nervous. Strange thing is, as I got older I developed a mild fear of heights. I shake when I'm on a ladder and my palms sweat even when I see someone on a high ledge.

I miss the fearlessness of youth.

Travels, Day 21, On The Way To Guatemala

2009-10-11T16:02:00.001-05:00

Mom's travelogue continues:

Date: July 9, 1972 Sun.

"Slept late. [Dad] rode the motorcycle to some houses. We swam in the afternoon - felt good.

Alba went with us to see a house. Just what we want but rent is high.

Alba works at the motel and offered to be our interpretor for us after her working hours.

We stopped and got chicken to bring home to eat."

I used to like to swim. when I was little I grew up on a lake and once I learned how to swim it was hard to get me out of the water in the summer time. One of our resort customers described me as a fish.

We spent a lot of time in the Plaza Motel's pool. 8 of the 27 entires in Mom's travelogue mention swimming. After we settled into out Guatemala home, my parents bought a boat and tried to keep our love of the lake alive. We would go to nearby Lake Amatitlán on weekends to swim, boat, ski, and fish. We parked our trailer on a vacant lot next to a friend's lake house for a while. I learned to ski here - I was never very good. Over time it just lost its luster to me. The lake, and the life we once had, faded into the past.

As I've grown older, I've lost the joy of swimming that I once had. I still like swimming but I don't go out of my way. My in-laws have a lake house on Lake Cornelia. I have been there several times and, by personal choice, I have yet to get in the water. I think I've matured from a lake swimmer to a hot tub soaker.

It's Coming Early This Year

2009-10-10T14:10:00.003-05:00

This morning we had our first snow of the season - a full 50 days earlier than last year. It was fairly substantial dropping over an inch of snow. The streets and sidewalks are still warm so they remained clear.

The weather this year seems to be off. Not sure if it's climate change, el niño, or just normal variation but I do know that's it's been wetter and cooler than last year. Forecasts I've seen are all over the place - colder and wetter, colder and drier, and even milder than normal. Meteorologists aren't much better than economists - both dismal science. Based on my observations I'm betting on colder and wetter. Maybe this year I'll have an opportunity to break in my Christmas snowshoes. Not today though as it's already starting to melt away.

Hiking Iowa: Waubonsie State Park And Wa-Shawtee Girl Scout Camp

2009-10-09T10:29:00.003-05:00

For the past few weeks I've been doing hikes in places I'd already posted about: Hitchcock and Fontenelle Forest. This week I finally hiked a new park.

Located in the south-west corner of Iowa, in the southern end of the Iowa Loess Hills, Waubonsie State Park offers seven miles of hiking trails and another eight miles of equestrian trails. The trails take you through the Loess Hills, down into valleys, and up ridges offering spectacular views. On a clear day, something that I've found is much more common here than in California, you are able to see territory from four states, Iowa, Missouri, Nebraska, and Kansas.

I arrived with a map [PDF] downloaded off the Iowa Department of Natural Resources website. I'd planned my route the night before trying to maximize the length. I would skip a smaller loop near the parking lot and start on a medium size loop made up of the Valley Trail and the Ridge trail. I would then connect that to the larger Sunset Ridge Interpretive trail. I was hoping to squeeze out at least six miles.

After finding a cache near the trailhead ("L&C Waubonsie State Park") I followed the sign to the start of the Valley Trail. As its name implies, the trail winds down through a forested valley. As I walked along the path the signs of autumn were all around me. A brisk temperature in the lower 40s. A blanket of fallen leaves carpeting the trail underfoot. The yellowing of the once verdant leaves in the canopy overhead. It felt good. I was reminded why I hike - to restore my soul and reconnect with the world ... the real world, not the pseudo-world of CNN, MSNBC, and FOX.

I reached a junction. The signpost was there but the sign was nowhere to be found. A sign at the trailhead had apologized that maintenance had been cut due to budget shortfalls - another victim of the recession and the pseudo-world. On the sign post, an arrow was scratched pointing to the right branch seemingly indicating where I should go, so I went. The path took me up a ridge line past sycamores and cottonwoods. The trees along the path blocked the view of the hills across the valley but peeks through the foliage showed hints of yellow and red that were starting to appear.

The path dipped down and took me to a flight of stairs descending to a bridge crossing a creek. After the bridge the trail ended on the shoulder of IA-2. This wasn't on the map. A sign at the trailhead had pointed the direction of the Bridge Trail which I apparently was on. The Bridge trail was not marked on the map. The map said that the trail that I thought I was on should have curved to the west and connect to the Ridge Trail. I could not see where the trail continued. I sighed heavily and backtracked to the junction and went the other way. I passed another junction on my right that looked all wrong so I passed it and ended up at the overlook.

At the overlook there were placards talking about the Loess Hills and the Lewis and Clarke expedition (The Lewis and Clarke expedition went through this area). The views from the umbrella like shelter were impressive. Steep tree covered valley walls, the Missouri River, and the beginnings of the great plains beyond.

At this point I gave up on the medium loop. I think I'd walked the smaller loop with a detour to the bridge. I continued south along the trail finding the trailhead of the Sunset Ridge Interpretive Trail. The trail shadows a park road through wooded and prairie areas. The road turns west and the trail becomes the shoulder of the road until you reach its end. I sat at a bench near the continuation of the trail and had a drink of water and a small snack. The wind was starting to pick up. Wind speeds in the low 20s were in the forecast. I hadn't felt them on the trail as the trees made for a great windbreak.

I continued down the Sunset Ridge Trail. The trail dropped down a hill covered in restored prairie grasses. When the trail bottomed out it re-entered the forest. The narrow path followed the valley floor briefly, passing the remains of an old root cellar. The bunker-like cellar was dug into the side of a hill with a concrete facade. There were the remains of an old ornate gate that may have been over the entrance once upon a time. Kind of looked like a hobbit's house.

The trail rapidly climbed the ridge. At the top was another plaque about the Loess Hills and a bench where you could sit and look over the farm fields that replaced the prairies. The view faced the west and right away I understood why this was called sunset ridge. Almost makes me want to come back sometime to watch the sunset from that bench.

From here the trail widens and winds through more forest and meadows. The trail joins itself completing the larger loop. I walked back north and decide to search some more for the medium loop. I passed the umbrella-like structure and took the junction I'd passed earlier. This trail took you down then up to the top of another ridge. This ridge was rather narrow with sharp, wooded drop offs on both sides. At the peak of the ridge I sat at another convenient bench (There are many along the trails, most well placed) and took in the amazing view of the valley, made by the ridge I was on and Sunset Ridge, across the way. You could see a large meadow adjacent to the nature center that was once the Wa-Shawtee Girl Scout Camp. The 646 acre camp was purchased by the park in 2005.

Further along the trail, a trail I had determined was the Ridge Trail, part of the medium loop, ended at a "Trail Ends" sign. Once again I thought I'd missed the turnoff for the medium loop so I was more careful on the way back. There is no connector. There is no medium loop. The map appears to be wrong. I ended up going back the way I came going around the small loop the opposite way that I hiked in on.

In the end, I did the small loop twice, two parts of the non-existent medium loop, and the large loop. Total distance was 6.1 miles with a peak to trough elevation gain of about 430 Ft. I will have to return to hike the equestrian trails - they are actually listed as multi-use trails - and to double check the existence of the medium trail. Maybe in the spring the medium loop will reappear.

UPDATE: I forgot to link to the pictures. Here they are.

Travels, Day 20, On The Way To Guatemala

2009-10-08T12:03:00.005-05:00

Mom's travelogue continues:

Date: July 8, 1972 Sat.

Place: Guatemala City

"Mr R. from the rental agency showed us around today. Saw some beautiful homes - 2 we are considering. Mr R. speaks very little English so communication is not very easy.

[Brother] got his cycle back from Kawasaki Shop. Works great.

[Dad] + I ate out at Maria's - both had steak. My fillet was $3.00. [Dad's] T Bone was $3.25 about. Very good."

The meal the parents had illustrates another reason we moved to Guatemala. It might not have been an explicit reason, farming being the explicit reason, but a lower cost of living made the move easier and changed how we lived.

When we lived on the resort, life was hard for my parents. Income from the resort was very seasonal and second jobs were needed to make ends meet when all the guests had gone home. I think this was especially hard on my Mom who seemed to be always working. My Dad drove the school bus for extra income. Not sure I liked this as I was always the first on and the last off the bus.

In Guatemala Mom didn't have to work. We had a full time housekeeper/maid/cook to help take care of the house and another on the farm. I'm sure this spoiled me as I never really had to clean or make my bed while growing up. Labor was so cheap that it was nearly impossible to earn money doing summer jobs. Everyone had maids and hired gardeners. If you needed things done you only had to pay a buck or two to get it done. This might explain my somewhat poor work ethic.

Our life in Guatemala was easier in some ways and harder in others. I had it rather easy. I assume my brother had it easy too but, being a teenager, he probably had his issues. I won't speak for my Mom. I'm sure it was easier for her in some ways and harder in others. It seems to me that it was most stressful for my Dad.

Travels, Day 19, On The Way To Guatemala

2009-10-03T16:27:00.004-05:00

Mom's travelogue continues:
Date: July 7, 1972 Fri

Place: Guatemala City

"We looked at new furniture and used furniture - Looked at houses -

We put an ad in the paper for a house and also for a guide or translator.

We came back to trailer and watched TV. Green Hornet was on which [Homer-Dog] thought was neat. Terror Theater was on later - All in Spanish.

Lots of noise outside."
Green Hornet is awesome ... even in Spanish. Bruce Lee - totally cool. I think that's how I learned Spanish. I watched all these old American shows in Spanish. Green Hornet. Combat. Mission Impossible. The Three Stooges. Old horror movies. Guatemalan TV in the 70s was an eclectic mix of American, Mexican, and Japanese stuff. I remember coming home from school to catch the latest episode of Astroboy, Space Battleship Yamato (Who would have thought that 30+ years later they would be cult classics - Astroboy: the movie is coming out soon), or Ultraman (And his teammate Ultra Seven). On Sunday night I watched Lucha Libre and Chespirito. Now they can be watched on Univision. I guess what goes around comes around again ... if you wait long enough.

Music: Gordan Lightfoot At The Holland Center

2009-10-02T16:07:00.001-05:00

Last night we went to see Gordan Lightfoot at Omaha's Holland Performing Arts Center. I have to say choosing to attend this concert was a risk. While I was familiar with a few of his songs, my knowledge was limited. The Wife was in the same boat. I chose to take the risk because I wanted to check out the venue and Gordan Lightfoot seemed to be a good act to see there.

At 70 years old, Gordan Lightfoot is still pretty good. Usually when I go to a concert of an act I am not too familiar with, I am saved by either new songs that I discover I like or I find there are songs that I like that I didn't realize were performed by the artist. This is especially true with older acts. Unfortunately this wasn't the case this time. While there was a song I like that I didn't know he sang ("Carefree Highway") I ended up knowing a total of four songs (good songs mind you) but the rest ... well after the rather raucous concerts we've been to lately, his folk music was a little like walking through muck. He would say 1...2...3 energetically and then go into a s.l.o.w folk ballad. He mentioned his adrenalin was pumping. Unfortunately I didn't see it on stage.

Lightfoot and his elderly, but good, band performed for almost two hours with a twenty minute intermission. I think this was the first concert that I've been to with an intermission. The Holland Center, location of what I would describe as higher brow entertainment - orchestras and theater - feels like a place where intermissions are mandatory. At intermission we joked about leaving. We ended up staying the entire time but I have to admit that I almost fell asleep leaning forward with my chin propped up on my arms resting on my knees. I had to sit back because I thought I might really fall asleep and fall forward. Being on the second balcony, falling forward was not an advisable thing to do.

I know this review sounds like I hated his music. Hate is too strong of a word. It wasn't his age either. I enjoyed the Guess Who and Grand Funk who have some members as old or older than he is. It just wasn't my style. I think I have a more rock taste. Folk ... it has its time and place but last night was not that time nor that place.

Travels, Day 18, On The Way To Guatemala

2009-09-30T15:24:00.001-05:00

Mom's travelogue continues:

Date: July 6, 1972

Place: Plaza Motel

"Today we drove out to Bob M. farm. He was there alone. Betty was in the city. He drove us to a farm on shore of Pacific Ocean that is reported to be for sale. No house. Only a sand dune between ocean and headquarters.

We ate lunch with Bob - pork, cucumbers, mashed potatoes, black beans + lettuce w/hot dressing - lots of lemonade. He has a man cook - very good. Hot on farm - so dusty. They need rain. Cotton is about up 3 inches."

When I started this series, I was asked why we went to Guatemala. This entry deals with the reason. My dad was the only one of three brothers who did not farm. Before the move my parents ran a resort on the Lake of the Ozarks in Missouri. At my Uncles' suggestion, my parents decided to go to Guatemala to farm. Bob M. was a friend of the family and I believe he was instrumental in convincing my Uncles and my dad about the opportunities that existed back then in Guatemala.

While most of my family - Grandparents, Uncles - were farmers, I never was interested in that stuff. I think it was a little too physically demanding for me. Farming takes a very special type of person. I think my lack of interest in the family farm contributed to the gulf that opened between me and my dad.

What Makes A Great Weekend? Saturated Fat!

2009-09-28T15:49:00.003-05:00

This weekend was really delightful. It was highlighted with the visit of the Matron of Honor (MoH) and Best Man (BM). They drove down on Friday to get away from stuff at home - notably all the construction noise at their condo. It's nice to be the pressure release valve every once and a while.

The highlight of their visit was a trip back to Brownville, NE to attend the biannual "World's Almost Largest Flea Market" and "Animal Swap." We were accompanied by my Mom, garage sale and flea market enthusiast. The flea market was pretty impressive. Several blocks of vendors selling old stuff, rusty stuff, junky stuff, and all manners of cool stuff. We really didn't see any of the animal swap - disappointing. Maybe next time.

The day was a little drizzly at the start which kept the crowds down a bit but most of the vendors, probably over 200, were open for business. Since we wanted to look at it all we started with an early lunch at the Lyceum Bookstore and Cafe. I had a BBQ beef sandwich with chips. This is where it started. 49% of my daily allowance of saturated fat. It was yummy.

With our bodies refueled, we walked through the vendors and ended up buying some cool stuff for the house including an old ring of barn keys, an old rusty egg basket, a deep red mum to set in the rusty egg basket, and a framed set of old yard sticks. This last item is the neatest. It sounds, and is, a little odd. 10 Yardsticks stacked and framed like a picture. It will probably get hung up in our mildly eclectic living room.

After we got all shopped out, we headed over to the Dredge Meriweather Lewis just to find it closed. That's too bad since I think the BM would have liked the tour.

We headed out of town ... slowly. The bridge over the Missouri is being restored and it was down to one lane. As we crawled over the high bridge we didn't see any cars on the road ahead but we still moved forward. It was like some space-time anomaly. We couldn't figure out how we were moving ahead when there were no cars moving on the road ahead of us. We finally decided that a truck going into town must have jumped the light and had started up the bridge, stopped, then backed back down. Of course for the truck to back up the cars behind it had to back up as well so it took us a while to squeeze by the truck. I was a little disappointed that there wasn't some wormhole or time vortex involved.

We stopped at a truck stop for some snacks. Jumbo Milky Way bar. 61% of my daily allowance of saturated fat.

The evening was reserved for Notre Dame football. Dinner was steaks on the grill, mashed potatoes, and peas. 59% of my daily allowance of saturated fat.

The last straw for my diet was a trip to Dairy Queen. I had a medium Chocolate Extreme Blizzard. 130% of my daily allowance of saturated fat.

So for Saturday, I ended up with these numbers (percentages of my daily allowances):

Saturated Fat: 316%

Cholesterol: 168%

Calories: 146%

I'm surprised I survived. Was I more careful on Sunday you ask? Burger Lust with the brother in law, T_E, and family. 110% daily allowance of saturated fat. 129% for the entire day. I did stay away from chocolate and ice cream so I consider it a success.

The weekend was just right. It was one of those weekends where you smile contentedly when you reflect back upon it. The BM and MoH can visit any time. They're a great excuse to eat crap, talk politics, and to have a great time with great company. They just can't come right before my next blood test.