In the Arizona Desert the folks...

here call it "Fall Ball" However when an El Niño inspired cold front blew in with droopy clouds and wind chill breezes; it felt like winter. Finding a seat was no problemo when the Scottsdale Scorpions took on the Surprise Saguaros. In fact only the brave and or stupid (I lean toward the stupid side over brave) were on hand to see the cold contest. 

The ball players had to attend. There were MLB scouts on hand. The scouts came equipped with speed guns and stop watches to check out the local talent. This is where the long road to the "Biggies" begins. 

Today the weather was more muy buen. I had a toasty frolic among the rock formations and the cacti. 

This sure beats real winter.

Stay warm,

Jeff

It's not the years but the...

miles.

I've got a lot of mileage on this minute body of mine.

Back in the day prior to my accidents, (http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2015/07/four-years-ago.html), I reckon I rode a bicycle over a quarter of a million miles. I had a ten year stretch where I pedaled over 100,000 of those Old English measuring units. Now that my love of the two-wheeled vehicle has been beaten out of me; I hike and I do it a lot. As an astute old buddy of mine once said, "Jeff hikes like a monkey on crack." 

The scratches, gashes, soreness and sprains keep coming. But I have an Rx for all those maladies and complaints. I ignore them. This is how I fight the good fight against aging. I keep moving. I'm a believer of Newton's Laws of Motion. 

Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.

I think that external force is A-G-E. 

Yep, I'm 61 today, and I'm afraid of slowing down. 

Cheers on the ides of November,

Jeff the Birthday Boy.

PS. The photo of the Milky Way was graciously provided by Amber Lyle. It gives me perspective that I'm not that old in the Big Picture. 

PPS. Fido didn't score any Alpo from my ad campaign. Poor porcelain Pug.

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2015/11/poor-fido.html

On Friday the 13th..

I brought a rabbit's foot, a four leaf clover and a wish bone on yesterday's  ramble. After all I was going into the Superstition Mountains Wilderness. One can't be too careful in an area where gold mines go missing, let alone a little dude like me. 

The "Sups" are legendary for mother lodes that somehow become forgotten. Talk about senior moments! The Lost Dutchman Mine is the most famous tale of "Holy Crap! Where did I put that mine?" 

Down through the decades scores of adventurers have gone out in search of that hole of wealth. Many died in gold vain. (A little miner's humor there). One was found with two bullet holes in his bleached skull. That's a high price to pay for a potential piece of jewelry. 

With all of this in mind, I tossed in a flashlight, an extra layer of warm clothes, matches and the above mentioned good luck charms into my daypack. Of course, I forgot my maps! 

Somehow, I made it out fine and in one piece. I didn't rediscover any mine. I did find a lot of peace and solitude in those 12.5 miles of trekking. These days, that's a good thing.

In lieu of yesterday's atrocities in Paris, wilderness areas are looking better to me each day. 

Be safe out there,

The world is becoming scarier and I don't mean the wild places.

Jeff

PS: last photo graphically shows why Arizona hiking would not be a good idea for someone who is a hemophiliac.