Water and Arizona's Hubris

Water of love deep in the ground

No water here to be found

Some day baby when the river runs free

It'll carry that water of love to me

Dire Straits 

From the summit of Mount Wasson (4,687 feet) a hiker can look to the west and see the physical results of the Central Arizona Project. 

The CAP is the largest and most expensive "straw" on the overused, abused and litigated Colorado River. The water is pumped uphill from Lake Havasu for 336 miles to its terminus south of Tucson.

For a state famous for sun, heat, conservative politics and little precipitation (Tucson gets about 12"of moisture/year. Phoenix around 8"), life for Arizona's 6.7 million inhabitants would be near impossible without the Colorado's supplementary water. 

In Tucson, the CAP water is placed in ponds to recharge the aquifer. When the CAP water was originally added to the city's water supply, the mixture didn't play well together. Water heaters went bad, rust in pipes broke loose, laundry was dirtier after being washed and the water's taste was worse than usual. 

So with all the trouble getting the wet stuff here, why is there so much water waste?

Come on Arizona! 

All those golf courses? 

Growing cotton and pecans in the desert? These thirsty plants require 23"-60"/year. 

Public fountains and artificial lakes? 

Homes with lawns?

I'm now reading "Cadillac Desert" by Marc Reisner. The book is a bit dated (he mentions the World Trade Center in terms of size) but the message is still clear. Water use in the Southwest is based upon a house of cards. The resource can't keep up with the increased demands. Rain doesn't follow the plow! 

The Santa Cruz River was once a perennial stream before all these people discovered Arizona. Now the only time it runs full time  is downstream of Pima County's water treatment plant. Maybe someone should warn that duck what he's swimming in. 

All this talk of water got me thirsty for an IPA.

Use water responsibly wherever you live. Well, maybe not in Ireland. 

My Tucson Pad...

Imagine if you will a capital "L." My centrally located loft apartment would be on the inside angle.

On The long side of the L is University Ave: Think Fraternity/Sorority Row, Troy and Buffy,  stores catering to the needs of UA's students, fast food restaurants, and of course bars and one brewpub. When I walk on this block, I can easily be called Grandad. 

On the other side is 4th Ave: Tattoo parlors, thrift shops, eclectic bookstores, thrift shops, restaurants running the gamut from Italian to Mayan, edgy bars, Gay bars, heavy metal music bars, biker bars  and Irish bars. There are no brewpubs. This is the Bohemian, pierced, tattooed, Goth-look and homeless side. (Remember I'm homeless by choice. There's a difference.) 

The two sides are as antipodal as one can get and still be in the same Zip-Code. In my three weeks here, I'm sure I'll vacillate between the two. It's kind of nice to sit in a College bar and be called "Sir" instead of the "Hey You!" I get on 4th Avenue. 

As far as my immediate neighborhood goes, let's just say I'm drinking my morning coffee the same time my neighbors are popping a can of Mikeaukee's Best beer. They are mellow and wave a good morning to me.

It's a people watching extravaganza whichever way I turn. 

Here's a few photos of me at rest in my humble abode. See: Sid and Clara are still watching over me as I read an IPPY award winning book.  Look closely it's "Destroying Demons on the Diagonal." 

Author! Author! http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2015/03/watching.html

Good morning from downtown Tucson,

Jeff

Mighty Seven Falls...

It's been called the Niagara of the west. (Not really). Out of the camera's viewfinder is a hydroelectric plant which generates enough electricity for the 38 million citizens of California. (Not Really II).  

What's true is: Seven Falls is the most visited attraction in the Sabino Canyon Recreation Area. This trickle of water can quickly become a raging river. In 2007, a flash flood swept two people away. Their fellow picnickers had to be rescued by helicopters from the torrents wrath. Like I've said many times in this blog; Mother Nature is beautiful if it doesn't kill you. 

I spotted my mentor along the trail. Hummingbirds are tiny, hyperactive and eat prodigious amounts of food. (Like me). They are always in motion unless in a state of torpor. 

I get a chance to sit still while I'm blogging, sleeping, reading or watching sports or a movie. Other than that I'm sort of in motion. 

On a eight mile hike, I returned with eight discarded plastic water bottles. An average of one/mile. What are these litterbugs thinking? 

Don't be a Litterbug!

I'm moving to my downtown Tucson pad today.

Thanks L&D for letting me hang with you for a few!

Good morning from the desert,

Jeff

They don't call them Gila

 Angels...

The call them Gila Monsters for a reason. My first day back in Tucson, and I chanced upon this character on the trail. They are venomous lizards with an attitude.  If these nasty reptiles were able to purchase weapons and had trigger fingers, they would make Isis look like a bunch of Boy Scouts. I gave this Dude a wide berth as he hissed at me menacingly. If they latch onto you, they won't  let go. 

The good news is their bites are rarely deadly.

I wasn't going to test that assumption though.

I've seen about a dozen Gila Monsters in the winters I was here. Two Desert Tortoises and one Rattlesnake. I like the Tortoises the best.

Hope you had a bite free Saint Paddy's Day!

"Someone's Watching ...

Over Me." 

Written by Kara DioGaurdi and John Shanks

I'm now in Tucson, AZ where I once spent four winter seasons. I arrived back here with mixed emotions. Other than meeting a few quality people and hiking a lot, the "Old Pueblo" was a bad luck charm for me. I had enough unusual misfortunes here, I've developed a case of the heebie jeebies about the place. I'm hoping this go-around will be different.

That's why I brought along my "A Team" to watch over me here and beyond. Sid and Clara Sambur wouldn't want anything, anybody or anyplace to harm their baby boychik (boy in Yiddish). 

If you are wondering what caused these feelings, ask! 

OY! The stories I can tell. 

Ever have to relearn how to walk after a medical miscreant performs a surgery you don't need? I was merely bruised and not broken.  I guess that's why they call it "practicing medicine."

That really bothered me....

There's other stories just not so dramatic.

Cheers! 

Jeff

It's not Squinty Eyes Dunes National Monument,

It's White Sands National Monument in New Mexico. 

Today, it was a gauzy sun day, and my eyes were slits. It would be brutal on a bright, sunshiny day. I would have to purchase a pair of Oakley sunglasses with their "thermal nuclear protection" not to be blinded by the light.

The brilliant color of the sand is due to gypsum. It's a rare form of sand since gypsum is water soluble. Here in the Tularosa Basin, there are no waterways to carry the common mineral away. The fine grain white stuff is trapped in a natural bowl for all to enjoy. 

The National Park Service loans plastic sleds for the tykes and grown up kids to use for schussing down the dunes. You gotta love it.

Half a million visitors a year do. 

Back to warm and sunny Arizona mañana,

Jeff

How do you like that centerfold shot of Barley?

Michelin Tires...

Are trying to kill me and Barley.

Don't buy Michelins.

I'm in Sierra Blanca, Texas trying to limp into El Paso.

I'm getting rid of all the Michelins left on Barley.

What did I ever do to France to deserve this?

"What a long strange trip it's been" II
http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2015/03/a-long-strange-trip-it-been.html

Be safe out there,

Jeff

I'm in Alamogordo, NM now. Texas was starting to get to me.