Monday, October 11, 2021

Acuweather? Fahgettaboudit!

Punxsutawney Phil? Nothing more then a scamming, overweight and pampered groundhog.

The Weather Channel? This organization would go bankrupt if they were only paid for correct forecasts. 

So WW J, whom do you trust for the long term weather outlook? 

Glad you asked Dear Curious Reader. I consult Pika Predictions.



“You can observe a lot by just watching.” Yogi Berra.

This past summer I spent an inordinate amount of time hiking, camping and sleeping above tree line. In this realm of thin air, cooler temperatures and sparse vegetation you’ll find pikas. That is, if you know where to look. I do. 



But first! A thing or three about these mammal meteorologists. American Pikas are related to Bugs Bunny minus the long ears, fluffy tail and asking “What’s up? Doc!” They are heat weenies. Pikas will suffer when the temperatures approach 80 F. Hence they live at high attitudes. Unlike those sunbathing chubby marmots, pikas do not hibernate. That’s why marmots have the luxury of saying, “Pass the tanning butter, please.” Pikas are slaves to the seasons. There are no days off. During the brief snow free summers, they are collecting, stacking and storing grasses, weeds and wildflowers into their snug burrows. They are small, energetic and adorable. (Like me!) Between their farming gigs, they must be ever vigilant to the hawks, eagles, foxes, weasels, bobcats and unleashed dogs who might make an appetizer out of them. 



It ain’t easy being a Pika.  This is why they are my favorite mountain mammal. It ain’t easy being me either. 




Here’s some of my observations; i saw packs of  Pikas darting around in a frenetic, over-caffeinated state. Oftentimes those fur balls had green vegetation clenched in between their teeth. The Pikas were on a mission. They were telling me in a silent way, “OY! Jeffy! We are working our tuchases off (butts in Yiddish) so we can nosh (eat) in this upcoming meshuggenah (crazy) early winter. We’re sorry to be kvetching (complaining). 





But since you’re a Landsman (fellow Member of the Tribe) we’ll take a break from harvesting
to tell a joke. Jeffy! Do you know what’s a Jewish American’s Princess’ favorite winter wine is? “I wanna go to Miami!”



The Pikas spoke but are their predictions correct? Last year, our fall continued dreamily into December. Maybe I needed a second or third opinion before I quickly booked a VRBO this winter in Snobsdale, AZ. 

So I continued to observe and watch. 

In mid August I spied a pair of badgers. Their fur coats were heavy and thick, they waddled away instead of ran. 

By mid-September hummingbirds went missing from my feeders. My favorite birds must have caught a southern tailwind to Mexico. By now they are drinking a sugary form of Corona beer at some south of the border beach. 

In Durango, by mid-September our daytime highs dropped from 80’s to 60’s. There was no temperature decade of the 70’s. By the end of the month, the San Juan Mountains had a measurable amount of snow. Starting in mid-October Durango will endure a cold snap with nighttime lows in the 20’s. 




That diverse group of animals called this. We are in for an early winter. This is why I’m writing this post from the Utah desert. I’m not ready to come in out of cold…yet.

Stay warm and keep those home fires burning.
Jeff 







Saturday, October 2, 2021

The Covid Summer of Not…

Quite Right.

When the  trifectas of Covid vaccines were made available in early 2020,  I White Man jumped to score mine. I received the two Moderna fixes in Cortez, CO. I gladly made the 100 mile RT drive to get jabbed. Hell, at that point I would’ve driven to eastern Kansas. I wanted out of Covid isolation. I desired a return to my old self. Being a Sociable Hermit instead of a 24/7 Covid Hermit.

I then sat back with a satisfied and protected grin waiting for my fellow Americans to climb on board the Vaccination Train. Well, that didn’t happen. As of this posting merely 55% of Americans are fully vaccinated. (Source CDC.) The US recently surpassed the 700,000 deaths due to Covid benchmark. This is not something to be proud of. 

Of course I had an opinion about this: 






As summer approached, I started out with high expectations of an increase in human contact. (After the shutdown of 2020,  that bar was set extremely low.) I made phone calls, sent texts and emails to acquaintances, possible dates and volunteer organizations as a form of reaching out. The reply rate was seriously underwhelming, as in mostly no reply. Neighborly talk of happy hours and dinners at brewpubs, remained just that. Talk.



Was this the result of Covid’s social distancing hangover? Maybe. Maybe not.

I’m a sensitive guy who deplores being ignored. After going through a period of feeling lonely again. I woke, took a sip of coffee and gazed at the rising sun and thought, “There’s no place I’d rather be than in Durango, Colorado on a sunny summer’s day. I’ll load Sanctuary Too (my truck and camper) for a high country hike and camp out.” My motto became, “Tis better to be alone outside in a pretty place, than to sit at home alone.” So that’s how I spent my summer. I slept more often in Sanctuary Too than in my bedroom in Durango. I chose campsites seven miles away and three thousand feet higher than my nearest neighbors. The sunsets and sunrises were  magnificent. 



For above tree line social encounters, I did a handful of gigs as a Colorado Trail Angel. I’m pretty sure I appreciated the act of giving more than the hungry hikers appreciated the PB&J sandwiches I provided. Here’s the blog:




Now as the days are perceptually getting shorter and cooler, I’ll set off and venture West behind the Zion Curtain of Utah.



There’s so many places to explore, so little time.

Which brings this post back to Durango and Covid. 

It’s been over two years since I gave up the “Homeless by Choice” lifestyle and settled down in Southwest  Colorado. In that time I’ve become quite fond of the vibe, energy and easy going nature of this small city of 19,000. It’s been a great fit for me despite a pandemic which,  I’ll just say it. Socially Sucks. 



But as much as I love Durango, I love the surrounding areas even more. Mountains, deserts
and the canyons in between. It’s all right here. Location. Location. Location.

Cheers and stay safe out there,
Jeff