As I Ponder the Paucity

of Pikas.

As I Ponder a Paucity of…

Pikas.

I shift Sanctuary Too (my truck and camper) into 4X4 Low and  thump and bump along  into thinner air, cooler temperatures and above tree-line views and hikes. In this rarefied atmosphere (where Texans are visitors who do not remain. YAY!) are the homelands of the American Pika. In these highly exposed rumbly rocky regions is where I’ll see and hear pikas. Those minute hair bags are one of the reasons I’ll sleep on high passes where most oxygen craving folks won’t.

Who needs oxygen when you can hang with pikas?

A few weeks ago, I camped and hiked in Prime Pika Park Avenue Real Estate. Sure, I was there for the views and the solitude, but I wanted to reconnect with the little fuzz balls. The day was cool and overcast, (pika weather) as I negotiated an out and back nine-mile over 12,000 feet ridge line trail, I saw no pikas. Zero, zilch, zip, nada, nil and a total absence of 

Ochotona princeps.

This upset me, but before I pulled a Chicken Soup Little and declared ”the sky is falling! The sky is falling!” I decided to sleep even higher in order to gather more statistics. So that’s what I did. On another chilly cloudy with a threat of rain day, I hiked up to 13,000 feet from the low point of 12,600 feet. I saw a paltry amount of pikas. Three.

Before I go any further, let it be known of my few talents besides making Sambini’s World’s Famous Kosher Green Chili, I’m a Pika Whisperer. If you recall from my last Pika related post I scored an exclusive interview with Shlomo the Yiddish speaking Pika. Please read to reacquaint yourself:

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2021/10/acuweather-fahgettaboudit.html

Back to the story…

I returned to the original site and hiked the same nine-mile out and back ridge line. All in all I spotted only three Pikas, but one of them was Shlomo.

“Shlomo! How’s ba’ you? Where is everybody?”

“OY! Jeffie my landsman! So good to see you again. I’m not doing so well. My friends and family have succumbed to the warmer conditions. We are heat weenies! My fellow members of the tribe can’t handle temperatures over 78 degrees! You’ll never see a Pika at Miami Beach. We’re running out of higher altitudes. Sniff! I’m very verklempt over this.”

“Shlomo! That’s awful. I knew something was up. I’ll usually spot 20-40 of you along this stretch. Marmots and chipmunks have moved into your old turf. I miss you guys!”

“Jeffie! It’s not easy being a climate change indicator species. We are feeling the effects front and center. What will it take for you humans to stop being such shlemiels and take climate change seriously. It’s not a Chinese Hoax!”

“I dunno Shlomo. The world is a mess. I think Yankee stadium, Candlestick Park and Camden Yards will be underwater before Americans start to act. There’s too much greed and bad politics going around.”

“That’s why I’m worried.”

With that, I handed Shlomo my signature PB&Boysenberry sandwich and a Cutie orange. It couldn’t hurt and made me feel less guilty.

Let me say this. A without Pikas would be a less joyful one. 

Please vote correctly to make a change on climate change.

It’s happening now. Just ask Shlomo.

Last photos: 

I’m a conversational whisperer with wild burros, ptarmigans domestic sheep and desert bighorn sheep too.

In search of Happy Places…

When this old world starts getting me down

and people are just to much for me to face

I climb way up to the top of (Sanctuary Too. My truck and camper)

and all my cares just drift into space.

Up on the Roof

Sung by the Drifters

Lyrics by Carole King and Gerry Goffin

Face it, we’re not living in the “Leave it to Beaver” or “Ozzie and Harriet” or even the law and order sitcom “The Andy Griffith Show” days anymore. We have more concerns than worrying about Opie Taylor getting caught in a lie. 

Going about ones business has gotten more complicated. Life is as not simple as it once seems to be. To quote George Clooney from “O’Brother Where Art Though” 

“Damn! We’re in a tight spot!”

On the international scale there’s:

A daily climate change calamity. Flash floods, wildfires and dust storms. OY VEY!

The never-ending Covid Pandemic. 

A rise in chest thumping Nationalism leading to a Russian invasion of Ukraine. Thus triggering all sorts of shortages and further disruption of international trade. Plus the human  misery toll of needless death and destruction. All of this to fulfill another tyrant’s ambitions. (There sure seems to be a lot more tyrants these days too.)

On the National scene:

Speaking of tyrants. 

Trump the Loser who won’t admit as much, orchestrating the demise of democracy. Facts be damned. I want it my way. Sadly enough, a majority of Republicans kiss his ring and go along with this wayward unreality TV show. I can’t wait to see the new Treasury Bills. “In Trump We Trust.”

And furthermore:

The overturning of Roe vs. Wade. Gun owners now have more rights than women.

Hyper inflation.

The now hairline fracture between separation of church and state.

And the Merican Way of Gun Violence.

 And now on the personal front:

Back in August 2019, I gave up the Homeless by Choice lifestyle because…well, i was getting lonely out there. Upon setting up a basecamp in Durango, CO I sought guidance from that NY Times bestseller, “A How To Guide for a Wandering Wondering Jew to Meet Fellow Humans.” 

Chapter One: Immerse yourself in local events.

So I did and still do with a Covid timeout in between. 

I’ve attended: an Earth Day Celebration, the Dandelion Festival, Animas River Days, A Taste of Durango, San Juan Brew Festival (twice), Multitudes of Green Drinks, Durango Film Festival (twice), Bike Durango film and silent auction, a Celtic Festival, iAM Music concerts in Buckley Park, a Durango Trails 2000 Fundraiser ETC, ETC. 

I people watch , smile at the many strangers and generally enjoy myself. Yet, I’m not making any newbie connections. 

Chapter Two: Become a volunteer for non-profit organizations.

I do and did that too.

Book schlepper for the Friends of the Library book sales. When I’m on the job,  I’ll exchange stories/quips with the other hard working volunteers. When the gig is over, I limp away with a sore back and still feeling socially unfulfilled. 

Tree Planter and Fen Restoration Helper for the Mountain Studies Institute. (See above for results, plus multiple bloody lacerations.)

Forest Ambassador for the San Juan Mountain Association. I like this gig. I get to schmooze with mostly Pilgrim Hikers about Leave No Trace ethics. When I notice their lack of water, food and warm, dry clothes. I  break open my BIGLY day backpack. I’ll display to the neophytes what I’m carrying if Mother Nature throws me a four-seam high-heat fastball. 

To spot a Pilgrim, check the socks. Cotton=Rookie.

La Plata County Democrats Fundraiser. I was the guest bartender. Between giving ample pours, many smiles and pounds of Cutie oranges (there’s a lot of scurvy going around) I spoke to my fellow liberals. Social Result? Same as the above.

I commiserated with a Buddy of mine, he said, “Jeff! Don’t take it personally. It’s a sign of our times.” 

Another friend said it all so succinctly when describing a couple we mutually know. “They’re in their own there.” Meaning? In their own world. No need for outside intrusions. 

But I do take it personally. 

Fortunately, the other reason I moved to Durango was for its Four Corner, Colorado Plateau epicenter location to Jeffie’s Happy Places. No matter which direction I point Sanctuary Too, there’s a Jeffie Happy Place: Mountains, canyons, wilderness areas, National Parks and Monuments. It’s all within a half day’s drive of my Durango basecamp. Perfect. 

I don’t feel so alone when my needs are met. Solitude, Silence, Scenery=Serenity.

BUT! I’m pleased to report, I introduced Kwanhanumas to Durango. It was a rousing success. We even had Belly Dancers. 

Baby steps. Baby steps. Maybe one day, folks will ask me to join them for Happy Hour.

Until then, when I’m in a tight spot, I’ll go camping.

All the above photos were taken from Jeffie’s Happy Places.

When I was growing up in…

the Bronx. Sid (my father) would admonish me. 

“Jeffie! Don’t play in the street. But if you do watch out for the buses.”

Or.

“Jeffie! Drink your milk. It’ll make you taller.”

Or.

“Jeffie! Don’t get into fights. You’re small. You’ll get beat up.”

Sid never had to say to me. 

“Jeffie! When at active shooter breaks into Ms. Pagano’s class, jump out the window. A few broken bones and stitches are better than taking a round.”

Or.

“Jeffie! Make sure you always wear your bulletproof backpack when you walk between classes.”

Or.

“Jeffie! When the shooter starts firing, smear yourself with the blood of your classmates and pretend to be dead.”

So what changed?

Second Amendment advocates claim the home grown terrorists  have mental health issues.as to the “why” the shootings routinely occur. Bullshit! There are emotionally unstable people all over the world. We don’t own a monopoly on off-kilter citizens. Yet, America is the only country where kids and other innocents are fair game when the nut jobs go about their brutal business. 

Others claim the E-mosey Services (instead of the Emergency Services) response by the Uvalde, TX Police Department led to the carnage. Yes. It was tepid and lame at best. There’s no excuse for it.

My analogy would be a rookie firefighter arriving on scene to his/her first structure fire and exclaiming. “Woe! Woe! Woe! You mean we actually go into burning buildings. I didn’t sign up for this.”

 

Cops are hired to go after the bad guys, even if it means taking a bullet. That’s what they signed on for.

Both of these notions ignore the obvious. It’s the freakin’ guns that’s the common denominator to the mass murders.

Merica is awash in weaponry. In some states it’s harder to vote than it is to procure an AR-15 semi-automatic rifle. My responsible gun owning buddy Steve M. explained the major faults behind the murder and mayhem this way.

 “Wrong age, wrong weapon, wrong clip, wrong reason.”

Will we ever get back to the days when we allowed kids to be kids and play “Ring around the Rosie” without looking over their shoulders? 

I doubt it.

Until we change the mindset of the “right to bear arms” there will be other Uvalde, Buffalo, Newtown. El Paso, Boulder, Aurora, Parkland, Las Vegas, Orlando, Virginia Tech, Pittsburgh,San Ysidro   …..and on and on mass murders occurring.

A well armed society is not a polite society. It’s a sick, dangerous and broken one.

If you think I’m upset about this. You’re right.

I still don’t/won’t  own a gun.

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2022/05/i-dont-own-gun.html