A Gray Day

Waking early to post the Monday announcements for my classes, I hurry over to the computer. While the computer gears up, I turn on the wifi and start boiling water for tea. It's the second of three days off work at the resort, and I really don't want to be working. I crave adventure and exploration. Or both.

Removing the orange Mexican blankets from the living room windows, I see the day is dreary and gray...with no hopeful hint of blue sky anywhere to the west. The water boils, and I add the tea bags. Today it is an herbal peach tea bag and a Lipton one.

I do what I have to do online: make my posts, check for student questions, and grade most of last week's discussion boards by the time I realize I want to do something. I don't feel like sitting in my chair, so I go in and talk to Brenda to see what she's up to.

She's working on the roof for her garden. Here at Lake Havasu, summer temps can reach into the 120s. Someone said that in July and August, you won't get a day below 100-degrees Fahrenheit. Out here, you've got to protect the crops from scorching and withering away. But that's not the main reason she's building the roof. The roof is to protect it from the chemtrails. That's right. There's chem trails overhead. I watched two jets, up high in the sky. One was leaving a trail, the other wasn't.

Of course, if you google "chemtrails," you'll get pages and pages of mocking diatribes against conspiracy theorists. But that's to be expected from google, an arm of left-wing propaganda.

But, if you change your search term to "cloud seeding," you get a different story, a gentler response, about how clouds are chemically "seeded" for weather modification. This has been going on for a long time. Something Bill Gates wants to do is use cloud seeding to block the sun. Don't believe me? Read it here in Forbes: Bill Gate's venture aims to spray dust into the atmosphere to block the sun. What could go wrong? Or, read it in Yahoo: Bill Gates Backs plan to tackle climate change by blocking out the sun. Maybe the conspiracy theorists aren't the crazy ones.

But...I digress...Brenda is working hard on her project. I'd be in her way, so I road trip. Loading Buena into the Xterra, I grab my backpack and tea. I start the engine, creep up the gravel driveway, and head downhill toward the light. At the light, I decide to north. At the northern edges of Havasu, I continue north, then east along the 40. Maybe I'll go to Catfish Paradise. Instead, I continue north, pushing toward Bullhead City. Gas is cheap there. I'll drive there to save a few cents on the fill-up. Only at the last minute, I take a gamble on the gas station on the Indian reservation. Brenda says it's cheaper, but I think the gas stations in Bullhead are cheaper. As it turns out, I lost about .80 by buying at the rez. Bullhead gas is a nickel cheaper. Dang!

I sound so old, bickering about saving a nickel, but it isn't until you get older that you really realize what a nickel is worth. It all adds up. (Another old-person saying, I know. But it's true.)

In Bullhead, I decide to take a quick jaunt across the river into Laughlin to go to the mall. The other day I was looking at some candles on my phone. I had $50 worth of candles in my basket. It got me the free shipping if I ordered $50 worth of wax. Based on the oils used in those candles, I'd probably really dig the scent. But...before pulling the trigger, I exited the screen. I knew better than to order something from an online ad enticement. But, since that store is in Laughlin, I decide to go into the mall to smell the candles I almost ordered. I want to see if I should have bought them.

They don't have them.

They're all sold out.

Truth be told... I don't really want them anymore.

And I don't want to be in this mall either. I want to get out.

Outside into the chilly grey air, the wind catches my hair. So while driving up the hill toward Oatman, I tie my hair into two braids, Laura Ingalls' style. I want to be outside. I need to hike.

Taking the 8-mile dirt road into Oatman, I turn onto Silver Creek. At the start of the long climb, there are lots of dirt turn outs and strong cell service. This would be a great place to camp for a couple of weeks. Remote feeling, yet close to Bullhead.

Only...very soon, I discover these turn outs are for firearm practice. A large warning sign reads that guns can only be shot if they are at least a mile from buildings. As I drive past, I see the human debris left behind--broken bottles, shot-up cans, shot-up signs, and shot-up other metal things. Near what had to be the end of all these turn outs, I pull over, thinking I can run Buena for a little bit. Only...as I pull up the small incline onto the dirt, I notice all the spent shells and broken glass. Not a good place for doggie paws!

So I drive.

Up and down hills, around bends.

Past the Peace Trail.

Up until a little road catches my eye. I find a dry wash and pull the Xterra into it. Unloading Buena, I look around. Pleasant place. No trace of humanity.

So, we hike.

I find things...an interesting rock, a small shrub growing out from cracks between the rock, and a possible petroglyph. (Later in the day, I will show the pics to an Oatman local who knows the area well. She agrees that "yes, petroglyphs are all over this area.") In the pictures below, you'll see a close-up of the rock etching.

Concentric circles marked like this aren't natural to sandstone, so I examine it closer. Drawing back from it, a shape seems to suggest itself. I contemplate what I'm seeing. Not all shapes make sense to the casual observer. Even scholarly observers will admit that rock art meanings are lost to time. There are others in various indigenous nations who say that the information in the rock art has been handed down orally. One man I spoke with last year, an indigenous anthropologist, said that he was in a remote Utah canyon when he and his group of anthropologists came across a rock art panel. One of the men in the group fell to his knees and started weeping. The symbol on the rock was his family crest. He felt a strong connection to his ancestors there.

But this rock... Seeing the concentric circles is one thing, but knowing what else to look for is also important. Most rock art is found etched into rock with a brown sun-glazed patina finish. As you can see from the fourth picture, that patina is found in this area.

But the question remains... Why would this shape be in an un-patina-ed rock? Was it once etched into the patina, but the patina wore off? Is that even possible? Or was it blasted off? This is something to ponder, so--for now--I take the pictures and try to make sense of what I'm seeing.

Of course, while hiking, I stumble upon many must-have rocks. Many of these are for someone's garden. I know they don't look like much, but each one has a specific shape or something that will be needed for that garden. By the end of the hike, I am no longer able to take pictures. My arms are completely filled up, and I have to set some of the rocks down to unlock the doors to the Xterra.

Driving out of the wash and back onto the main road, I see I was hiking at the edge of the gold mine...actually downhill from it. Maybe I should have been looking for gold instead of heart-shaped rocks...especially after the recent rains. Rain uncovers rocks and washes things downhill.

Then, there was this:

Finally, I arrive at Oatman and walk around town, snapping pictures of "everything Oatman." So many of these pictures didn't make the cut: the free museum, the old-fashioned shooting gallery, and interesting store fronts and signage. I also buy a few things: a birthday gift and a piece of luggage that will double as a "really big purse" on my upcoming plane ride back to St. Louis. (When buying the ticket, I'd selected the cheaper "no luggage" option, so I would have to layer up my clothes and stuff as much as I could into the allowed "one free carry on." I would be a big-purse lady for the trip.)

Originally, I tried uploading 18 Oatman pictures, but the upload kept freezing and booting me out of the blog. After several attempts, only these three made the cut. Click on any picture to pull it up to the big viewer:

On a second upload attempt, I was able to add some of the burro pictures:

I take "Historic Route 66" on the trip south of Oatman and through Topock, where I stop at Hooch's 66 Bar & Grill for a quick bite to eat. It's Taco Tuesday on a Monday night. "Just to be different," says the older, dreadlocked bartender and server. It seems like she's running the entire restaurant. Even so, my three tacos arrive quickly, and I have enough to split between myself and Buena.

By the time I return to Lake Havasu, daylight is just a ribbon of green-yellow at the edge of the horizon over on the California side.