Showing posts with label Wildlife. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wildlife. Show all posts

Thursday, June 28, 2018

Day 2 -- Arlington National Cemetery

 

In Washington, D.C., street art is everywhere. These mosaics were on the wall of a highway underpass which is around the corner from the Crystal City Metro Station. You can't tell from my photos but many of the tiny tiles were mirrors and sparkled beautifully. Note the bicycles. It's common for locals to ride their bikes to the subway station then take the subway to within walking distance of their destination.
Grandson John Riley at "our" subway stop


We each got 7-Day Metro passes. That way we could get on any time we wanted at any station and go wherever the subway went.

The boys soon learned escalator etiquette. You stand as far to the right as possible, so the locals can run past you down to or up from the trains.

Keeping in mind that I have a fear of heights and those escalators are multi-stories high -- the first time I was in D.C., I stood as far to the right as possible, clinging white-knuckled, to the railing. Praying silently, "Don't touch me. Don't touch me." as men and women in office attire carrying various and sundry bags and brief cases hurried past me. I just knew if one of them bumped me I wouldn't stop rolling until I hit the bottom.

I asked the boys what they would most like to see. "The Lincoln Memorial," John Riley answered without hesitation. And John said the Supreme Court. Silas, the nine-year-old, wanted to swim in the hotel swimming pool and go to an escape room. Well, nine is almost old enough for a history vacation.

Arlington Cemetery is the third subway stop from the Crystal City Station, so we got off there that second day.

Arlington National Cemetery is today a 624-acre United States military cemetery. In 1864 at the height of the Civil War, the property was owned by Mary Anna Custis Lee, great-granddaughter of Martha and George Washington and wife of Confederate General Robert E. Lee. Mrs. Lee sent an agent, to pay the $92.07 in property taxes (equal to $1,400 today) due on the property in a timely manner. The government turned her agent away and refused to accept the tendered payment because she had not come in person. Now, if your husband was the head of a rebel army, would you present yourself to his enemies?

Then in May 1864, a call went out for eligible sites for the establishment for a large new national military cemetery. Arlington Estate, now forfeit due to failure to pay the property taxes, was deemed the most suitable property in the D.C. area. It was high and free from floods (which might unearth graves); it had a view of the District of Columbia; and it was aesthetically pleasing. Also, rendering the home forever after unavailable to Robert E. Lee, the leader of the armed forces of the Confederate States of America, was a valuable political consideration.

Even with all the people visiting it, the cemetery is peaceful and quiet. This city of the dead is full of life, wildlife. I loved hearing Mockingbirds with their many varied songs and Robins whistling. We have Robins in Colorado, but not Mockingbirds.

     A Momma White Tailed Deer                     A Robin sits atop a headstone.   
                   had parked her fawn in the shade    
                 of a headstone in a quiet area not far 
                    from President Kennedy's grave.                                                            

I was intrigued to see headstones for World War I veterans identifying their places of origin from all over the world. The National Park Service estimates that about 500,000 immigrants from 46 nations served in America’s armed forces during World War I. And they were eligible for a fast track to naturalization by virtue of their military service.



I recently saw The Notorious RBG, the documentary about Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg. She reminds me of my grandmother -- a tiny woman with a will of iron. And always a lady.  If you haven't seen the film, I highly recommend it.

I was hoping to find a Notorious RBG t-shirt for my souvenir from this D.C. trip. But it was not to be. We did happen onto her beloved husband Martin's grave.



I got tired walking so I headed back to the Visitors Center. I always have whatever book I'm reading with me so I can entertain myself while others of my party trudge on.

One thing about resting in D.C. you meet the nicest people from all over the world. When I first sat down to read, a child sat down next to me. I purposely did not "notice" him. I find that young children are like many young animals, they are more comfortable making first contact. So we sat side by side for a bit until he told me that he likes chocolate chip cookies. That he would give me one but they were in a bag his mother had. I asked how old he was. That's always a good ice-breaker. "Six," he told me in his most grown-up manner. 

I met his two older brothers -- the middle one was probably 11 or 12 and the oldest about the same age as John Riley. People that age are less inclined to chit-chat with some unknown adult. Then his mother came over to visit. The family is from South Africa, the Free State which is in the central part of the nation. Then I met his father, who is here helping build a new chemical plant in Louisiana.

They moved on and I got to visit with a woman originally from South Carolina, but she's lived in the D.C. area for almost 30 years. She recommended we visit the Spy Museum, telling me that her grandchildren loved it.

While I visited in the Visitors Center, the boys explored the cemetery. They were particularly looking for Audie Murphy's grave. He's from their hometown in Texas. Audie Murphy, perhaps better known as an actor back in the '50s was one of  the most decorated combat soldiers in World War II. He received every military combat award for valor available from the U.S. Army, as well as French and Belgian awards for heroism.

Not only did they find Audie Murphy's grave, but they saw former President Bill Clinton. He, of course, drew a crowd so they couldn't get close enough to talk to him, but they did get to see him.

Leaving Arlington, we reboarded the Metro and headed for the Supreme Court of the United States.

Monday, April 10, 2017

Hiking Green Mountain -- Nonfiction





Green Mountain under cover of snow

Green Mountain is the focal point of William F. Hayden Park. At more than 2,400 acres, it is the second largest of Lakewood's more than 200 city parks. 

Its altitude of 6,854 feet above sea level makes it one of the smaller of the Foothills of the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains. But because it is rounded and treeless, Green Mountain is easily identifiable. And since I live in a neighborhood 1.8 miles and 1,100 feet down hill to its southeast, I can tell which way is home from almost anywhere in the Denver area.


the view from my neighborhood


from my backyard

When we first moved here from Oklahoma, hiking was not even in my vocabulary. My knees were bad. I had no experience with a climate that is conducive to outdoor activities twelve months out of the year. Nor any acquaintance with a culture that not only encourages walking and hiking but a city that maintains 180 miles of trails for walking, hiking, biking, and horseback riding. My attitude had always been, if you can't get there in a car, why would you go?

My husband lived on the north shoulder of Green Mountain two years before my Dad and I joined him here in Lakewood in December of 2012. At that time Scott was a runner and ran Green Mountain to train for marathons. 

Lakewood also has four recreation centers that provide all kinds of fitness classes and our health insurance paid a little more than half the monthly fee, so I thought "Why not?" Besides, my husband was getting to see grand vistas and abundant wildlife and I wasn't physically able to go, too. I hate to be left out of anything.

My first goal was to reach the summit of Green Mountain. Exercise classes four days a week strengthened my legs enough that I could compensate for the bad knees. I walked our neighborhood including our own open space Hutchinson Park which has its share of walking and biking paths. But I could see that radio tower on top of Green Mountain. That was where I wanted to go.

Finally I started hiking Green Mountain. Scott would hike with me first on this trail, then on that, then on another. Always we would go just as far as I was able. We'd see wildlife.


          five of a herd of eight Mule Deer                                     a Meadowlark 

And, sometimes hear wildlife -- like rattlesnakes. I never saw one, but I took their ominous sound seriously and moved away from the area.


The City of Denver
Looking east from the base of the radio tower.


Views from the top of Green Mountain

I always thought the radio tower was at the summit.
Here it is about a quarter of a mile to the east of the summit.


That sliver of a snow-capped mountain is Pike's Peak
about 70 miles to the south.

Saint Mary's Glacier 34 miles west.

 
Here I am at the summit of Green Mountain
April 21, 2013.

The old knees finally won the battle and I haven't been on Green Mountain in two years. But I had the right knee replaced December 29 and all went well, so we did the left one March 29. There's no reason not to expect a full recovery and hiking Green Mountain is now on the agenda for this summer.

#atozchallenge

Saturday, August 29, 2015

Trail Riding with Scott in His Toy

   
                                            Before                                      After


Some while ago my husband Scott decided he wanted a 4-Wheeler. He asked if I might be interested in riding the mountain trails with him. If my answer were "yes," he would buy a side-by-side ATV. If my answer were "no," he would buy the standard motor-cycle style 4-wheeler.

As you can see, I said "Yes." It was a good answer when he asked me to marry him and it was still a good answer for riding with him in an ATV.

When he first got it, it was what you see in the Before picture -- It had four wheels, two seats with seat belts, roll-bars, a flat bed, head lamps, a steering wheel -- the standard stuff. Turn the man loose with his tools and it's got a roof, a windshield, side rails on the bed, heavy-duty front and rear bumpers, a winch, serious back-up lights, overhead spot-lights, and ways and means of attaching everything you could possible need out back of beyond.

In July, he took it for a shake-down run by himself to see how it did. Last Wednesday he took me with him. (I guess to see how I'd do.)

Everything went fine. We took I-70 west through Idaho Springs then turned off on Chicago Creek Road, a road I'm familiar with because we use it to get to Mount Evans, my second favorite 14er. (If it had a restaurant at the top that made high altitude donuts, it would move ahead of Pike's Peak.) That road is a well-maintained, paved, two-lane highway. We were trailering the Toy behind my husband's pickup. And all was going well.

Our goal, however, was Saxon Mountain, so we turned onto Cascade Creek Road. Well-maintained, not paved. And one-lane. It is curvy, with trees and/or the mountain coming right down to the road's edge on my side and the creek at the bottom of a drop-off on his side. "So," I wondered silently. "What do we do if we meet someone coming the other way?" Backing that truck and trailer down a narrow road with no forgiveness on either side could not be a good idea. And there were no lay-bys.

As it turns out, I never found out what we would do, 'cause nobody came the other way.

We unloaded and buckled up. He set the way-point for where we were starting, consulted his map, and entered the coordinates for the first place he wanted to go into his GPS. It was like space travel will be, set the coordinates and go. Of course with space flight, you won't have to worry about switch-backs or mundane obstacles. You know -- falling rock, streams, downed trees. I figured our way would at least be free of rogue asteroids and meteors.

After our first switch-back we came to this abandoned mine.


Gold was discovered here in 1866. After gold, they discovered silver. So Saxon Mountain is pocked with mines. Most of the mines are collapsed and filled-in vertical shafts. This one goes into the mountain horizontally, at least as far as we could see, looking through the gate. The second structure is across the trail. I believe it housed the stamp mill.
   
                                             and this was the miner's home-sweet-home.

While doing a bit of research on mining in Colorado I happened onto the website for Mountain Magazine with an article that includes a first-hand account of mining in Colorado's high country in the 1890's from Carl Fulton. It's not long and it's worth taking the time to read, if you're interested in what life was like back then.

We saw a bachelor herd of Mule Deer. They'll soon be seeking the does for fall breeding season, at least the ones who are old enough. There were several spikes with the more mature bucks. We saw Clark's Nutcrackers. They're Corvidae like crows and jays. And I saw my first grouse in the wild, a Dusky Grouse. And, that old standby, the robin.

There were beaucoup chipmunks and little dark-colored squirrels. Sorry, no photos of wildlife. The ATV on that trail was too energetic to allow photography and when we'd stop, the wildlife fled.


               
In the mountains, it's all about the light.            And just because we're in the back-
               Still photography doesn't do the Aspens           country, that doesn't mean there's no
               justice. Any little breeze sets the leaves            civilization. There were street signs.
               to fluttering, flashing now silver, now
               green.                                                                                                                               

                               The meadows were still sporting their wild flowers.

  
Indian Paint Brush and Dwarf                       Silvery Lupine        
                              Golden Aster                                                                                  

 

Ahhhh, but the summit. It's over 11,000 feet. That's where the vistas and wildflowers are breathtaking. Down in the valley -- 3,000 feet down, to be more precise -- is I-70 snaking around to the right. And the buildings and things more to the center of the picture is Georgetown.

A Bristlecone Pine
The yellow blooms are Nodding Groundsel and the pale purple are Alpine Daisy

We came down different trails than we used going up. They were even more extreme. We had one scary, near-rollover which my husband handled by going pale and telling me, "Lean that way!" I responded with "I already am!" We held steady tipped like that for three hours or a fraction of a second. He let the Toy settle itself and we went on our merry way.

It was a 20-mile, six hour trip. I got home exhausted, My arms hurt from holding on. At times it was like shooting the rapids on a river. It was thrilling and I know exactly how Rose Sayer felt on the African Queen.

I learned some very important things. The Toy is both powerful and very stable. My husband is a capable, prudent man, and my life is safe in his hands.