In the beginning I would climb the hillside terrain carefully stepping only on solid bedrock where possible, around the free-standing rock and trying not to walk on anything alive. This in fact has been my modus operandi for just shy of a half century. A tracker would have a tough time following my path, though that was not my intention. I just did not want to disturb the natural ever-changing way that things had always been. That incredible wealth of millions of nearly hidden life forms in between the over-reaching architecture and beauty of boulders, mesquite, apricot mallow and blooming hedgehog - it deserves this effort; this respect.

A Flying Bridge:

At times I had to intrude; I had to establish and mark my presence for the benefit of me and mine, as we were now a part of that landscape.

This time, it was to whisk away the thin, sometimes thick, layer of sandy-grainy caliche in a particular spot, and perhaps to chisel a small level area in the bedrock upon which I could set a redwood post. This would be one of many posts carefully placed with minimal disturbance where possible, the many carrying a flying bridge of steps and walkways above that terrain so that it would subsequently never have to be disturbed again.

That walkway-stairway will ultimately carry us to the top of the ridge above where one might sit with a cup of coffee or tea and look out over that magnificent vista below, the valley so full of a variety of terrain and vegetation that had been recreating itself over the last billion years or so, not knowing and not caring, and yet somehow appreciating, that we would one day want to sit and admire, be a part of, its overwhelming subtlety.

Even though we had occasionally commented that such a stairway would be nice, it was usually just a fleeting thought as we fought our epic battles with a not quite adequate solar system, frozen and leaking pipes, inadequate interior space and other needs of the moment. Certainly, assembling that 2nd eComposter or painting the bedroom or cleaning the pump filters had to take priority. All of that is resolved, but damn, the exterior of our antique trailer needs some more fiberglass tape and new paint right now! And the signs - the signs - I need to climb to the far corners and post the No Trapping signs - okay; that is done too.

Each of those projects was a story in itself and has been photographed and written about this year or in the past.
On this years web site are:

  1. the story of how our solar system was ultimately rescued,
  2. installation of No Trapping signs at the four corners of our property,
  3. The Stairway,
  4. other stuff.


A Whimsical Idea:


As apposed to previous projects, I had no plan, no SketchUp; in fact, no idea on how I would even begin. There just came a time when I looked up into the hill at this vague rambling whim of winding mythical steps and in the next moment I was laying some loose boards on the hillside pointing in the general direction.



A month later, we had a stairway about 3/4 of the way up with the top end literally hanging in space awaiting the next step.

In Between The Heat:

Building a staircase means climbing a lot of steps, up and down, all day long. My legs became rock hard. In boot camp, it had been one of our exercises. The sun was hot and I tried to minimize my exposure to it, so that meant cutting posts and steps and assembling them as much as possible on the deck in the shade of the ground-level trailer and carport. I took many water breaks in the cooler comfort of my office. Where in the final days it was 98 degrees outside, it was only 91 in there. I guzzled water almost constantly.

My approximate schedule was to get up at about 5 AM, before daybreak, drink my coffee and then work on the stairway until about 9 or 9:30, shortly after the sun came over the hill.

Then I would drink my OJ (breakfast), shave and brush my teeth, then another coffee. I would continue to make short forays up the steps to perform one task or another. Occasionally that short endeavor might be extended a bit.

At about 11:00, I would have a few beers at my desk, corn chips, and take a nap. By 3:00 I would have had my wake-up coffee and would be trying hard not to resume work in the sun just yet, since mid-afternoon is usually the hottest part of the day. That was a good time to take a shower.

By 5 or 5:30, as the sun was approaching the opposite ridge, I would get back to work and continue until I couldn't see what I was doing. Then into town to Subway or Stater Brothers for dinner, supplies at Home Depot and other needs at Wal-Mart.

At all times I was snapping pictures. During my water breaks they would be moved into the computer where I could study them to determine my next step (literally & figuratively).

Stop And Fly:

The day after completing the top step, I was on a plane flying east, somewhat dazed and exhausted. In fact I had run full out through the Palm Springs airport and still missed my flight to San Francisco by about 1 minute. Fortunately, Melissa, the lovely girl at the boarding counter was able to squeeze me into a waiting flight to Los Angeles, with a connecting flight to Boston. I said "I love you, Melissa". She smiled, and a crowd of waiting passengers behind me burst out laughing. I had no idea anybody else could even hear me.

During the red-eye flight east, I was in growing pain, very tired and could not get a good sleep because of the pain. Then there was the thoughtless self-absorbed chatterbox taking the flight attendants hostage in the rear of the plane, who would not shut-up. I even got up and asked them to be quiet, but got that F U look from her in return, and it did not work.

Painful Dehydration:

By the time I got off the bus in Sagamore and fell into Eileen's arms, I was a wreak. The pain was all over; not localized to any one spot. I came to realize that, in spite of my cautions, in spite of the water I consumed, that 90 something degrees was still hot - I was extremely dehydrated. Over the next few days, I lived on Motrin and water (plus coffee, mid-day beers and Eileen's almost wonderful meals). I say almost, because everything tasted wrong. Even my taste buds were screwed up.

I am paranoid about taking medication made in a lab somewhere in India, or wherever. So to say I lived on Motrin was to say I took one, maybe two per day. On the worst day I actually took five (one at a time), but the bottle says six is the max so that was probably okay. They had also expired on 10/12, a year and a half prior, so they had probably lost some of their potency.

Twisted Knee Syndrome:

Eventually the pain did localize to my left knee. Everything else got back to normal except that I continued to be weak and weary for weeks to come. First I tried Mineral Ice on my knee which did not help. Then I wrapped an old Ace bandage in a figure 8 around the knee. That helped some. I learned from experience not to twist the knee under any circumstances; to keep the leg heading in a straight direction at all times. Sometimes the pain would almost subside - and then return with a vengeance. It finally dawned on me that just lifting that leg, unassisted, onto the bed was twisting the knee. I learned to put the right leg behind the left leg and carry it into the bed. I learned that when getting in and out of the car, to pick up the thigh with both hands and carry it in and out.

After the first week or so of this I went to Wal-Mart and found a velcro strapped brace with steel hinges that will not allow the knee to twist. I wore this for about four weeks as the pain reduced, but then quit using it as I noticed the leg swelling and wondered if the brace was cutting off circulation. It was about mid June that the pain flared up again because I did something stupid, so I relented and called my local VA clinic for help. They submitted my name to the Ortho clinic in the Providence VA hospital. Yesterday, July 3, I received a letter scheduling me for an appointment on July 8. But now the pain was gone. I called and cancelled the appointment. I want to give it a chance to heal on its own if it is willing to do so. (July 12: pain free though slightly gimp, but still being cautious.)

By the way, in spite of all the bad press of late, the Hyannis VA clinic and the Providence Veterans Hospital are and always have been exceptional in my case. I think that the problems have been pretty much confined to the southwest where veterans often move and retire, thus overwhelming the local systems. This is probably an oversimplification, but I think generally true.

My knee is healing. I have even been somewhat active, like pruning bushes, climbing ladders (one careful step at a time), or such. Then it may ache some but it does not hurt. An aspirin allows me to get a good nights sleep. When I wake up, there is no ache, no swelling, and my leg looks normal. However, by the end of the day, a slight swelling has returned along with maybe an ache. By now I have naturally become a one step climber, but lately I have been able to reach my left leg up to the next step without pain, so it is on the mend. I still carry my left leg into bed and the car, but more as a precaution then anything else.

So what happened to the knee? I don't really know. I have a vague memory of that leg having slipped down between some leg high rocks and being sharply twisted in the process. I may have had a load of lumber on my shoulder at the time and would not have wanted it damaged, so I probably would have let my leg go with the fall. This would actually have occurred about three or so weeks before my departure because I also got a deep abrasion on the left side of that knee which I discovered that evening. I had to think a moment about where the heck it came from. I normally heal quickly, so I was somewhat surprised at how long the sore and the scab remained. That is where I got the three week estimate. My guess is that my run through the airport was enough to aggravate it the rest of the way.



Heads Up!:

Also while waiting for this writer's block to dissipate, I replaced some of the old cedar siding on our barn here at our east coast home that had been ripped apart by a winter storm. The barn is now "Eileen's Shop", but it has housed many farm animals in the past, some of which Eileen talks about in her second book, My Life in a Barn.


In the process I discovered a pair of antique second story iron window weights pushing through holes that they had worn in the exterior wall, with the old broken siding being the only thing that kept them from falling on somebody's head as people passed through the barn doors below. The weights now hang on a hook in our potting shed.

That area below the window had apparently seen enough rain water coming through the sill that it had turned to a powdery dry rot, which a colony of carpenter ants then moved into. Most of them, and the dry rot, I removed with my shop-vac. I have rebuilt that section of the wall with some good modern 3/4" plywood which has also pushed the old window sill back up to where it used to be. The nice new cedar siding hides the whole mess as though nothing had ever happened.



July 4 Storm:

The next day, July 4, we enjoyed a visit by Tropical Storm Arthur whom to others was an actual hurricane but to us was just a good solid windy rain which our yard and garden really needed.

We also discovered the downpour coming through the old handmade skylight in our laundry room, watering my majestic big leaved Philodendron that has been with me longer then my wife or even my kids. The glass had slid down an inch. I dropped some black basins on the floor around the plant.

There are two skylights, the other being over the small adjacent kitchen alcove. I had replaced its old hand hewn skylight a few years ago with a nice contemporary Home Depot variety.

We have now had two days of good solid sun so I guess I am going to have to climb up there on the roof this afternoon, gimp leg and all, and do something about it.



Death by Monsanto:

We recently discovered that our use of Roundup is killing honey bee colonies so we stopped using it - took the remainder to the dump's hazardous waste section. In turn, we have found that white vinegar does a very nice job on the weeds in our driveway. I understand that this will also work for our other problem, Poison Ivy, though I have yet to see any around the place this year - probably due to our past use of the bee killer.

I have just learned that you can add butterflies and human cells to the the list of victims.




You know, by the time I add some pictures, I think this journal will be of a reasonable size. Of course, you will have seen this after I have done so. If you add all the typing I did for the other subject matters on this year's Joshua Tree page, I have been considerably verbal; no problem!


Bye!




Copyright © 2014, Van Blakeman