Spring break

After a half day at the school I took my Escape in to Jack Furrier's to have them check my front right tire. It had been leaking air and needed to get refilled every four days. That unplanned visit took three hours, during which I walked a quarter mile down the street for a fast food lunch and to read new releases at Hasting's. Today's pick was "American Lion: Andrew Jackson in the White House" by Jon Meacham. I focused on the chapters dealing with the American Indian Removal policies Jackson had pushed through and which he saw implemented. The book is well-written and organized in coherent chapters.
http://www.amazon.com/American-Lion-Andrew-Jackson-White/dp/1400063256

I sat in a couch near the coffee stand where six couches are available for customers. The couches are divided into two sections of three couches facing each other,with a long coffee table between the two sections.

Two older men, one wearing a Vietnam Veteran cap on his head, talked loudly with each other. Unfortunately, they were yelling at each other across the open space. Why couldn't the two men just sit next to each other so that they wouldn't bother the rest of us readers nearby?

The man closer to me was reading the local paper, the Sierra Vista Herald. He was commenting on our former Governor, Janet Napolitano. As a governor she opposed the building of the new international fence between Arizona and Sonora, Mexico. She now heads the Department of Homeland Security and according to the newspapers she has developed a contingency plan should the drug violence in Mexico spill over into this country.

"It seems funny that a woman who didn't do anything about illegal immigration now heads the Department of Homeland Security" he commented.

His Vietnam veteran friend added "She couldn't even keep the state budget in check."

"Well," answered the man next to me, "we can't fault her for that. The money just wasn't there." He was referring to the downward spiraling housing market.

More comments about Napolitano were exchanged. They got louder. By now I knew I couldn't read my book in peace and closed my eyes to nap. I had never heard two old men talk so loudly for so long.

Eventually the conversation turned to Bernie Madoff, a Jewish stock-trading investor who defrauded thousands of people (and many celebs) of millions through a huge Ponzi scheme, robbing them of their life savings. Several charities in Israel were also affected by this massive fraud. Madoff plead guilty yesterday and could face a 150-year life sentence in a Manhattan court. His sentence will be this June. The government says he's been running this Ponzi scheme since the 1980s; Madoff says he started in the 1990s. His wife sits on $65 million, claiming that money is rightfully hers. At any rate this is the largest Fraud scheme in history and this news won't go away soon.

http://www.svherald.com/articles/2009/03/13/news/immigration/doc49b9ea8078c5e310502132.txt

"That guy says he's sorry for what he's done...he's just sorry he got caught!" said my by now obnoxious couch mate.

The two men exchanged more comments, from raising taxes to city government. They didn't seem happy about anything. I was wondering how long these two men would chat. My cell phone, I hoped, would ring any minute now with a call from the auto shop saying my truck was ready for pick-up.

"Well" said the man next to me, "I better get going before they charge me rent" and got up. His friend followed. When the men had left the woman across from me, who had been sitting next to the Vietnam Veteran, smiled at me in relief.

"I never thought men could talk this much" I said. "They acted like two teens with cell phones!" She just smiled more in agreement.

By now my phone call had come and I walked back to the auto shop. Two new BF Goodrich Long Trail tires, plus labor cost me $320. These will be the last tires I buy for the SUV before he dies of old age.

It was now approaching 2pm. I drove home where the dogs were eagerly awaiting me. Weather was nice and they were ready for a "W". My plan now was to go on post, deposit my VA check and make an appointment at the Tax Center. And then I wanted to drive up Huachuca Canyon for a quiet walk with the dogs.

I made it to the highest picnic area in Huachuca Canyon at 3pm and walked uphill along the road with the dogs. A narrow stream cut through the road, allowing the dogs fresh water. Sara was having fun and the other two dogs were chasing imaginary prey. This was Sara's first walk all week due to her worsening limp.

How beautiful the canyon was. It had been several years since I had been up here. The sycamores were still naked, but willows and oaks were in green display. I wanted to walk uphill for 30 minutes, then turn around.

But after 45minutes I was still walking uphill, captivated by the beauty. The eastern sun was shining directly in my face.

Nothing looked familiar to me until I came up to an old Forest Service sign showing the Huachuca Canyon trail. I turned south at this point, following a tributary creek up a steeper canyon until it got too steep and narrow. Here is where I came across the typical trash left behind by illegals: gallon water jugs tied to nylon string, cans of Jumex nectar and Spanish language candy wrappers. I was now off the trail and needed to get back on a safer path.

The dogs didn't mind. They ran between Douglas pine, sniffed tree trunks, bit into soft ground and dug around in humus. I was more concerned with getting back on a road. I knew I was walking back in the same direction as I could see the canyon from high vantage points, and recognized Camel Back Peak, a pronounced hump of a peak that offers a nice view of Fort Huachuca.

I got on a slide trail that I had noticed walking out. I took this steep trail that took us back to Huachuca Canyon Road. Now the dogs were familiar with the scent and took me straight back to the truck. It was 5pm and all three dogs were relieved to hop into the truck (with their wet and muddy paws!!!). I could feel the cooler effect of the shadowed mountain trail now.

A couple from Washington State had just pulled in behind me. They were birders on the look-out for the elegant trogon, a Mexican beauty of a bird that migrates here from Mexico each spring. The Huachuca mountains is its most northern habitat. Whenever a trogon is spotted here, the birding world has a collective orgasm.

I have a week off from school and will use that time to finish my midterm exam due Monday. I also have a debate to finalize and a project due. And I want to get my draft research paper on the Western Apache started. Next Friday we are driving to the San Carlos Indian reservation near Globe, AZ so I can see first-hand some Apache culture. The photographs I will take will be part of my presentation.