A Good Haircut is Hard to Find

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a fossil, a relic from another time. I’ve always been old, even when I was young. I’ve always identified more with my father’s generation than with my own. My friends in college would laugh at me when they got in my car because the radio would be tuned to a local Huntsville AM station carrying the Texas State Network, which focused on state news, agribusiness, sports, and other items not considered very cool for college kids in the 1970s.

But I digress from the direction I had intended to go; old fossils do that . . . .

I just can’t seem to find a good barber shop anymore. I’m not one to frequent the trendy hair salons of urban malls. I prefer an old fashioned barber shop, complete with a barber pole out front. I want to see older men sitting in the chairs waiting their turn, and the conversation needs to be on the weather or the price of cotton.

I’m looking for a barber that gives a nice, clean cut, and finishes by using a straight-edged razor, complete with warm lather, to trim along my ears and neck. Without that final trim, I just don’t feel that I’ve had a real haircut.

The magazines need to be Progressive Farmer and related periodicals. There’s no need for a television; the magazines and conversation are all that’s needed.

Since moving to Angelo, I’ve visited at least 6 different barber shops, and I’ve yet to find one that I like. It’s getting harder for old fossils to stay well-groomed. I may have to become a shaggy old fossil.

Good Reads: The Man Who Walked Through Time, by Colin Fletcher

Serious hikers will probably recognize Colin Fletcher’s name because of his Complete Walker, first published in 1968 and revised three times since. It is one of the most influential books ever written for serious backpackers, and it is often referred to as “the hiker’s Bible”.

In The Man Who Walked Through Time, Fletcher hiked the Grand Canyon from the western boundary of the national park to the eastern boundary. Most people who hike the Grand Canyon normally do so from rim to river and back up to rim, either the rim where they started or the opposite one. But Fletcher chose to hike the entire length of the park below the rim.

Such a hike presented numerous challenges, the foremost being finding a route. When he set out on his walk, he was not even sure that such a hike was possible, for at places the canyon forms solid walls down to the river. Would he be able to find ledges, skirts, and other walkways where he could traverse the canyon entirely below the rim? Another large challenge was being re-supplied during his 2 month trip. He would have to cache supplies at strategic points, and he even relied on air drops on 3 occasions. And would he be able to find water along the route, especially in the western areas where water sources are less reliable and depend largely on basins that catch rain and snow.

As he recorded his actual hike, Fletcher provided his impressions on the geology and anthropology of the Grand Canyon. For those interested in these topics, you will probably enjoy his insights and his attempts to become part of the canyon experience. For those interested primarily in the act of backpacking, these numerous digressions might be a distraction. But, the purpose of the book is, after all, to “walk through time”, and to do so, Fletcher tried to fully immerse himself in the canyon.

But Fletcher also provided great insight into the art of backpacking. For example, in the second chapter, he went into great detail about his first night on the trail: how he “pitched” his camp, the equipment he used, the food he cooked, the application of rubbing alcohol to help his feet after a long day of hiking, and so forth. As a hiker, I appreciate these details. At the end of the book, he also provided a list of his equipment as well as the supplies he carried and received at each cache and air drop.

I admire people like Colin Fletcher who seem so comfortable with themselves and so confident that they can spend weeks, even months, alone in the wilderness with only the barest of supplies and equipment. Fletcher was quite an interesting person. He was born in Wales in 1922 and was a commando in WWII. Following the war, he lived in Kenya for several years before moving to western Canada and then to California, where we spent the remainder of his life before passing away in 2007.

Mysteries of the American Southwest

                I recently wrote a review of Eric Blehm’s book, The Last Season, which covers the disappearance of back-country ranger Randy Morgenson in the Sierra Nevada in 1996. For 5 years, what happened to Morgenson remained a mystery until evidence was uncovered in 2001. I won’t go into detail just what was found in case you plan to read the book but haven’t gotten around to it yet. But even with the discovery of certain evidence in 2001, much still remains a mystery.

                And that got me to thinking about numerous other mysteries in the southwest part of our country that I’ve learned about in recent years. Here are a few that might interest you.

                Everett Reuss, born March 28, 1914, was a talented and artistic young man. As he neared  adulthood, he began exploring areas of the great Southwest, especially Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah. In November, 1934 – just 20 years old – he left Escalante, Utah, heading towards the Colorado River. Leading 2 burros with supplies to last for at least 2 months, he disappeared into the desert. His burros were found grazing, but no trace of Reuss has ever been found. Although young, he had lived a rich life and had associated with the likes of Ansel Adams and Dorothea Lange. He left behind an impressive collection of art and writings for one so young.

                The story of Everett Reuss is not as widely known as the story of Glen and Bessie Hyde. Glen Hyde (born December 9, 1898) and his wife Bessie (born December 29, 1905) were married April 12, 1928. In October of that year, they set off on a delayed honeymoon rafting trip down the Colorado River in a 20 foot wooden sweep scow that Glen had built himself. The couple was last seen November 18, 1928, after resupplying in an area now encompassed by Grand Canyon National Park. Their scow was later found intact down river, with no trace of the missing couple. Various theories exist, and I leave those to you to research if you are interested.

                One of the more bizarre stories from this part of the country concerns the family of Marshall South. From 1930 to 1947, South and his wife, Tanya, lived a hermit lifestyle in the desert. South (born Roy Bennett Richards in Australia on February 24, 1889) was a writer who authored novels, poetry, short stories, essays, and magazine articles. He moved his family to an area today encompassed by Anza-Borrego Desert State Park east of San Diego, California. There on Ghost Mountain they built their home, which they christened Yaquitepec. With no water in the area, they used a system of cisterns to collect rain water. Three children were born to the couple while they lived on Ghost Mountain, though the actual delivery of each child was done in nearby Oceanside. From his home atop his mountain, South published a series of articles detailing their primitive life, a series later compiled as Marshall South and the Ghost Mountain Chronicles.

                I’m sure there are other mysteries of the area. If you know of any, please share with me as this is an area of great interest to me.

Movie Review: Gravity

One of the side benefits of being retired is being able to go to movies during the day when most people are working or are in school. Not only are ticket prices lower, but attendance is low, so you often have the theater practically to yourself.

On a recent weekday afternoon, Donna and I went to see Gravity, a science fiction thriller starring Sandra Bullock and George Clooney. Donna likes any movie with George Clooney; she says he reminds her of me. I get that a lot.

In the movie, Sandra Bullock plays the role of Dr. Ryan Stone, a mission specialist on her first space shuttle mission. Clooney is Matt Kowalski, mission commander. These are the only two actors in the movie, though we do hear other voices via radio.

Space debris from a satellite hurls through space, damaging the space shuttle as well as other satellites. Kowalski and Stone, who are working outside the shuttle at the time, survive the high-speed debris, but the shuttle is damaged. They are, in effect, lost in space. The remainder of the movie concerns their efforts to survive.

One of the things I really liked about this movie is that it got into the heart of the plot almost immediately. In so many movies, it seems as though half the movie is over before the plot actually begins, with a great deal of time given to "background." That is not the case in this movie. The real action of the plot starts within the first 10 minutes and continues non-stop until the end of the movie.

I was impressed by the technology used to produce the film. Instead of Gravity, the movie could easily have been called Anti-Gravity for almost the entire movie involved scenes of weightlessness.

I'm not a big science fiction fan, but I did enjoy this movie. It was a good way to spend some time on a quiet afternoon.

Good Eats: Ginger and Spice, Fredericksburg, Texas

If you've followed my blog for very long, you know how I love Thai cuisine. Whenever Donna and I travel, we always are on the lookout for exotic food, especially Thai, Indian, Lebanese, and Greek. On our recent trip to Fredericksburg, Texas, I discovered a new Thai restaurant that had not previously been there.

Ginger and Spice is located at 116 North Crockett. If you are familiar with Fredericksburg, this is just west of the Vereins Kirche.

My favorite Thai dish is curry, especially coconut milk based curry. I was in luck at Ginger and Spice for the menu had 5 different curries to choose from. I finally decided on the yellow curry, which consisted of potatoes, carrots, and onions in a coconut milk based yellow curry sauce. You could choose to complete the curry with beef, pork, chicken, or tofu. For an additional charge, you could opt for shrimp. I usually prefer chicken in my curry, so that is what I chose this time.

I was not disappointed. In fact, I really can't tell you what the other members of my party had or even if they enjoyed their meals. To be honest, I really didn't care. My curry was really good and all I cared about for the next thirty minutes was the next spoon of yellow curry that went into my mouth. It had that rich, full flavor that only a coconut milk based curry has. I dumped my side-bowl of rice in with the curry and slowly worked my way to the bottom of the bowl, coming up for air on occasion.

I don't know that this was the best curry I've ever had, but it is certainly up there near the top. I would definitely return if in the area.

If you like fast food, then you won't like Thai food. I've learned over the years that the best Thai food is worth waiting for, and our wait time at Ginger and Spice was rather long. But for me, the wait was well worth the end reward.

Let's Go to Luckenbach, Texas

Luckenbach is one of those uniquely Texan places that you can find scattered about the state, places like Terlingua and Uncertain. Usually a bit off the beaten path, these places create their own brand of culture and often attract the non-conformists among us. I'm glad we have places like this; we need to know that not everyone is toeing the line.

Luckenback has been a favorite place of mine for years, at least in my mind. Now, I don't hang out there, but I like to drive through whenever I'm in the Fredericksburg area and see what is happening there.

Luckenback was established just prior to 1850, mainly by German immigrants. It remained a small agricultural community until the 1960s, when it was more or less a ghost town. Responding to an ad, Hondo Crouch (rancher, entrepreneur, and unique character supreme) purchased the small community in 1970 and began marketing the old dance hall there as an entertainment destination.

This is about the time I learned of Luckenbach. In the summer of 1973, Jerry Jeff Walker, backed by the Lost Gonzo Band, recorded his breakthrough album, Viva Terlingua, in Luckenback and put the relatively unknown community on the Texas country music map. A few years later, Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson performed a duet called "Luckenback, Texas" that did very well on country music charts.

Over the years, Luckenback has hosted numerous concerts and picnics, and today has a steady stream of performers taking the stage under the sprawling Hill Country oak trees along Grape Creek, which meanders behind the general store. On most afternoons, you can usually find a few locals and tourists stopping in for a beer, a photo or two, and maybe even a little food at the grill operated next to the dance hall. It's a good place to pause for a while, eat a BBQ sandwich, and have a cold one. There's just a little bit of the old days drifting through the air, whispering through the oaks, telling everyone to slow down and "get back to the basics of life."

On a recent trip with my brother Larry and his wife Nancy, we looped through Luckenback, stopping for a few moments to snap some pictures.

Donna in front of the old Luckenback post office.

Donna in Luckenback, with the outdoor stage behind and to her right. I love the oaks.

Edward Abbey, an Overview

In my younger years, I remember watching two seemingly unrelated movies that made an impact on me: Lonely Are the Brave (1962, starring Kirk Douglas, Walter Matthau, Carroll O'Connor, Gena Rowlands, and George Kennedy) and Fire on the Mountain (1981, starring Buddy Ebsen and Ron Howard). I was particularly moved by the central characters, men who were essentially standing firm in the onslaught of progress. This is a theme I personally relate to. I'm something of a fossil myself, and for many things I prefer the old ways.

What I didn't know at the time that I saw these movies is that both were based on books written by Edward Abbey. Since then, I've become something of a fan of Edward Abbey and can identify to some degree with his attitudes towards the environment. Now, don't misunderstand -- I don't aspire to eco-terrorism or anything extreme like that, but I am a naturalist who wants to be a good steward of the earth, and Abbey does have something to say on this matter.

I've not read all the works of Abbey, but I've read many. If you are interested at all in the environment, especially that of the Southwest, then here is a pretty good list of Abbey works you might consider.

• Desert Solitaire (if you have read The Last Season by Eric Blehm, you will see a lot of Randy Morgenson in here)
• Down the River
• The Brave Cowboy (the basis for Lonely Are the Brave referenced above)
• Fire on the Mountain
• The Monkey Wrench Gang
• Hayduke Lives
• The Fool's Progress (don't even try this book unless you are a fan of Abbey)
  

Abbey was quite an interesting man. He was born January 29, 1927, and spent his formative years in Pennsvylvania. Immediately following graduation from high school, he drifted towards the American Southwest, particularly the Four Corners region, and fell under the spell of the desert.

Abbey was drafted at the tail end of WWII. Following his brief two-year stint in the military, he took advantage of the GI Bill and attended the University of New Mexico, where he received a BA degree in 1951 (philosophy and English) and a Master's degree in 1956 (philosophy).

In 1956 and 1957, he worked as a seasonal ranger at Arches National Monument, an experience which formed the basis of his well received and respected work, Desert Solitaire, published several years later in 1968. Personally, this is my favorite non-fiction work by Abbey, and it was one reason why I visited that park last year.

Throughout the 1960s, Abbey continued to work at various parks around the country, all the while churning out novels and other writings. He was something of a controversial figure, espousing anarchism and opposing the construction of the Glen Canyon Dam, for example. Because of his novel the Money Wrench Gang, many consider him the father of eco-terrorism.

Not even death could tame Abbey, who requested that his friends bury him in an undisclosed location in the Arizona desert in his sleeping bag so that he could serve as fertilizer to the desert plants. He died March 14, 1989, in Tucson following surgery to correct a problem with his veins. His friends carried out his final request.