Day 4 - Boot Camp Graduation

It was a typical sunny and warm Arizona morning.

And today was the last day of our CorelDRAW 3X Boot Camp.

The 3 Arkansas girls left before lunch.

So all that was left was Gary from El Paso, Jodi from Vancouver, Edie from Boulder, and yours truly.

And we cannot forget Freckles, Foster's dog. She was as much a part of our class as anyone else.

After another very filling lunch, it was time to return to the darken classroom for even more information overload. By the time we were done, all of our brains were numb.

It was hard to believe that we covered over 200 pages of material in just 3 days. Surprising our brains had any more room left.

But for all of our hard work, we each got a certificate of completion and this nifty tee shirt. At least it didn't say, "My parents went to Arizona and all I got was this stupid tee shirt."

So now we're all official boot camp survivors!

With numbed out brains, we said our thanks and good-byes, and went on our way, probably never to cross paths again.

Once back at the B & B, Gary reminded me of the favor I asked him to do ~ to take a picture of me holding "The Wanderer," my town's weekly journal.

("The Wanderer" has a tradition where it posts pictures of Tri-Towners holding up an issue of the journal wherever they travel. So if you live in the Tri-Town area and are planning a trip or vacation , you must remember to pack an issue of "The Wanderer" with you!)

Just what my poor, over-loaded brain needed ~ physical exercise.

Gary and I took a brief walk up School House Road, this time heading towards the main drag instead of the opposite direction when I was in quest for that "JAVELINA X-ING" sign. It was just a brief walk to the other side of the Desert Foot Hills Library, which stood next to the Spur Cross B & B.

Here's "Gumby," the saguaro that I first noticed on Wednesday, on my early morning hike behind the B & B.

Here's Gary in front of this tall, multiple-armed saguaro. I wonder how old that baby is.

Seeing that I'm a big saguaro nut, Gary took several pictures of me in front this saguaro in particular.

After weeding through all the pictures of me in front of cacti as tall as trees, this is the one Ariana thought should go into "The Wanderer."

You know, that multiple-arm saguaro was truly amazing. Even Gary had to take some pictures of it.

Here's a better view of it.

Having gotten our vanity shots, it was time to mosey on back to the ranch and rustle up some grub.

But first we had to go across the road and take some more pictures of the mountains.

It's hard to believe that with scenery like this, the Spur Cross Bed & Breakfast is considered part of Cave Creek's downtown proper.

The main drag ~ Cave Creek Road ~ is just about a quarter to half a mile up the road from the B & B. With a bank and post office on the corner, that's where all the action is.

Gary and I decided to go out to dinner together this time. This was to be his last night in Cave Creek before his early morning departure the next day.

Now came the fun of trying to decide where to eat. I have really wanted to get a taste of rattlesnake just so I could say, when I got home, "I ate rattlesnake in Arizona."

Unfortunately, I came a month or two too early for rattlesnake to be on anyone's menu. Apparently, the time to get rattlesnake is in October and November, when they are nice and fat.

There was a possibility that I could probably get some rattlesnake at Cartwright's, which served all sorts of game. But the great uncertainty of me being able to find such an item on the menu led me to defer to Gary for picking the eating spot.

Because Gary really enjoyed his first meal in Arizona at the Horny Toad, that's where he decided he would like to eat. I had no problem with that. Had I been in Cave Creek much longer than my allotted time, I would have most likely wanted to try out that place.

"Are you driving?"

"Yes."

"Oh good! That means I can have a margarita or two!"

It's been awhile since I had a nice frosty top-shelf Grande Marnier margarita. And after having my brain numbed out from information overload, why not make it "official?"

After Gary parked the car, we walked by this HUGE prickly pear cactus on the away to the Horny Toad entrance. That sucker was enormous! It must have at least 4 or 5 feet taller than me. Maybe more.

When we got seated, Gary ordered a "Colorado Kool-Aid" (Coors) while I ordered a margarita.

I asked if they had Patron Silver. Yes they did. So I ordered it with that. (I never had Patron Silver before, but I heard it was really good stuff.)

I then ordered a cup of chili, which was OK, and an order of beef ribs. Gary ordered the meat loaf.

Meat loaf? That sounds something my sister would order. I have nothing against meat loaf. In fact, I enjoy a really good meat loaf. But like chicken, that's not one of the foods that I order when I eat out.

But why order at a restaurant something that you normally can get at home? For me, restaurants are places of culinary adventure where you can try new things.

They're also places where someone else does all the cooking, serving, and cleaning up. Oh! I can never say too much about how much I love eating out!

Our food had arrived ~ Gary's humble meat loaf and my giant platter of Fred Flintstone, dinosaur bone beef ribs.

Gary wasn't all that thrilled with his meat loaf. But I was going nuts over the ribs.

They weren't like the beef ribs I find in this area. In fact, it's not too easy to find beef ribs where I live. The only ribs that you can get anywhere around home are those mamby-pamby baby-back ribs. Oh sure, baby-backs are great. But they simply can't compare to a nice and savory beef rib.

And the added bonus is that my dogs can enjoy the bones afterwards. They can't do that with pork ribs. (Actually, my dogs could. It's just that I won't let them have pork bones ~ period.)

Oh! and what wonderful ribs they were ~ loaded with lots of meat. I've never seen beef ribs this meaty back home. Usually the ones I get here ~ when I can find them ~ are loaded with gobs of fat.

And while digging in, I ordered another margarita.

Both Gary and I could not finish our meals, but for different reasons. Gary wasn't enjoying his meal while I was enjoying mine too much. My stomach could not handle all that gastronomical pleasure all at once. Also, my still painful Bozo lips where not being very cooperative.

So while Gary opted not to take his meal back (besides it wouldn't have made sense with his having to catch a plane the next morning), I had mine wrapped up.

Now came time for the bill. I was all set to pay my own way when Gary insisted that he would pay it. He would have me leave the tip.

When I looked at the bill so that I could calculate the tip, my jaw dropped to see that both of my margaritas came out to $23! I guess that Patron Silver is really top-shelf stuff.

Seeing that my 2 drinks cost more than my meal, I asked Gary if he was sure that he wanted to pay for my meal. I just didn't think it was right. But he insisted.

Paying the bill, we walked a few steps over to check out the Horny Toad gift shop. It was just us and the shopkeeper, Bill, who was a pleasant fellow.

Gary was interested in the kachinas and ironwood figures. I liked the whimsically painted wood carvings from Oaxaca. And my eye especially travelled to the jewelry case and landed on a gorgeous Navajo silver and green turquoise cuff bracelet.

I fell in love with that bracelet! The silver work was exquisite. And the stone was just the right color to complement my complexion.

Most turquoise is a bright blue. It's a pretty color. But somehow it doesn't look quite right against my skin. But the green turquoise ~ now there's a color that my skin likes.

The color of the stone is determined by the amounts of copper and iron. The more copper it has, the more blue the stone. Likewise, the more iron present, the more green the stone.

I also learned from Bill that some Navajo silversmiths are a suspicious lot who believe that when a person dies, he or she has has to be buried with all his or her jewelry. And for an artisan, who has a part of himself go into each piece he makes, that's a lot of jewelry to to try to locate, let alone be buried with.

So to avoid any disasters or unpleasant consequences in the after life, many Navajo silversmiths will not stamp their work, or only stamp just part of their name.

The bracelet that I coveted was stamped with a single "R."

I would have bought the bracelet right on the spot had I realized that I had the money with me. But seeing that I forgot I had some extra bills tucked away out of sight in my check book, I had to wait until the next day.

Since the next day was Sunday, the store would be opening at noon ~ just in time for me to stop by after attending the church that was right next door to the Horny Toad.

With just my left-overs in hand, we returned to the Spur Cross B & B.

Gary had to pack for an early flight back to El Paso. And I had my journal to record another day of my Arizona adventures.

Day 4 - JAVELINA X-ING

It was Friday, and once again I woke up with the nasty, painful, and crusty Bozo lips. This time I wrapped some ice cubes in a face cloth to use for a compress.

The ice cubes had almost melted completely by the time I was done with my morning prayers, and yet my lips did not fare much better. I will have to ask Carolyn where I could find the nearest pharmacy.

As usual, Carolyn had treated Gary and me to another gut-busting breakfast that neither one of us was supposed to have finished.

In the meantime, I asked Carolyn for directions to the nearest pharmacy. She said that there was CVS (You mean they have them there, too?!) just a bit of a way down the road past where I would turn off to get to Foster's.

So, I decided to leave a little bit early so that I could find that CVS and perhaps have a pharmacist suggest what I should do. I really did not relish the idea of having to go to the emergency room.

But first, I had to stop at the post office just down the road to mail my post cards and to get some stamps for my international post cards.

It was easy to mail the postcards, but the window was nowhere to be found. All I could see in the lobby was a rolled-down door where the window should have been. I asked the clerk, who was collecting the mail from the outside mail box and raising the flag on the pole, what time the window opened.

9 o'clock.

That's the same time my class starts.

Oh well, let's be off and find that CVS. I drive by the Rancho Mañana Road that I need to take to Foster's and keep on going. I pass the town hall and then the fire station. Soon, I'm out in the middle of nowhere with no CVS in sight.

Hmmm. I guess folks in Arizona have a different definition for "a little ways down the road."

Not sure how much farther I would have to travel to get to that blasted CVS, and not wanting to be late for class, I turn around and head to Foster's. I could always go there after class.

Today's class was on bit-map editing. There was SO much information being thrown at us today. And the pace increased even more after our lunch break. I think that by the time we done, everyone was dazed from information over-load.

Later that evening there was to be the big boot camp cook-out at Foster's. We could stick around and swim in his pool or return at 6 o'clock. Everyone opted to leave.

It was just as well. I high-tailed it back in the direction of CVS. And after driving through the middle of nowhere, I did indeed find it at an intersection with traffic lights.

I asked the pharmacist for her recommendations. She said that my affliction looked like one big massive cold sore. Well, I had cold sore before, and they never felt and behaved like this mess on my lips.

Anyhow, the pharmacist recommended an oral analgesic with 20% benzocain for the pain, a soft sun-blocking salve with no alcohol to keep my lips moist, and an over-the-counter pain-killer to bring down the swelling.

In the meantime, I noticed something in this CVS that I had never noticed in any other CVS. Booze! Yes, this CVS sold beer, wine, and hard liquor. I couldn't believe it. Anyhow, I bought a bottle of Chianti to bring to the party just so I could say that I bought booze at CVS.

But should I really be surprised that this CVS sold alcohol? After all, I discovered that in Arizona, one can buy alcohol at gas stations. What a concept ~ get gassed while you gas up.

Allowing gas stations to sell booze really doesn't seem to be the bright thing to do in a state that has serious problems with drunken driving. And had I stayed longer in Arizona, I suppose that I would have discovered even more stupid things to add to the list.

Well, I was done with CVS, and I actually had enough time to swing by the post office to get stamps for the post cards that are going to Canada, England, and New Zealand.

Now to go back and decompress from today's information over-load before returning to Foster's house.

I guess that by the time I got back to the B & B, I changed my plans about decompressing for awhile. Instead, I roped Gary into accompanying me for a walk up the road so that I could take a picture of that "JAVELINA X-ING" sign that I saw a couple of days ago.

Actually Gary was very nice and accommodating about indulging my crazy wish for a walk. And he was quite the gentleman making sure that I stay off to the side of the road and out of harm's way from the sporadic on-coming traffic. (I guess with a lot of the summer people back home taking up the entire road as they walked, that careless habit must have rubbed off a bit on me, too.)

Figuring that it was going to be a short walk to the javelina sign, I didn't think to put on my hiking boots. I figured the red cowboy boots that I brought with me should get some use and that they would be good enough for that short walk. Besides, this time I remembered to wear my boonie hat.

Wrong again.

That javelina sign was much farther than I thought. Judging from the time it took for us to get there, it must have been a mile and a half. And it was not an easy walk either.

There was no such thing as totally flat and shaded pavement here. While the incline was nowhere near as brutal as the ones on Saguaro Hill and the ruins, there was just enough of an incline in this hot and shade-free climate for me to feel a little bit more than an easy moderate level of exertion.

In order for us to get off the road, we found a rocky path that ran parallel to the road. However, it would have been nice if the path were as straight and level as the road, because all those little dips and curves must have certainly put on more mileage on my boots than if we were to continue walking on the road.

Finally after all that sweating and huffing and puffing (at least on my part, because a Texas boy like Gary is already used to this kind of climate), we finally reached our destination.

Finally after all that sweating and huffing and puffing (at least on my part, because a Texas boy like Gary is already used to this kind of climate), we finally reached our destination.

Now was time to pause and take pictures. Even Gary took pictures because he had never seen a "JAVELINA X-ING" sign before, even though he has seen plenty of javelinas where he lives.

I got a kick out of the red reflector stuck on the javelina's nose. While I had seen plenty of such mischief on the "DEER X-ING" signs back home, I would have never expected such treatment of a "JAVELINA X-ING" sign.

After all, it makes sense with deer, seeing that everybody knows about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. But what have we here? Ramirez the Red-Nosed Javelina? Doesn't make for the best of alliterations when we're using javelinas instead of reindeer.

Having accomplished our mission, it was now time to turn around and make that long, hot walk back to the B & B. While walking, I could not help but notice these coyote tracks in the dirt. They had to be coyote tracks because all the time I was there I never saw a dog, or cat, wandering around.

But is that all surprising in a land where it's hot and there's plenty of coyotes and rattlesnakes?

One of the things that I found out was that pets here have to be snake-proofed.

Now what in God's name is snake-proofing? I certainly didn't know, so I had to ask.

Snake-proofing takes place with aversive conditioning. A shock collar is put around a pet's neck. Then the animal is allowed to have its natural curiosity manifest while it's exposed to a live rattlesnake, which is kept in a safe and secure container.

Whenever the animal approaches the rattlesnake, it receives a shock. After a sufficient number of shocks, the animal associates these painful sensations with the sight, sound, and smell of a rattlesnake. (Apparently, rattlesnakes also have a very unique scent.)

And that's how to snake-proof your pet in a nutshell.
With the proliferation of such noxious creatures, it is easy to see why people want to protect their pets by keeping them indoors. There are snakes ready to strike at every cactus. And those sweet kitty cats and cute little dogs make delicious coyote canapés.

Heading back, there's Black Mountain way up the road, the same mountain that I nearly drove off the day before.

While walking back, Gary wanted to stop and take pictures of the desert houses. You can barely see them in this picture. Look at how they blend in with their environment. However, they would stick out like a sore thumb in New England, just like a New England farm house would stick out in the Arizona desert.

Here's a closer view of those same houses in the picture above. A lot of the houses in Arizona are the adobe style houses that have been common to the Native Americans in that area. But instead of being built from sun-dried bricks of sand, clay, straw, and dung, these modern day adobe homes are made from poured concrete.

Also, I saw many houses that were going up that had particle board for the walls. And while such a material generally doesn't work well in humid climates like New England (even though contractors still use it because it's much cheaper than plywood), it's ideal for a hot, dry desert climate like Arizona. And besides, the concrete creates a pretty good seal against any possible moisture.

Here's a dark orange adobe house off in the distance. Notice that it's a different color than the previous adobe houses. I'm not sure if the color is added into the cement mixture or painted on later.

Here's that same house a little more up close. I wonder what those white patches by the windows are. Repair work perhaps?

It's an impressive structure, and it looks Italianate in some ways. Not all adobe homes follow the lines of traditional Native American adobe homes. Tuscan style adobe homes are also popular in Arizona.

Hey! We're getting closer to the B & B. I can see the Spur Cross Bed and Breakfast and even Carolyn's car in its parking spot. Behind the B & B is the Desert Foothills Library, which is presently under construction. (Gee! Just like our public library back home!)

And who can resist these 3 amigos? I must say, that I have really been taken in by the saguaro cacti. In fact, they were a big reason why I was looking forward to my trip to Arizona. I wanted to see cacti as tall as trees.

Even Gary could not resist taking a picture of these 3 fellows. There are no saguaro cacti in El Paso, Texas.

Saguaro cacti are only located in the Sonoran Desert, which straddles the U.S.-Mexican border. In the U.S., the Sonoran Desert is located in the southwest corner of Arizona and in a very small portion in the southeast of California.

Even though it may look like a hot, dry, and barren bit of land, the Sonoran Desert sports quite the vast diversity of plant, animal, and insect life. We are truly fortunate to have this unique treasure right here in our back yard!

Anyhow, we made it back to the B & B in one piece. I realized the mistake that I made when I took off my cowboy boots with that one pair of socks. There, on the base of both big toes, were 2 huge water blisters. In fact, the one on the left broke and was oozing plasma.

Boy! Did it sure feel good to get my dogs out of those boots and into a pair of comfy, broken-in sandals.

And now, time for Foster's party.

Day 2 - Pre Breakfast Adventure

Having been fully rested from the night before, today was the day for some adventuring.

Seeing that I'm still operating on east coast time, I got up early and decided to hike up the hill behind the B & B before breakfast.

That area behind the B & B is not just any nameless desert scenery. It's actually called the Caroline Bartol Preserve on Saguaro Hill and it's also the site of the Goldwater Memorial Garden, named for Senator Barry Goldwater.

I didn't see any obvious trails while I was going up the hill. But at least the vegetation wasn't closely packed together that I would have to bush-whack through thickets of thorny cacti and be caught unawares by hidden rattlesnakes.

It was 7 o'clock in the morning, and already the day was showing signs of getting hot. But I figured that a short hike up the hill behind the B & B wouldn't be such a big deal.

Anyhow, that hike was to be the first among several lessons in the rigors of desert hiking.

A little hill like that would have not given me much problem in the leafy forests of New England, not even for somebody who's no longer in the shape she used to be.

But here it's different. It's exposed. And it's hot.

So every several feet I found myself struggling to catch my breath ~ really catch my breath.

However I wasn't going to let a little hill like that get the better of me, even if it was hot and without a lick of shade.

While hiking up that hill, and other hills to follow, I discovered that here, in Arizona, when you think you've gotten to the top of the hill, there is a whole more hill left to go.

"Great," she says with sarcasm.

Still the view from the top was spectacular and well worth the effort.

You could see all this land spread out before the mountains. And you could see why this area is called the Desert Foothills.

All around you could see saguaro cacti. But then, what do you expect from a place called Saguaro Hill?

This is the spot of the Goldwater Memorial Garden. That stone wall makes a great place to catch your breath. And that's a good thing because there's still a lot more hill left to go.

Saguaros aren't the only cacti to occupy Saguaro Hill.

You certainly would not want to back up into this baby!

And here's another example why this place is called Saguaro Hill. Notice that pale green saguaro near the middle. Its color was really out of place with all the other saguaros.

Here's a dead saguaro. Dead saguaros are collected and used to make interesting sculptures as well as floor and table lamps. The center is hollow, and there's enough spacing in between the ribs for the light to shine through.

Here's another dead saguaro with its innards somewhat intact.

Gradually, I'm making my descent. There's the B & B down below.

As I get closer down, I get a better look at that odd-colored saguaro. It looks Gumby green to me. I haven't seen other saguaros that pale green color. (That's the Desert Foothills Library, that's under construction, behind ol' Gumby.)

This gives you an idea of how tall these suckers get. A saguaro cactus can easily get 30 to 40 feet tall. That's about the size of your average backyard maple.

And did you know that one foot of saguaro weighs 100 pounds? And that's not counting the weight of the arms. So when one of those beasts falls, get out of the way FAST!

Oh good! Finally I'm back down to the B & B. (That little tiny blob on the right edge is one of the hummingbird feeders at the Spur Cross.)

Boy! Was I ever glad to be done with that hike.

It's not that I didn't enjoy seeing all that beauty. It's that the hike took a lot out of me. I was winded, hot, and thirsty. My hands were experiencing this weird vibration from God knows what.

Even for such a short hike behind the B & B, I should have worn a hat and taken some water with me. I cannot begin to stress enough how important it is to have water with you constantly when you're outdoors in this kind of environment.

I still had about 15 to 20 minutes left before breakfast ~ enough time for me to suck down some water and suck up the AC in my room.

After all, it was still early in the morning, and I had more adventures awaiting me that day.