My Funny Valentine

Monster burritos for breakfast at the counter of the old Hitching Post Cafe before we headed down TX 166 toward Valentine. I decided to wait to gas up until then. Big mistake. The 2 lane road through the desert was posted 70 miles per hour and the only vehicle we saw was a tractor. Flat straight roads with majestic mountains looming in the distance. 36 miles later we stopped on the railroad tracks and looked up and down the line into infinity.


Valentine, population 187, is Big Bend's tiniest town. No doctor, no groceries, no gas, but they do have a post office where we stopped to mail a card to Jack and Polly. We're thinking of you guys... I asked the Post Mistress where I could buy gas. She said "Not here... 40 miles north in Van Horn. Hope you make it..." Me too. The drive was desolate and beautiful, the high mountains of the state of Chihuahua in Mexico just across the Rio Grande. Build a fence along this border to control illegal immigration? Ridiculous. We passed through the town of Lobo without knowing it.

We gassed up with a gallon to spare. When you know better, you do better. I'll do better next time. Onto I 10. The terrain became scrubby as we approached El Paso. We went through a border patrol check point. It approached without warning and the red pickup in front of us driven by a young male about went off the road throwing things out the window. They just waved us through and on the other side I could see him cussing his lost pharmaceuticals/herbs. There were more border patrol vehicles, helicopters flying over the river, trucks staked out on hills with binoculars. Serious business. The Mexican city of Ciudad Juarez, just across the bridge, is the epicenter of the Mexican drug war. Terrible atrocities. But the only real danger on this side of the river was the traffic. We were glad to have the big, ugly city behind us and we passed into New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment.

The 10 miles of dairy herds/slaughter houses along the highway reeked to high heaven. We stopped holding our breath at La Cruces. The road sign said."Zero Visibility Possible". Wind and sand. Take the paint right off your car. We talked about swinging down NM 146 to drive through Hachita, one of Moon's stops, but Winn Dixie (the Garmin) was telling us that we would reach Lynne and John by sundown if we trucked on. So on we pressed on through Apache Pass, Fort Boise, past Cochise and groves of pecans. The landscape suddenly dropped into a huge boulder field in Dragoon, similar to the Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs. Wish we had time to stop. Next time. Past Davis Mountain (popular name out here...), through beautiful Tucson ( sorry Sheryl and Ralph... deadlines), the Gila River Indian Reservation, Toltec, Picacho Peak and finally into Phoenix.

The sun was setting and the full moon was rising as we pulled into John and Lynne's beautiful adobe home in Scottsdale. The dogs went crazy, barking and jumping up on them. Don't tell me dogs forget... The beer was cold and the smoked salmon delicious as we sat on the floor and enjoyed company. Good friends. Good times. Good night...

Fort Davis

We sat on the sagging, sun bleached couch by the fireplace in the old rundown hotel and smelled the sweet aroma of burning mesquite wood. The nights were cool and the heat from the fire felt conforting. Fort Davis is the highest elevation county seat in Texas at 5050 feet and we noticed it. Six months at sea level in SSI didn't prepare us for this, but no complaints.

The Fort Davis County Library used to be a mercantile shop. They took the feed sacks, tractor parts and water pumps off the shelf and replaced them with books. Would have loved to spend more time there.

The next morning we took full advantage of the lobby coffee pot, hot, thick and dark roasted. We drove up through the canyons on TX 17 and up the skyway drive in the state park. The surrounding cliffs were known as the Apache Mountains, home to the Lipan and Mescalero Apache as well as the Kiawa Comanche prior to the arrival of the US Military in 1854.

Minimal traffic, no people, like we had the place all to ourselves. The Yucca plants were blooming and the view was spacious, big sky country. It seeps into you.

15 miles up the road, and I mean UP, we turned into the McDonald Observatory, the 432 inch Hobby-Eberly telescope is the 5th largest observatory in the world. They selected this location due to the absence of ambient light... One of the darkest places in the USA. Now that's something to be proud of. Amazing machines. Look close for the white dots on the mountain top.


The Chihuahuan Desert is a treeless desert of cacti, tumbleweeds, jackrabbits and rattlesnakes and perhaps the most diverse region in Texas. Elevations range from 8749 feet (Guadalupe Peak) to under 1000 feet in Del Rio. 106 peaks are over 7,000 feet, 20 are over 8,000 feet. Rainfall is around 6 inches annually. There are over 500 species of birds in the region.The hummingbirds were especially active around town. We came upon a herd (flock?) of Audad Big Horn Sheep and they politely posed for a quick picture.



There are 1,200 people in town, give or take, and Dean Bergman is one of them. 35 years old, 150 pounds overweight, a walking encyclopedia and proud owner of an eclectic junk shop named Possibilities. Dean sat in a worn, overstuffed chair literally surrounded by piles and bags of yard sale purchases, from floor to ceiling, which he meticulously opened and fondled. He considered naming his shop Possibilities Unlimited , but shied away from the moniker "PU". Dean talked nonstop, had no interest in me, was disturbingly egocentric, but appreciated my questions which allowed him to demonstrate his incredible mind. He talked about life in Ft Davis, the history, the people from away who move there and then try to change things to be like where they came from... and then move out in frustration. He laughed oddly as he described their faces when he informed them that the nearest WalMart was an hour and a half away. He said that when word gets out that someone is making a WalMart run everyone in town stops by with a list and the vehicle on the return trip is always packed to the hilt. Such is life in Ft. Davis.

Dinner was fresh baked biscuits, chicken fried chicken and grilled tomatoes/veggies with buttermilk pie for desert. Home cooking good. Tomorow we push for Arizona.

Into the wild...

Down TX 290 through Doss, a town consisting of a cafe and a taxidermy shop. Texas flags, fence posts, straight roads and 70 MPH speed limits past herds of deer, hawks and vultures overhead. The speed limit increased to 80mph, the highest posted speed limit in the USA, as we merged onto I 10... "The 10" they call it and they love their 10. Every 100 miles or so they change it's name.

It runs coast to coast from Jacksonville Florida to Santa Monica California, 2460.3 miles. In Florida they call it the Pearl Harbor Memorial Highway, as they do in part of Arizona, or State Road 8. In Alabama, a short stretch in Mobile is named the George Wallace Memorial Tunnel; Louisiana, the Afchafalaya Swamp Freeway, the Pontchartrain Expressway and the Stephen Ambrose Memorial Highway (a beloved historian from Univ of New Orleans). New Mexico calls it the 10. Arizona changes names 6 times; Pearl Harbor Memorial, Papago Freeway, Maricopa Freeway, Pima Freeway, Casa Grande Highway and the Tucson-Benson Highway. And into California where the road names include the Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Highway, the Santa Monica Freeway, the Rosa Parks Freeway, the San Bernadino Freeway and, our favorite, the Sonny Bono Memorial Freeway.

In Texas the name is Eastex Express in Beaumont and the Katy Freeway near Houston, but in west Texas they just call it "Is this road EVER going to end?" Actually the sign says it the Texas Pecos Trail. Low junipers, incredible sedimentary rock faces, big sky and long vistas. Magnificent. The signs along the road; "Drive Friendly", Best Western- 90 miles, anti-litering signs; "Drive Clean Across Texas" and "Don't Mess with Texas".


We pulled off for gas and food in Sonora. Lunch at the La Mexicana Taco Grill and unlike in Maine, more than just the name and the food were Mexican... everything was. Goooood tacos and smokin hot salsa.

The windmills appeared on the ridge of the northern mesa at mile marker 305 and continued uninterrupted to mile marker 283... 23 miles of huge, gleaming white, turning technology. Back East we can't comprehend such a thing at least not on this scale. The environmentalists would scream about sight pollution, the Audubon Society about bird injuries, the NIMBY neighbors would throw a fit. Construction would be halted by law suits for decades. But out here it seemed so right, so smart, to be harvesting power from the wind. Driving "The 10" is a humbling lesson in space and time. Everyone should get out of the woods and take the ride at least once. Awe inspiring.


We headed south in Fort Stockton, down through Pecos County, through Brewster County and into the town of Marathon. We saw 3 trucks along the 40 mile stretch through the high destert. Friends from Saint Simons Island in Georgia had recommended a bar at the Gauge Hotel. Good call Mimi and Jay. Loved the massive, albino buffalo head on the wall. And the beer was cold too.

We struck out for Alpine in Presidio County down TX 90 to find a place to hunker down for the night. Pickings were slim and at the Alpine Motor Inn, Connie vetoed the room due to incredible filth and disrepair. The headboard was ripped off the wall and the windows had such a thick layer of dust over them that the sunlight that was able to enter the room cast a gray hue. She said the marque which read " Fi' em S ed i e Y HY" was a dead give away.

So we headed 35 miles up TX 118 to Fort Davis, one of two towns in Jeff Davis County. Connie insisted that the name Davis was a good sign (my mom's family name) and, as usual, her intuition was smack on. The sun was setting and the colors morphed to golds and ambers 10 miles across the planes.


The Limpia Hotel is a delightful little old Texas establishment with lots of history. Don, the desk manager, offered us a Monday night special and we immediately decided to spend a few days exploring this enchanted land.

Too busy to blog...

We left Katy Texas and headed west towards San Antonio on a warm and windy Palm Sunday. The blue bonnets were in bloom along the highway and we chose to get off the beaten path and follow the "Blue Highways" that William Least Heat Moon described in his 1978 best seller traveling across the country. Much has changed and nothing has changed since then.

We picked up Texas Route 80 in Luling. We chose that town in honor of Lulu and it did not do justice to her. Windmills, cattle and fireworks stands. The oil wells pumped like prehistoric metal creatures and the smell of crude oil took me back to Sutton Vermont when dad was station master for the Portland Pipeline and we lived next to the pump station... 2 miles to our nearest neighbor and 10 miles to town. Good times.


The sign identified State 80 as the Texas Independence Trail and we wound our way into the Texas hill country. Distinctive iron gates along the highway announced this or that ranch; Eagles Peak Ranch, Rancho Mirado, Longhorn Ranch. Some were decorated with cattle skulls or eye catching wrought iron art. One billboard announced "Cowboys for Jesus". Another proclaimed the "Ron Paul Revolution". Through the sleepy town of Fentress and on to the college town of San Marcos. We picked up sandwiches and were looking for spot to picnic when we stumbled upon a football game being played in a used car parking lot. The Uni-Psychos and Team Krug were engaged in a serious contest complete with 3 scantily clad cheerleaders, 2 long haired referees wearing tie dye and a bearded announcer in sandals with a bull horn.

Nothing terrible unusual... except that all the players were riding unicycles.



We crossed TX 32 on the Texas Hill Country Trail past Purgatory Road, cactus and barbed wire, cattle guards and dirt roads... we were off the beaten path for awhile. North on TX 281 to Johnson City, quickly past LBJ and Ladybirds ranch, now an historic site, parking lots and guided tours, and down TX 290 (the Pearl Harbor Memorial Highway...??) into Fredericksburg for the night at a Super 8.

Most motels will allow small pets for a $10 fee which we feel is an absolute insult to our well behaved canines.They are better behaved than most humans... or at least we think so (are we biased?) Where the situation allows, we bend the rules and smuggle them into the room (they are finally getting comfortable with being stuffed into a bag), but when we do pay the fee we typically only pay for one and do the Sampson Shuffle (only one dog outside the room at a time... no one can tell them apart anyhow).

Moon writes about Fredericksberg and the memorial to native son Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, Commander and Chief of the US Naval Pacific Fleet in WWII. Central Texas seems like an odd place to hail from for such a man. And he was quite a man. The story goes that his grandfather, a former German seaman inspired his career path. He wrote, "The sea - like life itself - is a stern taskmaster. The best way to get along with either is to learn all you can, then do your best and don't worry - especially about things over which you have no control". Smart guy.

The State Historic Site on Main Street is five stories high and built to resemble the superstructure of a battleship, another oddity in the hill country of Central Texas. That night we walked Main Street and watched a blazing sunset over the courthouse. Connie's comment was
"Red sky at night,sailors delight... a good day tomorrow." I'm sure Admiral Nimitz was smiling .

On our way out of town the next morning, Connie hunted down a local shop known for their amber jewelry looking for a special birthday present for Kate. The shop is named Grace's Antiques (Connie is all about grace. She doesn't miss the small things...) and the owner, Price Larson, spent an hour telling us about the town, his life and the shop which amazingly enough is the actual birthplace of the Admiral. He let us wander around and showed us the loft where the 11 Nimitz children lived with their widowed mother. Price was interested and supportive of our journey and told us he was about to retire from retail to pursue his art... painting. Good luck Price and thanks for the beautiful green amber pendant. Kate loves it.

It's all about the people.

Becky... in our thoughts and prayers

New Orleans

We approached The Big Easy from the east through the bayou's and over the bridges, all under repair. Katrina's destruction was clearly evident along the way. Forests of trees with no tops, broken by the winds. Outside the city the huge Six Flags Amusement Park had been abandoned, roller coasters still standing, but never to run again. As we entered the city there were huge piles of scrap. Some neighborhoods seemed whole, but every here and there an abandoned building. And then there were neighborhoods where the levies hadn't held. They looked like Nagasaki...

We exited I10 onto Cross Street and down to the French Quarter where we parked the van and walked the length of Bourbon Street and back on Royal. 2 hours was more than enough for us. When Connie approached a mini skirted black woman sashaying in the middle of an intersection for directions, she responded politely in a deep male voice. Connie was stunned. I laughed all the way back to the van.

Off to Baton Rouge, one time home of my old friend, Rudy Wright, now gone. As he used to say, " Time to piss on the fire and call off the dogs." Long day...

On the road..

We drove off Saint Simons Island in the rain on April Fool's Day morning. It had rained so hard all that night, with heavy thunder and lightning, that the water came under the wall and flooded the living room of the Cummings Lane cottage. An auspicious beginning...

Down GA 17 and south on I95 to FL A1A. Everything was flooded, the swamps overflowing, roads closed, rivers brown with mud and over their banks. But the roads were good and when we connected with US10 in Glen St. Mary we made good time across to Pensacola where we hunkered down for the night.

We love the travel, even the long days, but more than that we enjoy the passing contacts/conversations with people on the road. The Amish woman in full dress in the Dollar Saver Store in Crawford; Maurice the black maintenance man at the Red Roof Inn; Luis, the young Mexican who served us dinner. Their stories add the spice to the adventure. And this part of the world is all about spice.

The weather report the next morning was ominous. Strong storms and reports that the drought in the Southeast was officially over... one less thing. We crossed the "Bay-Way" into Mobile and took State Highway 90 down along the coast through Saint Elmo and into Mississippi. By the time we got to Pascagoula the sky was beginning to look very strange. High clouds with funny swirls and motions. The radio was broadcasting emergency weather alerts every hour or so.

As we crossed the bridge toward Biloxi, we could see the storm approaching from the west, dark and dangerous looking. The emergency broadcasts were coming every 15 minutes now warning that a tornado had touched down in Bay St Louis and was headed up the coast... toward Biloxi. The report warned of nickle sized hail and continuous cloud to ground lightening. It was time to take deliberate steps to protect ourselves.

We drove directly to a McDonalds and bought ice cream sundaes and coffee. Can't enjoy the show without refreshments... Next we drove toward the storm until we found a self car wash to protect the van from hail. At this piont the radio warnings were every 5 minutes. We ate our treats and watched the storm intensify. Sampson was panting, shaking all over, eyes wild. Lulu wouldn't leave Connie's lap. The rain and the wind built to where it was raining sideways and the windshield wipers were useless. All the lights went off but with the constant lightening flashes we didn't notice. And then suddenly it stopped... We never saw the twister. Reports said it went north of us.

It was frightening, but at the same time an awesome and powerful thing to see.

Moving on

"I have gone to look for myself. If I should return before I get back, keep me here."

Last night we had a fire out front and burned up the last of the wood that Steve brought us... time to move on. Jay, Mimi and Dan stopped by. Nice night.

On Sunday the bookstore crew met on our back porch for our weekly gathering. There were 3 lawyers, 3 marathon runners, 3 septuagenarians, one octogenarian, 5 former military, 2 women and one Mainer. Thanks for including me.


This afternoon we stopped by for tea with Jo. We did a little gardening, some computer work, some bird watching (the cardinal came...), read some poetry and counted our blessings... a typical visit with our dear friend Jo.


Saint Simons is a special place. We think we might just have to come back.

Until then...

Bill and Betty

The license plate was a sure giveaway that our friends Bill and Betty had arrived (He's a bail bondsman...among many other things)


They had driven down from Hilton Head and stopped by Saint Simons on their way to New Smyrna Beach Florida. We were delighted to show them around the island and we enjoyed a great meal at the Bonefish Restaurant. (Thanks Bill and Betty... four spoons with one dessert! Fun.)

Sampson bonded (no pun intended) with Bill immediately. They played fetch for 3 hours. That man needs a dog! Couldn't get the smile off either of their faces. Finally Lulu needed some attention, jumped up in his lap and stayed there!

So nice to see a couple truly relaxing and getting away from the cold northern weather. Stay well Bill and Betty. Safe travels!

Designs in the Sand

The designs in the sand out on the sandbar today were "out of this world". They looked like pictures from the Hubble Telescope of some distant galaxy. That would make sense... energy acting on matter... on a grand scale. Pretty good bet the subatomic landscape looks similar, not like the high school proton, neutron, electron simplified model we were all taught.


Here's The Whirlpool Galaxy M51... see what I mean?

These shots reminded me of the beauty of the Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico... sand-lagtites?





Speaking of space... the Space Shuttle Discovery launched an hour ago. We stood on the shore by the lighthouse watching some dolphins fishing as the bright orange fireball leapt out of the ocean to the south. It streaked toward the heavens leaving a white contrail which caught the rays of the setting sun, morphing into pinks and blues. The booster rockets fell away and the brilliant wonder accelerated into earth orbit and out of our sight. Incredible.


Bucket List Item #11: Watch a Shuttle launch... Check.

Awesome day.

Shapes, Shadows & Spanish Moss

75 degrees and brilliant blue skies, a perfect day to peddle the 10 miles of bike paths on Jekyll Island. Everywhere we looked there were shapes. shadows and Spanish Moss. A spectacular day.

Arches and graceful angles, from the fishing pier at the north end of the island...


to the spires of Crane's "Cottage" originally built when the Vanderbilts, Goodyears, Pulitzers and Carnegies claimed the island for the rich and famous in the early 1900's...


to the awesome engineering marvel of the Jekyll Island bridge.


The moss hung ethereal...


shadowing the Long Leaf Pines and the Live Oaks...


gnarled over time by the sea breezes.


Magnificent. Mysterious. Magical.

Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday)

Sometimes ya just gotta howl...

Friends from Home

Brian & Anna stopped by on their tour of the Georgia coast. Brian is an emergency room physician and several local hospitals are working diligently to attract him to their facilities. Anna is the mother of Katie's good friend, Lindsay, and an emergency room nurse. Good friends.


They loved SSI and we spent our time together exploring. Anna's favorite spot was the Crab Trap and the delicious Apalachicola oysters. Brian loved the fact that he didn't have to wear a jacket. Spring comes early in the South.

Great to see our friends. Thanks for taking time to visit!

The Twelve Tribes of Israel

Tonight I enjoyed the hospitality of a wonderful group of people on the mainland. Our friend Jo and I attended dinner with two dozen members of "The Community", an extended family of Christians who live and work communally from their large home off Union Street. They run a great bakery and are building a restaurant nearby. Ryan and Katie met one of their members, John, over Christmas while he was doing some carpentry work for Jo. Tonight I got to meet some of his beautiful family. Amazingly, two of his daughters live across the street from Ryan's work at DeLorme in Yarmouth.

The Community celebrates Shabbat beginning at sundown on Friday and the Sabbath on Saturday according to the scriptures. The evening included a social time of conversation, music, singing, dancing and thanksgiving. A fine meal was served including organic spaghetti, fresh baked bread and mate, a Brazilian green tea. Delicious!

The men wear beards, their hair long and pulled back with head bands. The women also wear their hair long and wear long flowing dresses. The children and young people are precious, participating fully in the dancing, serving the food and conversing with guests. There is a clear light in their eyes.

These people found their origins in the Jesus Movement of the early seventies. I spent time with those "Jesus Hippies" in those days, in my seeking early 20's and always wondered what had become of them. They are still here. And they are thriving. They have communities in a dozen countries from Brazil to Australia to Germany. And there are groups living simply and productively throughout the United States; Brunswick and Savannah Georgia, Chattanooga Tennessee, Colorado Springs, Bellows Falls and Island Pond Vermont, Cambridge NY, Gorham Maine...

These are gentle, peaceful people living life according to their understanding of God's call. In their thanksgiving, He is referred to by his Hebrew name, Yahweh and Jesus, Yahshua. They live communally, sharing their resources and their talents, home schooling their children and welcoming anyone who walks through their door.

So thank you John, for the fellowship and the meal. And for sending some of that outstanding jalipino bread up to Ryan and Katie via your daughters on their return to Maine.

Is is possible that all the syncronicities of life are simply random?.... Don't think so. God is great..

the neighborhood

Visitor news...

Lorrie and Ron swung through for an enjoyable evening on their way to Amelia Island to see Clint. We enjoyed some time together around an outdoor fire under the live oaks with some greentini's. Remarkable and refreshing libation! Lots of laughs. Perhaps we will hook up in Carlsbad CA if/when we get to the west coast.

Connie is flying up to snowy Albany tomorrow for some much needed Tina time. Mike arranged the flights. Thank you brother-in-law.

Brian and Anna are expected to stop on their explorations along the Georgia coast in the next few days. Look forward to seeing them. It's been a brutal winter for them in Maine (and not just the weather...)

And Rosie flew home a week ago looking "mahvelous"; coiffed, refreshed, rejuvenated, renewed from her time at "Miss Connie Sue's Health Spa".

Last night Connie's Sisterhood of the Traveling Scissors convened for two trims for Mimi and Shelly. All that practice on Sampson and Delilah has paid off... Anyone need a puppy cup?


Sam n' Lu missing you...

Photography from Maine

Obviously, sister Wendy has the same photographer's eye as sister Gail. Nice to have some talent in the family...

Breaking news; Photo's were taken by Dree on a recent trip from England. How were the coffee houses in Amsterdam Mick and Dree?

"Scribblers Retreat" Writer's Conference

I'm excited. I just signed up for a 3 day writer's conference on the Island. In the unlikely event someone wants to read my writing I need to be able to direct them to a central location; either that or hand them hard copy. And so, lacking a printer ( and a house for that matter), I will use the blog. Who has more fun than people...?

Essay "The Oprah 'Thing' "
http://gdfoss.blogspot.com/2008/11/where-do-we-begin.html

Essay "Shadow Boxes"
http://gdfoss.blogspot.com/2008/12/december-2nd-updates.html

Essay "Tsesyu Cafe"
http://gdfoss.blogspot.com/2008/07/tsesyu-cafe-alabaskan-indian-word-for.html

Essay "Great Gram"
http://gdfoss.blogspot.com/2009/01/abbie-emma-york-willard.html

Essay "Lulu's Fishing Story"
http://gdfoss.blogspot.com/2008/06/sitting-on-bench-at-days-store.html

Essay"Terminal Technocity"
http://gdfoss.blogspot.com/2007/11/terminal-technocity.html

Essay "The Other Side"
http://gdfoss.blogspot.com/2008/12/december-8th.html

Essay "Who Has More Fun Than People"
http://gdfoss.blogspot.com/2007/11/who-has-more-fun-than-people.html

for more essays contact gdfoss@gmail.com