March 2020
Books read:
- Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese
- Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor E. Frankl
- Educated by Tara Westover
- How to Live: or A Life of Montaigne by Sarah Bakewell
- The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
Trails walked:
- Second Water Canyon in the Superstitions (March 4th)
- Superior/Globe/Salt River road trip (March 13th)
- Piestewa (aka Squaw) Peak (various)
- Elephant Mountain near Cave Creek (March 25th)
Song of the month:
- Mercy Now by Mary Gauthier https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IT7NiFpJmvI
March in the valley is nearly perfect. Spring wildflowers are blooming, baseball’s spring training brings visitors…. oh, wait that was canceled. Well, thankfully there are many fun festivals here this time of…. what, those are canceled too? At least you have March Madness basketball and its excitement…. never mind, that was canceled. Well, the NBA and NHL playoffs are just around the…. nope. You know what you CAN still do though? Walk and read books. So, I guess my life hasn’t changed much (although the library did close, but luckily, I have several unread books in my personal library, and maybe I need to consider that E-book thingy I hear people talk about). You’ve read enough about this pandemic and you’ve received emails from every company you’ve ever done business with saying how they care about you and are doing all they can to see to your needs in this difficult time, blah, blah, blah, so I’ll try not to say too much about the virus and the way it’s been handled, other than to introduce you to Mary Gauthier’s haunting Mercy Now as song of the month in these troubled times.
OK, well I changed my mind, this is too big, I have to say
something. In “The Poisonwood Bible”, one of this month’s books, there is a
quote: “The sting of a fly, the Congolese say, can launch the end of the world.”
That quote hits close to home these days,
except maybe replace a fly in the Congo with a bat in China. The message in the book was a double entendre,
meant to indicate how small things can impact lives in many ways and also that
a disease from a bug can spread quickly and kill many. The coronavirus has changed the world and left
us staggered. There have been predictions
of something like this happening, but most of us choose to ignore those
warnings, because they always seem too far away or too unlikely or too alarmist
or other people’s problems (sort of like climate change). But here
we are. What do we do? Even the experts have differing opinions
because we don’t have enough reliable data yet.
I’ve heard of fatality rates from 0.1% up to 10% with it narrowing to
1-3% at this time. And we don’t really know the infection rate. If a quarter of
the people in the US get infected and the fatality rate is 0.1%, that is 160,000
deaths; if the fatality rate is 10%, that’s 16 million deaths; and those numbers
change greatly depending on how many get infected. The latest prediction I’ve heard from Anthony
Fauci is 100,000-200,000 deaths in the US. That’s about how many people die
each year in the US from unintentional accidents (car accidents, falling off
ladders, etc.). Here are the number of
deaths in the US in 2018 per the CDC:
Heart Disease
|
647,457
|
Cancer
|
599,108
|
Accidents
|
169,936
|
Lower Respiratory
|
160,201
|
Stroke
|
146,383
|
Alzheimers
|
121,404
|
Diabetes
|
83,564
|
Flu/Pneumonia
|
55,672
|
Kidney disease
|
50,633
|
Suicide
|
47,173
|
All other
|
731,972
|
Total
|
2,813,503
|
Note: there were around 15,000 non-suicide gun deaths in
2018
So infection rate and fatality rate will determine where the number of coronavirus deaths will end up on that chart above. The big question in front of world leaders is: Do we put the brakes on the world economy to contain this
virus? The answers differ by country,
but containment by isolation seems to be the consensus at this point, especially to prevent inundating our health care system. But for how long can we keep isolated? How many businesses will go under and how many
jobs will be lost? I certainly don’t know the answer. I read an article recently from a student in
Kenya, welcoming coronavirus to his country.
His message was basically, we are not afraid of you because there are so
many other things here than can kill us with greater efficiency.
I thought that was profound, especially after reading 2 great novels set
in Africa this month (in Ethiopia and Congo).
In the 1700s, parts of Europe were purposefully infecting people with mild cases of smallpox (variolation is the term for this) in order to immunize them from contracting the disease naturally. This process had been used in China in the 11th century and in Africa and the Middle East in the 1500s and 1600s. With variolation, "only" 1-2% died as opposed to the 30% who died if contracting smallpox naturally. Even with so many people (1-2%) dying from variolation, it’s been credited with significantly slowing the ravage of smallpox in Europe and in America. George Washington had his troops variolated as he prepared them for the war for independence, and Thomas Jefferson had his entire family variolated (not sure if he included his slaves). Eventually in 1796 a vaccine using cowpox from cattle became a much safer way to immunize people instead of variolation (interesting note: vaccine is from the Latin vacca, meaning cow). We certainly don't want to inject people with coronavirus if the fatality rate from natural contraction is "only" 1-3%, but what if it's 10-15%? I doubt anyone is going to volunteer their baby to get injected with coronavirus in any case. So, we wait for a vaccine and the necessarily lengthy test period it requires and hope that containment measures keep the infection and fatality rates as low as possible.
In the 1700s, parts of Europe were purposefully infecting people with mild cases of smallpox (variolation is the term for this) in order to immunize them from contracting the disease naturally. This process had been used in China in the 11th century and in Africa and the Middle East in the 1500s and 1600s. With variolation, "only" 1-2% died as opposed to the 30% who died if contracting smallpox naturally. Even with so many people (1-2%) dying from variolation, it’s been credited with significantly slowing the ravage of smallpox in Europe and in America. George Washington had his troops variolated as he prepared them for the war for independence, and Thomas Jefferson had his entire family variolated (not sure if he included his slaves). Eventually in 1796 a vaccine using cowpox from cattle became a much safer way to immunize people instead of variolation (interesting note: vaccine is from the Latin vacca, meaning cow). We certainly don't want to inject people with coronavirus if the fatality rate from natural contraction is "only" 1-3%, but what if it's 10-15%? I doubt anyone is going to volunteer their baby to get injected with coronavirus in any case. So, we wait for a vaccine and the necessarily lengthy test period it requires and hope that containment measures keep the infection and fatality rates as low as possible.
This thing is personal for many of us. My daughter is an ER nurse, working in a Covid-19 clinic. My son and his wife
have a newborn baby that was born 7 weeks premature (see January
2020 blog) in a city rife with the virus.
One of my past bosses in France has died from the virus. In times such
as these, most of us seem to come back to what’s important in life: Family, friends, community, kindness, health,
generosity, tolerance, patience, finding the best in each other. But as soon as everything gets back to
normal, most of us will forget about them as we rejoin the rat race, unless…. There are many bad things happening now and
there will be for weeks or months to come.
However, here are some of the positive things I’ve noticed in the past
few weeks:
- families and couples riding bikes together way more than usual
- families having picnics at the park, also way more than usual
- families playing badminton in the street
- air pollution decreasing due to fewer CO2 emissions(an unintended experiment)
- lots of hikers out enjoying the wildflowers (Arizona hasn’t been on total lock-down like other states at the time of publication of this post)
- the canals in Venice are clearing up and dolphins are swimming in them
- singers in Europe are giving concerts from their balconies for the neighbors to hear…ok this could be a bad thing if the singers are terrible…
Also, here are some of the groups of people I'm thankful for during this crisis:
- Doctors and Nurses
- Postal workers
- Package and food delivery drivers
- Grocery store workers and the poor teenage kids wiping down carts and handing them to you
- Athletes and corporations giving their money to those in need
- Restaurant owners cooking food for health care workers and others in need
- The Hispanic workers fixing my roof (and many other leaky roofs from all the rains we've had)
- The people working to keep the internet and wireless lines working
- Comedians finding the humor in all this
- People who maintain positive and uplifting attitudes helping to uplift everyone around them
In these divisive times, it’s refreshing to see, and I hope much of it becomes more ingrained in our everyday lives. However I'm not at all thankful for our politicians and political media. Unfortunately, this virus has done nothing to close the political divide and seems to have ripped it even further apart; I am very concerned about this because I see no solution as the social and unsocial media have now created two separate universes. Who will be the one to bring them together? Is it even possible? More on this in the November 2020 blog I imagine….
This month I’ve read two terrific novels set in Africa, two philosophy
books about the meaning of life and how to live, and one memoir about how a young
woman was able to overcome a very strange family upbringing and become the best
she could be. I’ve also made excursions into the
Superstitions, the Salt River, Spur Cross, and I’ve finally decided to write about my standard workout hike here in the valley.

My church and my country could use a little mercy now
As they sink into a poisoned pit it's going to take forever to climb out
They carry the weight of the faithful who follow them down
I love my church and country, they could use some mercy now
I thought that this song was just what the world needs these days…. a little mercy.

It’s a long book, over 600 pages, but I was happy about this
since I was able to spend more time with it.
I enjoy stories that take you to interesting places around the world
and, in addition to Ethiopia, this story took me to India, Yemen, Sudan, and
eventually to the Bronx. The narrator
begins the story with his birth, along with his twin brother, to a Carmelite nun. No other details are given yet, but you know
there is an interesting story already with twins being born to a nun. From here, the story goes back and forth
between the dramatic delivery and the story of the nun and the hospital’s
surgeon who was the presumed father. The
story then moves to the raising of the twins on the hospital grounds there in
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia and how their lives become intertwined with the country’s
volatile political situation. The author
takes time to describe the twins as young boys, then teens, and adults; along
with all of life’s beauty and tragedy along the way.
I feel like I learned so much while I was being
entertained. Did you know that the first
coffee beans on earth originated in Ethiopia?
Or that it is the most populated landlocked country on
earth? The capital, Addis Ababa, sits at
8,000 feet elevation. The Rastafarian
religious sect in Jamaica was based on their belief that Haile Selassie, the
Emperor of Ethiopia between 1930 and 1974, was the second coming of Christ (who
knew!?). Ethiopia is known as Abyssinia
in the bible. And many ascribe Ethiopia
as the only African country not to be colonized (although the Italians, led by
Mussolini, briefly annexed it from 1936 to 1941). And then there are the medical procedures
described in all their gory and amazing detail.
The author knows of what he speaks.
Here are some interesting quotes and excerpts from the book:
·
A rich man’s faults are covered with money, but
a surgeon’s faults are covered with earth.
·
That’s the funny thing about America – the
blessed thing. As many people as there
are to hold you back, there are angels whose humanity makes up for all the
others.
·
Travel expands the mind and loosens the bowels.
·
Everything you see and do and touch, every seed
you sow or don’t sow, becomes part of your destiny.
·
Rosina stood there, beseeching with her eyes,
pleading for forgiveness. But a child’s
ability for reprisal is infinite and can last a lifetime.
·
The Hippocratic oath is if you are sitting in
London and drinking tea. No such oaths
here in the jungle. I know my
obligations.

We started out at the popular First Water Trailhead, then turned
left at the Lost Dutchman/Second Water junction to follow the Second Water
trail for around three miles. We started
heading off trail south in what I thought was Second Water Canyon and HB kept
telling me this didn’t look right on his GPS, but I kept insisting it was. Well, I was wrong, and we had a nice detour
up a small canyon (Third Water Canyon?).
We headed back down the main trail for another quarter mile or so and
there was a REAL canyon heading south.
We stopped to have lunch in the shade of this pretty place to fortify
ourselves for the walk up the canyon.
There was a LOT of water and we enjoyed scrambling around the pools for
around a quarter of a mile to where we thought the mining camp would be. After some searching, we found remnants of an
old metal cot (with a folded-up tent underneath), a handle-less shovel, some
old cans and pots and pans, and…. duct tape?
We scanned the hills above us for a mine shaft but couldn’t find any
evidence and we had already spent our searching energy in the wrong canyon, so
I guess we’ll save it for another time. We
also saw our first rattlesnake of the year on the hike. HB heard it first and told everyone to stop….it
rattled lightly again, and we looked and saw it was around 5 feet away trying
to hide from us. He (she?) was pretty
lethargic as I’m sure it was just slithering out of its winter den. I give it credit for at least trying to warn
us. Good snake! The hike back was pleasant with temps in the
upper 60s and lower 70s. Another
beautiful day in the Supes.
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Water in most creek crossings from all the rain |
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Sun reflections |
"3rd Water Canyon" |
2nd Water Canyon scramble
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2nd Water Canyon reflections |
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Garden Valley with "just the tip!" of Weaver's Needle |
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Saguaro lovers |
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Grassy area near the mining camp |
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Mining camp tools |
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Old cot and tent |
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Arch, rock, water |
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The rugged Superstitions |
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First rattlesnake of the season |

The book is separated into 2 basic sections (my version also
had a 1984 postscript from the author on something called Tragic Optimism,
which I didn’t really understand well).
The first section is sort of a memoir of his time spent in Nazi
concentration camps at Auschwitz and Dachau.
As any holocaust description, the suffering encountered by these poor
souls is horrendous and heart wrenching. We’ve all heard the stories or seen
the pictures and videos. The second
section deals with his field of psychological study called logotherapy and how
his experience in the concentration camps helped to hone his view on how to
resolve his patients’ mental ills.
Logos, in Greek philosophy and theology, means the divine reason
implicit in the cosmos, ordering it and giving it form and meaning. What Frankl did was help his patients find
the specific meaning in their lives, and once they found their own personal
meaning, they would be healed. He
admits that there are other psychological disorders in which this therapy would
not work, however he believed that it could work in most cases of depression
and anxiety.
Although I found the message somewhat simplistic, I totally
agree with it. It seems implicit to me
that in order to have a happy and fulfilling life, there must be some specific
drive towards an end (meaning), whether it’s a social cause you believe in or
helping someone you believe in or creating something you believe in or even the
desire to do good enough works to make it into heaven. In the concentration camps he could tell when
someone was going to die – they gave up believing in a future; whereas the ones
who survived kept alive in their heads either a family member or a piece of
work they’ve created or will create in the future.
Here are some of the excerpts from the book which I found interesting:
Here are some of the excerpts from the book which I found interesting:
The more one forgets himself – by giving himself to a cause
to serve or to another person to love – the more human he is and the more he
actualizes himself.
The meaning of life always changes, but it never ceases to
be.
You can discover meaning in your life:
- By creating a work or doing a deed
- By experiencing something or encountering someone
- By the attitude we take toward unavoidable suffering
When we are no longer able to change a situation (like
cancer), then we are challenged to change ourselves.

Next, I drove further east to Globe where I visited the Besh-Ba-Gowah
archaeological park and museum (the name translates to Place of Metal which is
appropriate for this mining area). The
Salado Indians inhabited this area from 1250-1400 CE and this site has been
excavated at various times during the 1900s.
It’s a beautifully restored village which also has an unexcavated area
to give you an idea of the work involved to show what these places really
looked like. The small museum has many
samples of arrowheads, pottery, bows, and jewelry from the time the village was
populated.
After visiting the restored ruins, I headed to the historic
downtown area of Globe and grabbed a coffee at one of the quirky little coffee
shops in the area. Globe was named after
a globe-shaped silver nugget found in the area in the late 1800s. The town and its sister towns of Miami,
Claypool, and Superior were huge copper mining towns that had a lot of success
during the two world wars, but since then the copper economy has faltered and the
towns have struggled which is obvious from the main road as you drive through
the towns and see all the closed and dilapidated buildings. However, the historic downtown area seems to
be trying to revive itself. There are several
shops and restaurants and the old buildings give it a certain charm. I could see this converting into a sort of
artists town like Bisbee. I hope it
happens (maybe it has, and I just don’t know it).
I headed northeast on US60 to the Salt River Bridge to meet
my daughter. Wow, the Salt River was
roaring! With the 4 straight days of
rain, it was running at 15,000 cubic feet per second! That is 10 times the average for this time of
year. There were tree sized logs
floating (rocketing) down the river. Of
course, I was a bit nervous about my daughter rafting this, until I reminded
myself that she’s rafted the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon for 10 years,
she’ll be fine. So, daughter and I had a
nice talk and a short walk along the river before parting ways. I headed back home and got some great shots
of the Superstitions filled with clouds.
A nice little Arizona road trip.
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Picketpost Mountain from a bridge over Queen Creek in Superior |
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The normally dry Queen Creek |
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Superior Murals |
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Superior Murals |
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Superior Murals |
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Apache Leap from downtown Superior |
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Entry way to Besh-Ba-Gowah archaeological park |
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Community Building Besh-Ba-Gowah archaeological park |
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Besh-Ba-Gowah archaeological park |
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A little barrel cactus fruit color |
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Salt River looking like the Colorado River |
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Nice view of Salt River Canyon |
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Salt River raging |
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Swift boat rescue practice |
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Walk along the Salt River |
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Clouds over the Superstitions on the way home |
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Sun and clouds over the Superstitions |
Educated by Tara Westover: Even though this came out in the same year as memoirs from Michelle Obama and Sally Field, it won several “best of” awards. Including Goodreads Choice Award for Memoir, Book of the Year by the American Booksellers Association, Audible's Best Memoir of the Year, and Amazon Editors' #1 pick for the Best Book of 2018. It certainly was a page turner for me. The life this woman had to overcome in order to make a new life of her own is almost unbelievable. And there are some critics that claim it’s a bit too unbelievable. After watching some of her interviews on her book tour I’m in the “believe her” school.
Tara was raised in the rural southeast corner of Idaho near
Buck’s Peak by a Mormon family whose father was apparently bipolar and held
strong religious and anti-government beliefs (the Ruby Ridge incident in Idaho
in 1992 had a profound impact on her father’s views of the government). The children were not allowed to attend any
public school nor were they allowed to be vaccinated nor visit doctors or
hospitals for any reason. Any injuries
sustained (and there were many in the livelihood the father created for the
family) were in the hands of God and any homeopathic help from their
mother. The family made money from their mother's midwifing and homeopathy cures and their father’s scrap metal collection business and side jobs building barns and other
large structures. Most of the money they
made went into buying food and fuel in order to prepare for the End Days
forecasted several times over the years by their father. One of Tara’s brothers apparently abused her
physically and emotionally throughout much of her childhood and her stories of
that abuse are frightening. But buried in all this madness was a childhood filled with adventures and a sense of personal
responsibility that is probably missing more and more in today’s society. She was free to roam the mountain at a young
age and if she ran into problems, she was on her own to figure it out. Her family was fiercely loyal. The brother that abused her also saved her
life (or at least saved her from critical injury) on more than one
occasion. All of this combined to make
it difficult, psychologically, for her to deal with in her later years when she
left home.
With the help of one of her other brothers, she self-studied
for the ACT exam and eventually got accepted into BYU. She struggled initially in college because
she hadn’t learned about basic things like the holocaust or the civil rights
movement. But eventually, with the help
of a Mormon bishop and a professor, her grades improved, and she eventually was
accepted as a Gates Scholar to Cambridge in England (equivalent to an Oxford
Rhodes scholar). If her time at BYU was
a "fish out of water" story, then her time in Europe was that and more. Somehow, she ended up with a Master of
Philosophy and a PhD in History from Cambridge, along with a fellowship at
Harvard. This from a girl with no K-12
education (not even home schooling). The
story is incredible. While at Harvard
she tried to confront her parents about her brother’s abuse. Unfortunately, they didn’t believe her,
claiming she was possessed by the devil, and eventually banned her from the
family. She spent years dealing with the
psychological trauma of this banishment, but eventually overcame it with
counseling help at Harvard. Today she is
still close with about half of her siblings and most of her aunts and uncles,
but it seems her relationship with her parents and some other siblings is
irreparable. What a story, and what an
incredible young woman.

The trail has undergone many changes since I first started
hiking it, not the least of which was its name change in 2003. There was a LOT of controversy over this and
there still is today. The main reason
for the name change was the opinion of many Native Americans that the term “squaw”
has evolved into a derogatory term over time (as many terms have in the past). Initially, the pilgrims first heard the name
in reference to young Indian women and for much of the early years of the white
man in this country it seemed the term was not used or meant in any derogatory way. However, as settlers began moving west in the
1800s more conflicts emerged for resources and as a deeper rift formed between
Native Americans and white settlers, the term began to be used in a more hateful
way. There is at least one tribe that translates
it to mean a slanderous term for female genitalia and many people have taken up
that cause for a reason to change all place names with that reference. Anthropologists and linguists have studied this
issue over the years and it seems that the general (though not total) consensus
now is that since the term is perceived by many to be derogatory, then perhaps
it is best to find a different, more appropriate name.
Lori Piestewa was a member of the Hopi tribe and was killed
in the Iraq War in 2003. She is
considered to be the first female Native American killed in combat fighting for
the U.S. So, the person picked for the
new name seems like a brilliant choice to me.
There was a rule in place (and still is I believe), that a person had to
be deceased for at least 5 years before the U.S. Board on Geographic Names
would officially change the name of a feature, however the Arizona governor at
the time (Janet Napolitano) brute forced the name change in 2003 to the joy of many and
the consternation of many others.
Finally, in 2008 (5 years after Piestewa’s death), the U.S. Board on
Geographic Names officially changed the name to Piestewa Peak. Ironically, the street leading up to the trailhead
is still named Squaw Peak. And there are
still nearly 1,000 place names in the US containing the name Squaw.
For me, personally, it’s really hard to change my reference
of the peak from Squaw to Piestewa, even though I agree with the reason for changing
it. I mean, I still open the cabinet we
used to put our glasses in even though we moved them to a different cabinet 13
years ago! Human habit is slow to
change. So, I apologize to everyone in
the world if you hear me using the term Squaw Peak. I mean no harm, really. Every now and then I surprise myself and get
it right!
Even though the peak is relatively young at 14 million years old, much of the rock you see is 2 billion year-old Precambrian schist coughed up from the bowels of the earth during the San Andreas fault formation. The hike itself is tough from the very start (tough as schist!). It is steep the entire 1.2 miles and during
the summer there are many rescues on this hill. I sometimes call it the anthill because it’s
so popular and so crowded. But even with
the crowds, the workout is worth the price, and the 360-degree views from on
top are unsurpassed in the valley. I’ve
seen many full moon rises and sunsets from here; I’ve been caught in haboobs and
lightening storms; I’ve seen rattlesnakes and ringtail cats; I’ve seen people
fall and hurt themselves (my wife saw someone collapse and die); and I’ve seen myself
age from my 20s into my 60s. It holds a
special place in my heart and no matter the crowds and the heat and the name, I
will always love this peak.
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Looking west from the trail |
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Looking south |
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Looking east at Camelback Mountain |
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Looking north |
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The parking lot and other minor peaks in the area |
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New parking area and bridge |
How to Live: or A Life of Montaigne by Sarah Bakewell: This book was awarded the 2010 National Book Critics Circle Award for Biography. “This idea - writing about oneself to create a mirror in which other people recognize their own humanity - has not existed forever,” Ms. Bakewell writes. “It had to be invented. And, unlike many cultural inventions, it can be traced to a single person.” That person is Michel Eyquem de Montaigne. One could say that he was the world’s first blogger. He wrote about everyday occurrences in his life and various things he would observe. The book’s website states that it deals with “How to get along with people, how to deal with violence, how to adjust to losing someone you love—such questions arise in most people’s lives. They are all versions of a bigger question: How do you live?”
Throughout his 20 years of writing (after retiring from his
public service job) he showed how one could grow and change their opinions
about issues large and small. Montaigne
was born in 1533 and died in 1592 at 59 years old from complications due to
kidney stones from which he suffered all his life (of which I can relate). His life was very strange. When he was born, his father sent him to a
village to be nursed and then weaned by a peasant family (wet nurses were
common then, however normally the wet nurse would come into the child’s home, not
the other way around). His father did
this as an experiment so that his son would have an innate sympathy for the
peasant’s life since he envisioned a life of politics for Michel. When Montaigne returned home from the peasant
family (after either 1, 2 or 3 years, depending on the source), his father
hired a Latin instructor to teach his son the language of the philosophers so
that it would be his first language.
Other household members were not allowed to speak to Montaigne in his
native French; they had to learn Latin if they wanted to talk to him. This experiment stopped when he was 6 years old,
at which time his father sent him to a private school in Bordeaux where he spent
most of his next 10 years. He later studied
law and eventually became part of the legal court system near Bordeaux.
He worked in the local parliament for 16 years, and then
after a horrific horse-riding accident that nearly killed him, he retired and
began writing his “Essays”, which would become one of the most famous documents
of the 16th century, and which endure to this day. The writing made him famous and he eventually
traveled around Europe speaking about his Essays and gathering even more input
about life as he traveled which resulted in a 2nd edition ten years
later.
During this time in France there was civil war between the
Catholics and the Protestants. It was
divisive and bloody and included the notorious St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre which
contained some of the most brutal tortures, rapes, and murders, all in the name
of religion (Google it). Montaigne became
a voice of moderation during this time and even though he was raised a Catholic,
he had many Protestant friends and colleagues.
His negotiating skill brought him to the King’s court to help with various
negotiations in order to bring peace to the country.
His “Essays” ended up on the Catholic list of banned books mainly
due to his lack of reliance on God to resolve human issues. This, of course made the book even more
famous, especially in Protestant England where one William Shakespeare obtained
a copy. There is strong evidence of Montaigne’s
influence in many of Shakespeare’s plays.
So, how to live? What
is the secret according to Montaigne? Bakewell included 20 chapters in her biography, each with one basic answer to that
question, based on Montaigne’s writing; and I have to say that I agree with
nearly everything he believes about how to live.
Here is a list of some those chapters:
Here is a list of some those chapters:
- Don’t worry about death
- Pay attention
- Read a lot, forget most of what you read
- Survive love and loss
- Question everything
- Keep a private room behind the shop (a place for only your thoughts)
- Wake from the sleep of habit
- Guard your humanity (tough in times of religious civil wars)
- See the world
- Reflect on everything; regret nothing
- Give up control
- Be ordinary and imperfect
- Let life be its own answer, not the end
As the author stated near the end of the book: “The 21st
century could use a Montaignean sense of life and politics – It could use his
sense of moderation, his love of sociability and courtesy, his suspension of
judgement, and his subtle understanding of the psychological mechanisms
involved in confrontation and conflict.”

Boy what a day I
had! The highlight was seeing my first
ever Gila monster in the wild. These
prehistoric looking reptiles are rare to see, so when I first saw it, I
thought snake, no chuckwalla, no what the heck is that! It was lumbering up the trail right at me,
then it saw me, stopped and took a right turn up into the brush. But not before I got some nice video. Well I had a smile on my face the rest of the
way home. What a treat. Even without this encounter it would have a
been a great hike! The wildflowers were
in bloom, I explored an ancient ruin, and I saw very fresh mountain lion scat,
complete with hair and bones embedded. I
was all alone on this trail, so that got the heart pumping a bit. Oh, and Cave Creek was flowing with water at
the start of the hike. The rangers had
placed a mini walking bridge to help hikers avoid getting our feet wet. The ranger who collected my $3 fee said that
the place was crazy busy the previous Saturday.
There’s very little for folks to do in these times and, so far, hiking
is still an option and people are taking advantage. I know that, for me, the sun and the outdoors
help to feed the body and soul in a time when that is most needed.
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Elephant Mountain with brittlebush flowers blooming |
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Untroubled Bridge over Cave Creek |
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Desert wildflowers! |
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Saguaro, sky, flowers, grass with Black Mountain background |
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Believe it or not, we're not in Kansas |
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Healthy desert |
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Mexican gold poppies |
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Purple lupine |
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Old fashioned trail marker |
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Walled ancient ruin with town of Cave Creek below |
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View west from the walled ruin |
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I have no idea what these are, but they are cool looking |
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Lush desert, oxymoron |
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Globemallow and dead cactus |
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Close quarters for these two |
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Beautiful walk |
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Elephant Mountain from the Kansas wheat fields? |
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Gila monster!!!! |
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Heading into the brush away from me |
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Not sure what flower this is, but it was purty |
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver: Barbara Kingsolver has written 8 novels in her 30-year writing career thus far. This is her best-known novel. It was a finalist in 1999 for the Pulitzer and PEN/Faulkner awards. On a local note, she went to graduate school at the University of Arizona in Tucson where she received master’s degrees in Ecology and Evolutionary Biology. She lived in Tucson for 20 years and began her writing career as a science writer for the university. It’s been a great month of reading for me, ending with this incredible novel about a missionary family in the Belgian Congo starting in 1959. The novel is narrated by the mother, Orleanna, and her 4 daughters (Rachel, Leah, Adah, and Ruth May). Orleanna’s narrative is written as a memoir, looking back on her life from her retiring days on Sanderling Island, Georgia. The daughters’ narratives tell the harrowing family story from 1959 through the 1990s. It’s a fascinating way to write (and read) a novel because you have 5 different voices and perspectives on their very interesting lives. Kingsolver was somehow able to write a great novel as though it was written by 5 different authors and you come to know each character by their distinctive writing. The bulk of the book describes their “fish out of water” lives in the small village of Kilanga in 1959 through 1961 as their preacher father tried in vain to convert the people to Christianity. And the last few sections tell the story of how the mother and daughters each went on to very different and separate lives based on their own experiences during those 2 missionary years. Kingsolver mixed actual Congolese history with the fictional account of this missionary family. So, I learned a lot about the Belgian and American exploitation of this country and its people for their natural resources. It’s not a good story for America and an even worse story for Belgium (they offered their first apology in the Spring of 2019 for their role in several atrocities that took place as the country sought independence from Belgium).
The story is epic and adventurous and tragic and funny, and you
will have a hard time putting it down.
Here are some of the voices of the narrators (I wrote 5 pages of notes,
there are so many great lines):
Rachel:
“Here comes Moses down Mount Syanide (sic) with ten fresh ways to wreck your life”
“Here comes Moses down Mount Syanide (sic) with ten fresh ways to wreck your life”
“I thought I had died and gone to hell, but it’s worse, I’m
alive in hell.”
“In Congo there’s only two ages of people: babies that have to be carried and people that
stand up and fend for themselves.”
Adah:
“Miss Betty sent me to the corner for the rest of the hour to pray for my own soul while kneeling on uncooked grains of rice. When I finally got up with sharp grains embedded in my knees, I found, to my surprise, that I no longer believed in God.”
“What I carried out of the Congo on my crooked little back
is a ferocious uncertainty about the worth of a life. And now I am becoming a doctor. How sensible of me.”
Leah:
“You know things are bad when a woman without any legs and who recently lost two of her own kids feels sorry for you.”
“You know things are bad when a woman without any legs and who recently lost two of her own kids feels sorry for you.”
“To the Congolese it
seemed odd that if one man gets 50 votes and the other gets 49, the first one
wins altogether, and the second one plumb loses. That means almost half the people will be
unhappy and in a village that’s left unhappy you haven’t heard the end of
it. There is sure to be trouble
somewhere down the line.”
“Preventatives for old age are rampant here.”
“Kinshasa: a vast congregation of hunger, infectious
disease, and desperation, masquerading as opportunity.”
Orleanna:
“The substance of grief is not imaginary. It’s as real as rope or the absence of air, and like both of those things it can kill.”
“The substance of grief is not imaginary. It’s as real as rope or the absence of air, and like both of those things it can kill.”
“Conquest and liberation and democracy and divorce are words
that mean squat, basically, when you have hungry children and clothes to get
out on the line and it looks like rain.”
“I knew that Rome was burning, but I had just enough water
to scrub the floor, so I did what I could.”
Wow!
Until next month, happy reading and rambling! And for those who've read till the end, here's your reward; a poem I find truer each day that I live:
Until next month, happy reading and rambling! And for those who've read till the end, here's your reward; a poem I find truer each day that I live:
When I can look Life in the eyes
Grown calm and very
coldly wise
Life will have given me the Truth
And taken in exchange -- my
youth.
- -Sara Teasdale, poet (8 Aug 1884-1933)