Davidson Woods

April 19, 2015 - Brooklyn NY
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 17, 1970
Our roles in life change continuously. Sometimes it seems we engage in various lives during our reign of mortality. Anne and I became grandparents on April 9 with the arrival of Roman in this town late that evening. I neglected to post anything here during our long wait on the mountain for news (Roman arrived almost two weeks late) in part because all seemed so pre-climactic.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTOur roles in life change continuously.  Sometimes it seems we engage in various lives during our reign of mortality.  Anne and I became grandparents on April 9 with the arrival of Roman in this town late that evening.  I neglected to post anything here during our long wait on the mountain for news (Roman arrived almost two weeks late) in part because all seemed so pre-climactic.  Our winter was splintered.  It was good, but we were forever moving and becoming resettled.  Various times I woke and had to think where I was.  We opened the year on the mountain and waited word on plans for Mom and Dad Woods.  They went to Florida and so did we.  Their stay and ours was to be relatively short.  Gladly they stayed longer than expected and enjoyed a good time there.  No major health crises occurred.  Cool weather lessened time at the pool, at least while we were there, but they enjoyed the scene with family members and friends.  They stayed much longer than planned.  We had made a commitment to visit Alex in February and bought our tickets, so we could not stay.  Other of Anne’s siblings replaced us and enjoyed time with Mom and Dad and south Florida in the winter.  We enjoyed a week and a half in the again golden city of San Francisco.  This city of the rich is much like a museum at this time.  The rows of town houses and gardens are gloriously maintained.  Alex was doing well and joined us in our explorations.  Anne and I birded the desert and coast for a week finding oil fields, deserts, almond groves, and fabulous sea coasts in our travels.  We returned to San Francisco for a couple of more days before flying home a week before Elley’s due date.  We had much to get ready. At home we rushed at first to take care of critical items and pack for New York.  Then the due date came and went.  Elley moaned at the discomfort and the delay.  Of course the baby was supposed to arrive before here “spring break.”  It didn’t.  Motherhood is full of such disappointments.  We found time during our wait to finish some home improvements and make diapers. Finally the news suggested an imminent end of the pregnancy.  It did not seem so to Elley who was delivering it, but she had never had a baby.  We arrived in Brooklyn about an hour before Roman.  In this 21st Century his photo appeared in our communicator as we rode to the hospital.  We met him an hour later and were charmed.  Mother and child were worn, tired, and lovely.  They would be much brighter the next morning. We had the Brooklyn apartment to ourselves the next two days as Dad stayed with his little family in the hospital room.  That was not an option when our children were delivered.  Saturday night, we drove to the hospital to bring them home.  They were glad of the return.  Now we are a crowded expanded  family enjoying the spring emerge in the Big Apple.  I started vegetables in the back yard garden and installed a bit of shrubbery in the front.    We have become experienced walkers of pup, Marcy.  Anne does most of the cooking.  Elley does lots of feeding.  Many 21st Century babies are breast-fed.  Adam resumed work.  Baby provides challenges, of course.  It is an awful and wonderful time.  A new life can be a blessing or a curse.  Roman wails often.  He has no clue how lucky he is to have so much love and support.  We toasted his presence the night of his arrival.  Life goes on.
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Medicare - The Outcome
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 17, 1970
Now at age 65 I am enrolled in the government’s difficult and socialized health care system, Medicare. In a previous report I wrote of the difficulties in making decisions about the various choices available and the limited time period in which one must make the decisions or be subject to various and somewhat severe penalties for failure to do so.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTNow at age 65 I am enrolled in the government’s difficult and socialized health care system, Medicare.  In a previous report I wrote of the difficulties in making decisions about the various choices available and the limited time period in which one must make the decisions or be subject to various and somewhat severe penalties for failure to do so. I first enrolled in Medicare Parts A and B.  Part A is “hospitalization” and is paid for at least in part by my past Medicare taxes.  Part B is “medical” and has an annual premium of $1,260.  I received a plain paper insurance card indicating these coverages. I also bought a Medicare “supplemental” or “Medigap” hight deductible F Plan at $340 a year after much consideration of this Plan versus the more popular N Plans.  The N Plan would have cost $1,090 a year but would have eliminated up to an about $1,600 deductible (after the $140 Medicare deductible) each year.  I concluded that my average deductible amount each year would have to be about $1,200 for the N Plan coverage to break even in cost.   I doubt coming close to that over the next 25 years.  I also have enough in savings to cover such deductibles if they come about.  So, I bought the high deductible policy.  Anne stayed with her N Plan.  We can view that as some kind of experiment.  Last year, with her shoulder surgery, she just barely went over the $140 deductible and her supplemental policy paid, as far as I can tell, nothing.  So, she paid an extra $750 in premiums for no benefits in Year 2014.  I received a fancy plastic insurance card from the Standard Insurance Company for this coverage. More, I bought a Silverscript Part D drug benefits plan at $264.  Until I need any prescription drugs, this plan will be a loosing proposition, but if I didn’t buy the policy and elected to purchase it in future years, my cost for this coverage would be much higher because of the federally mandated penalty.  So, I pay the fee.  I received another lovely card from this company.  All my cards are in the desk drawer. My total premiums for this year will be $1,860 vs. last year’s cost for private high deductible insurance at $4,990.  A savings, I suppose, but much more complicated.  I pay three bills a month and have three insurance companies to wrestle with.  It would have been much simpler if the government said that as a result of the Medicare taxes I paid when working that I was entitled to an annual check of perhaps $3,000 which I could use for health insurance.  Then I could have continued with what I had, probably saving both the government and me time and money.  It was not too many years ago that I bought a family policy for the two of us for about $6,700.  Now our combined cost is $3,200 with the Medicare “benefit.”  The cost of health care has ceased to be affordable.  After paying their insurance premiums who has enough money to go to a doctor?
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Birding California in Late Winter 2015
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 17, 1970
Birding is an odd sort of a sport or hobby, involving adventures of various sorts across the land and sea in search of winged creatures. We planned a visit to our son in San Francisco in February and decided to take time during our stay in the Golden State to seek out birds that we had never before seen.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTBirding is an odd sort of a sport or hobby, involving adventures of various sorts across the land and sea in search of winged creatures.  We planned a visit to our son in San Francisco in February and decided to take time during our stay in the Golden State to seek out birds that we had never before seen.  Originally I made plans to find two resident species.  The first and most important of these was LeConte’s Thrasher.  This pale gray, secretive, rare, and spottily distributed desert bird had eluded us on two occasions previously.  To avoid that I arranged for a local guide.  I did not want to plan and execute a seven day and $1,300 trip without getting the bird.  Then, at the last minute, the guide called to say that he had a family crisis and could not join us.  That was not good news even though he assured me we would find the bird. The second bird was Bell’s Sparrow.  I suspected this bird would be much easier to find than the thrasher.  In fact, I was sure we had seen this bird previously near Las Vegas, Nevada.  But that was in the days before Bell’s Sparrow existed.  I must explain.  Before 2013 there was a species called Sage Sparrow that ranged from coastal California to the Rocky Mountains.  We first saw this bird in Las Vegas.  I remember looking at the field guide which showed “Pacific” and “Interior” “types” and I tried to identify the bird to “type”  but found it very difficult.  The bird was distant and retreated into the bush whenever we came close.  From a distance it looked very much intermediate to the two pictures.  I said, “this could be tough” and the noticed the names.  Realizing that Las Vegas is nowhere near the Pacific, I decided that the bird(s) must be of the interior type and left it at that.  Since then, some ornithologist (and an ornithologists’ club) decided that the “interior” type is a different species than the “Pacific” type.  Now the former is called the Sagebrush Sparrow and the later the Bell’s Sparrow.  Fine, but which did I see in Las Vegas?  It turns out that both species are found there in the winter, but only Bell’s breeds there in the spring.  It took substantial research to discover this.  I had found the birds singing on territory there in the spring, so they were almost certainly Bell’s Sparrows of the interior “subspecies” which are indeed intermediate in appearance to the coastal Bell’s Sparrows and the Sagebrush Sparrows. ergo my initial confusion.  So, I could say that I first saw Bell’s Sparrow in Las Vegas, but I did not identify it well enough to absolutely rule out Sagebrush Sparrow.  Best to see it again and definitely identify it.  So, it was on our “target bird” list. We have, incidentally, seen the Sagebrush Sparrow in the Idaho desert where Bell’s Sparrow never goes, even though we identified it as Sage Sparrow,.  This species became part of our “life list” through mere notation as soon as I found the record of the sighting in my field notes.  That took a while actually. Two additions to the life-bird list in a year is actually rather satisfactory, and I would have been pleased to achieve that on our California expedition.  I prepared an itinerary and made reservations for a rental car and motels before arriving in California. California postings raised my interest in January when a Rustic Bunting, a rare Asian vagrant, appeared in of all places, Golden-gate Park in San Francisco about two miles from our son’s apartment.  I told Anne that it would be wonderful and very unlikely that the bird would be there at the end of February when we were scheduled to arrive. Remarkably, it did.  I checked every week or so and then daily in the week before our departure.  I told our son that we would be off to find the bird at dawn on the morning after our arrival.  He could join us or sleep in.  The bird was last reported two days before our plane landed.  We crossed our fingers and went to bed.  Waking was easy.  We were still on Eastern Time.  Not being sure of the distance we walked.  Turned out to be 2.1 miles.  I was not sure of the exact location, but a park employee knew about this bird and sent us to a playing field.  There we spotted “the brush pile” that had been reported as the feeding location of this bird and the resident sparrows.  Alex wisely slept in. The morning was cool and clear.  We found several “year-birds” on our hike including many Varied Thrush which is a rare treat for Eastern birders.  Arriving at the brush pile we chose a position and watched the birds.  We saw White-crowned and Golden-crowned Sparrows and many Dark-eyed Juncos.  Very nice, but no bunting! After a time another birder approached.  He was from Maryland, I believe.  He had been standing on the other side of the row of trees behind the brush pile and witnessed our arrival.  He said he had not seen the bird.  We chatted for about an hour and he decided to wander off to check out the park ponds and return later for the bunting.  We remained to study each finch emerging from the brush to feed on the lawn under the trees around the brush pile.   We saw our first Fox Sparrows of the year.  Then Anne called out the arrival of a short-tailed bird smaller than the sparrows.  We focused on it as it hopped into the open.  It was a Rustic Bunting, not a blazing male in breeding plumage, but clearly of this species with a small crest and russet streaks along the flanks.  Alleluia!  We studied it for a long time and then moved closer for better views.  After a time it hopped back into the bush and we began our march home taking more time to enjoy the many Varied Thrushes in the shrubbery.  We had our first life bird in 2015. While in San Francisco we enjoyed seeing many “Western specialties” and adding them to our year list.  The Allen’s Hummingbirds were arriving and setting up territories.  We enjoyed our best views ever of this species.  The common Bushtits, Chestnut-backed Chickadees, and Black Phoebes remain a treat for us and we saw many of them.  Pacific Wrens singing up a storm also entertained us. The birding in San Francisco was fun, and we looked forward to our journey south to the Bakersfield area.  My sister said that very few people vacationed at Bakersfield.  Birders are among the very few. On the morning of our departure I took the bus and walked to pick up the rental car at 8 o’clock.  I haggled over an upgrade to a small SUV, taking the daily price addition down from $40 to $15.  I picked up Anne who had brought our luggage and gear to the curb and we hit the road crossing the bay bridge to I-5.  We lunched at a rest area overlooking a river and watched freshly arrived Cliff Swallows swarming around a bridge. We next stopped at the San Luis National Wildlife Refuge to enjoy the many waterfowl there including White-fronted Geese and Ross’s Geese which are also tough birds to see in the East.  Day turned into evening.  We dined at a Denny’s and found our way across the desert in the dark to Maricopa.  I had made reservations at the only motel there, I thought on the recommendation of our guide who suggested we stay at Maricopa.  But during the call when he cancelled on us, he suggested we would find the accommodations there rough and that we would be better off up the highway at Taft.  Too much trouble to change I thought.  Now I worried.  Pulling into the parking lot I saw it filled with heavy pickups of oil workers.  Perhaps this is not a tourist motel, I thought, but the host was welcoming and the lobby and the room were in good condition and clean.  Delightful.  We went to bed dreaming of thrashers and sparrows. We had packed our own breakfasts and lunches.  Before dawn we ate cereal and made sandwiches.  The various literature (Southern California bird-finding guide and Internet reports) suggested finding LeConte’s Thrasher along Petroleum Club Road.  That seemed a strange name until we looked out  the window.  There were oil wells everywhere.  Turns out the Midway-Sunset oil field is at the edge of Maricopa.  This is the third larges oil field in the United States.  Nodding pumps fill an area about a mile wide by ten miles long.  A surveyor found oil seeping out of the ground here about 1905 and returned after setting up his own oil company.  The oil was expected to be pumped dry by 1970, but with newer technologies nobody knows anymore how long it will last.  The estimated yield just keeps going up. Birding among the oil wells is perhaps a bit unusual.  We parked the car next to a monument to the Lakeview #1 Gusher.  Remnants of the huge uncontrolled blowout are still in evidence there.  The birds seem not to mind.  We walked along a gravel road following an oil pipe.  Before long we heard a Bell’s Sparrow singing and turned our attention to him.  We would see many of this species over the next few days.  We observed the dark head, paler unstreaked back, and the strong black throat stripe field marks that distinguish this species from the Sagebrush Sparrow.  The song was intermediate as this was the old intermediate subspecies now placed within the Bell’s Sparrow.  Another life bird and another kiss. Then we heard the song of a mimid.  We stopped quickly to see a Northern Mockingbird in a bush.  We didn’t need that!  We continued walking for another two hours and found no LeConte’s Thrasher.  We thought we had heard its smoother and more ethereal song, but saw nothing.  The book said we could play a recording and they would pop out.   We played a recording and received no response.  That was frustrating, but it was only the first morning.  Still, the failure was interfering with our plans.  We would have to come back in the evening.  Now we would explore the Carrizo Plain National Monument.   There were places there too where we might find the thrasher.  We did not find it there but still had a lot of fun.  The scenery is stark but lovely.  To the east of the desert plain are the Tremblor Mountains which consist of rock pushed up by the near continuous motion of the San Andreas fault.  To the west is the higher and more stable and vegetated Caliente range.  We found various birds there including Lawrence’s Goldfinch which we had seen only twice before.  They turned out to be everywhere we went on this trip.  A treat.  We also encountered a migratory flock of male mountain bluebirds.  A couple of dozen fluttered about the desert around the car for a time.  They reminded me of the bluebirds in Walt Disney’s tales of briar rabbit. We arrived back at Maricopa late in the afternoon and parked again along Petroleum Club Road.  We stood on a ridge and could hear what we were certain was the song of the LeConte’s Thrasher but could not find it.  We realized later that their soft song does not travel far.  When we heard them we were close to them.  We were probably looking too far away.  We retreated to supper disappointed but optimistic we would find the bird the next morning. Supper was at Tina’s diner and was cooked and served by Tina.  We couldn’t go back again for fear of obesity.   We could barely walk out.  Besides the food she gave us the history of the town.  She suggested we might have to look farther out in the desert for our bird.  Everyone in Maricopa has heard of the bird.  Many have seen it. So, at dawn we drove east of Petroleum Club Road and down dirt roads among the oil wells.  We found more Bell’s Sparrows and our first Bewick’s Wren of the year.  We walked across another square mile of salt bush desert.  No LeConte’s Thrasher.  We had become discouraged and frustrated.  Were we going to not find the bird on this trip? We retreated at 9 o’clock to drive up the ridge at the Bitter Creek National Wildlife Refuge.  This preserve was set up to protect roosting and feeding areas for the California Condor.  The birds supposedly leave the roost at mid-morning and often fly off the ridge and over the Carrizo Plain.  We parked and perched at a lookout to watch for them.  Two hours later we left.  We had enjoyed watching Northern Ravens and Red-tailed Hawks soaring in the bright blue sky, but no condors.  We have seen condor before in Utah, but until this year they were not considered “countable” by the American Birding Association.  So, a sighting would add it to our life list.  That will have to come at a future date. From the lookout we drove up into the pine forest where we parked at the Apache Pass Ranger Station and looked for upland birds among the snow.  We found Western Bluebirds among the pines. Eventually we returned to the valley and arrived again at Petroleum Club Road in late afternoon.  This time we parked farther north and made a long loop by foot through the salt bush.  Nothing.  We returned to the road just before sunset and began the trudge back to the car.  Scanning the sun-lit bushes I saw a pale bird in the distance.  It looked like just another White-crowned Sparrow, but I brought up the binoculars.  It was not a sparrow.  I studied the pale face and the dark tail and then the breast and flanks.  When I saw pink under the tail I called to Anne saying  “I think this is our bird.” A minute’s study confirmed it was the thrasher, but the tail looked almost black and that confused us at first.  One does not notice the dark tail in the field guides.  There the bird seems uniformly pale.  We held our position for a time so as not to spook it and continue our study and joy of observation.  Then we slowly moved toward it stopping for  better views.  The thin bill was scarcely visible from our original position.  Now it was clearly long and curved.  We moved in a bit closer and enjoyed even better views.  Then the bird retreated into the bush and reappeared on the ground.  We saw a second bird there and watched them for some time as they moved from bush to bush running like roadrunners across the sand in the now fading light.  Our faith in our skills and in the sport had been restored. We reached the car and drove to the next town up the road, Taft, to take a draft and to dine at the microbrew pub.  I told the waiter that his was the most advertised restaurant on the West Side.  He said that was because he also published the newspaper.  We toasted our no longer nemesis bird, the LeConte’s Thrasher. We could now relax during our last evening in Maricopa.  We had previously decided to move northeast the next morning and seek the thrasher at Jawbone Canyon and lodge for two nights at Lake Isabella.  We would make our move, but we would not have to keep searching for the thrasher.  There were other birds and places to see. So, instead of rushing to the canyon, we went instead to California City in the Mojave Desert.  Our reference suggested that the town park pond often yielded interesting birds.  We thought a city park would be a pleasant stop.  It was pretty but yielded few birds of interest.  We found Great-tailed Grackles and many coots.  Still winter.  No migrants. From there we went to Red Rock Canyon State Park where we walked up a canyon and picnicked at the campground.  A Great-horned Owl hooted from the wall of the canyon above the campground.  We could never see it.  We did hear and then saw a Cactus Wren, one of Anne’s favorites. Our last in-transit stop was at the Audubon Kern River Preserve near Weldon.  It was quiet in late afternoon.  One other couple arrived ahead of us and made a short walk.  We made the long loop and found a decent assortment of birds including a fabulous male Costa’s Hummingbird.   A Red-shouldered Hawk was circling and calling to announce the coming spring.  We enjoyed a wonderful day of stress-free birding. We arrived at the Lake View Motel in Mountain Mesa at dusk and found it to be old but very well maintained.  The host gave us a birders’ discount.  His wife had worked for the forest service and “knew a few birds.”  We enjoyed their hospitality.  The lake, shrunk to near nothing by the long drought was scarcely in view. Having only one day there we debated making a drive around the lake and up into the mountains or going down to the desert and Butterbredt Springs.  I had hoped we could reach the nearest Giant Sequoia grove, but word had it that the road was still closed with snow.  So, we decided to take our SUV down the Kelso Valley Road and over the sand Butterbredt Canyon road to the spring instead of going around on the highway.  That was our best decision of the trip.  Shortly after we turned off the highway we saw two large birds flying.  The little one was a Red-tailed Hawk.  The other was a Golden Eagle.  I pulled the car over and the bird flew to the road and perched on a pole about fifty meters out.  Incredible.  It seemed too large and I worried it might be electrocuted when it took off among the wires.   As it pulled away I thought it an anachronism, a dinosaur in modern time.  May these great birds continue to inhabit the earth and avoid the eagle chopping windmills! The drive and its many stops yielded California Quail, California Thrasher, California Towhee, and Spotted Towhee.  I guess we were in California.  More good western species for us Easterners.  The sandy Butterbredt Canyon Road would have been very scary in our car.  With the SUV there was no problem.  The reportedly birdy spring yielded more Lawrence’s Goldfinch but not much else new.  We chose to make this trip in winter for the thrasher and knew we would be too early for the spring migration.  No problem.  A small heard of cattle joined us at the spring.  The next day we drove from the desert to Moro Bay, one of our favorite places.  Our seashore motel was fine and the room had a view of the famous Moro Rock.  We dined on seafood.  The next morning started out foggy.  We drove along the bay to the Rock checking out the loons to find a Pacific Loon.  We found only Common Loon there but found the Pacific in the afternoon at Montanas de Oro State Park.  At the beach we found surfers and hundreds of Long-billed Curlew, Marbled Godwit, and Willet.  We also spotted a Peregrine Falcon high on the rock among nesting Pelagic and Brandt’s Cormorants.  Many Surf Scoters floated on the ocean just beyond the breakers.  As we drove to the state park we made various stops to see the local bird life and the wonderful coastal cypress trees.  At the park we first walked down to the sea again.  As Anne used the facilities at the parking lot a flock of Band-tailed Pigeons flew out of the trees and seemed about to land on the chaparral when something spooked them.  By the time Anne emerged they had disappeared.  She missed a fine view of this lovely species.  We saw no more on the trip.  An Orange-crowned Warbler was singing in the willows and an Anna’s Hummingbird was on post on a snag. At the beach we looked for “rock birds” but found only Black Turnstone.  Many sandpipers were on the beach.  Scanning the rocks I found several Whimbrel.  I almost overlooked them thinking they were curlews.  After lunch we walked around the campground where we heard an accelerating “ping pong ball like” trill coming from the chaparral.  I knew it was early in the season, but the song sounded like that of the Black-chinned Sparrow.  We made a hike into the desert to find the bird but failed.  Then I asked Anne to play a recording of the California Towhee.  On hearing it we realized that this was the song we were hearing.  Now I know that the towhee and sparrow have similar songs.  Fish and Chips for supper that night.  The next day we had to drive to San Francisco.  I decided we should stop at the Cerro Alto Park.  This could yield a few new birds and the Pacific race of Bell’s Sparrow.  Unlike the interior race which nest in salt bush on flat desert, the Pacific race finds a home on chaparral covered hillsides.  There were a couple of problems with this plan.  First, the birds are known not to begin singing until April.  Second, the location of the local population was about three miles up the mountain.  Still, it was a plan.  We arrived at the park and first birded along the road.  We found bird activity there, but nothing new.  Then we drove to the campground and started up the trail.  I told Anne we would go as far as she wished.  The scenery was pleasant and there were many blooms including  clematis and  ceonothus.  The live oaks provided occasional shade as the day became warm.  We finally decided to continue to the Bell’s Sparrow habitat.  We reached it late in the morning but crossed about a quarter mile of the habitat and heard and saw no birds. At that point I suggested we make the song.  We pulled out the recorder and played several rounds of the Bell’s Sparrow serenade.  A bird appeared on a nearby snag.  It was a Bell’s Sparrow.  It made several “whisper songs” and dropped back into the brush.  We had now seen both subspecies of Bell’s Sparrow on the expedition.  Sweet.  We hiked back to the car and found our way to U.S. 101 and high tailed it to the city.  Passing a rest area Anne spotted a Yellow-billed Magpie.  What a fine last bird of the expedition.
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February 8, 2015 - Lee County
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 17, 1970
Sunday afternoon and I write from the condominium. I have been enjoying a Spanish language reader. Anne a popular novel. We encouraged Mom and Dad to go to the pool, but though Mom wanted to go, Dad did not. They went to church this morning with Rose. Seems one outing a day is more than enough for them now. Anne and I went separately to the Unitarian church after I made a fine Sunday breakfast for everybody this morning.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTSunday afternoon and I write from the condominium.  I have been enjoying a Spanish language reader.  Anne a popular novel.  We encouraged Mom and Dad to go to the pool, but though Mom wanted to go, Dad did not.  They went to church this morning with Rose.  Seems one outing a day is more than enough for them now.  Anne and I went separately to the Unitarian church after I made a fine Sunday breakfast for everybody this morning. So go days here.  Yesterday started off slowly, but we took Mom and Dad to one of the beaches along the Sanibel Island causeway where they sat for about an hour before Dad decided he was cold.  Returning we first stopped at the new restaurant, S.S. Hooker, just before the toll booth.  We ordered three soups and a BLT sandwich for Dad.  He shared the fries provided with the sandwich that made the lunch more than large enough for all of us.  Then we stopped at the home of friends, Joe and Liz.  Anne called them on the cell phone and they came out and chatted through the car windows.  With the cool weather they have seldom been to the pool, and we less often.  We enjoyed the chat and returned to our condo.  Last week was a hard one for us.  We lost Anne's best friend, Jane, and joined the memorial service on Thursday before taking Mom and Dad out for their 71st wedding anniversary dinner.  What a bittersweet day of celebration.  Mom and Dad did not do well at the dinner.  Both were suffering minor ailments.  Less and less of recent events is becoming engraved in their memories as their short-term memory fades. Still, they enjoy the little joys and we endeavor to provide them.  Last evening we watched The Philadelphia Story with them.  Even that was a bit too complicated.  I'm sure they have seen it before, but they could not keep straight who was whom.  We at least appreciated this old film with so many words, unlike modern grunt movies. The Florida weather has been grand as always.  Yes there are some cool and breezy days, but compared to Yankee-land, it is great.  I don't look forward to return to Pennsylvania next week, but do look forward to going to San Francisco the week after that.  Find out how son, Alex, is doing.  Hope there is not another "pineapple express" during our stay. We look forward to Rob's arrival next weekend.  We'll stay a day or two after that to share his company and let him settle into care for Mom and Dad.  Then we will end our stay and start north, probably stopping to bird here and there.  In no hurry, we may enjoy our journey back into winter.
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January 31, 2015 - Lee County FL
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 17, 1970
Sorry for no recent blogs. Anne and I have been busy of late. I write now to provide an update. We are currently at the condominium near Fort Myers with Mom and Dad Woods. Their ability to travel here in early January was uncertain, but in the end the mission became a go. As in the past, their time here has been somewhat restorative. Yesterday both swam in the pool. They enjoy the sunshine each day. Usually that is outside, but if not, then on the back porch in the afternoon.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTSorry for no recent blogs.  Anne and I have been busy of late.  I write now to provide an update.  We are currently at the condominium near Fort Myers with Mom and Dad Woods.  Their ability to travel here in early January was uncertain, but in the end the mission became a go.  As in the past, their time here has been somewhat restorative.  Yesterday both swam in the pool.  They enjoy the sunshine each day.  Usually that is outside, but if not, then on the back porch in the afternoon.  They enjoy what they can.  This morning we took them out for breakfast with their friends, Jim and Honey, at the Bagel Bagel cafe.  Tomorrow the senior Davidsons will join us for a “superbowl party.”  Time passes.  Dad’s respiration is still hard.  May not be any worse, but not better.  He sits quietly at times with his eyes closed, wants snacks when he can get them, and demands music playing throughout the night.  Mom is sharp as ever in conversation but her short-term memory is going kaput.  That frustrates her, but we can joke about it.  She insists on walking which is hazardous.  We try to stay close when she does, but sometimes it is unannounced.  We could, I suppose, restrict her to chairs, but are we to pretend we can extend life forever or let her live for the joy of it knowing we are mortal and not long for this world? Anne and I can only watch and appreciate what a rich life they have had and be honored to provide necessary care as they reach this difficult stage of their lives. The winter season here has been warm and wet.  That is good for the mosquitoes and the tourists.  Anne I made a four-day tour of the Everglades and the Florida Keys upon our arrival before we settled into serious elder care.  Now we get out together as we can for brief periods.  Aide, Rose, makes this possible on week days.  Our arrival coincided with the sudden illness and loss today of a close friend in Naples.  Our being here was perhaps good.  We could provide support to her and to her spouse and family.  Now we quietly mourn the loss on this spectacularly beautiful Florida morning as the world continues without attention to our private sadness.  We will remain here only a few more weeks.  This year’s Florida retreat was supposed to be short for Mom and Dad.  Now they may stay a bit longer than originally thought, but others of their children will arrive to replace us at the end of February.  We promised son, Alex, a visit in winter and will fly to San Francisco shortly after returning home.  We’ll enjoy a week in the Golden City and then chase birds in the central Valley before again returning home in March.  Daughter Elley’s due date is March 28, so we must be in place in the Northeast for that great event.  We will probably spend much of April in or near the Big Apple.  Those in that region may look for our possible visits in that month.  Then again we may to busy helping. So go the twists and turns of our lives.  We take the bad news with the good and look forward to tomorrow.
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Tales of Gettysburg - November 2014
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 17, 1970
November 11, 2014

Today is Veteran's Day, one of those days when Adams County residents may gain free admission to the Gettysburg National Military Park museum and the fabulous Cyclorama painting. We took advantage of this opportunity to visit for the second time. We skipped our jog, arrived early, enjoyed the show, and drove on to the East Cavalry Fields, a section of the park that is lightly visited.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTNovember 11, 2014 Today is Veteran's Day, one of those days when Adams County residents may gain free admission to the Gettysburg National Military Park museum and the fabulous Cyclorama painting.  We took advantage of this opportunity to visit for the second time.  We skipped our jog, arrived early, enjoyed the show, and drove on to the East Cavalry Fields, a section of the park that is lightly visited.  There on July 3, 1863 a large element of cavalry commanded by one J.E.B. Stuart hid along a forested ridge and at the Rummel farm east of Gettysburg.  Their intention was to wait for Mr. Lee's infantry to push the Union army off of Cemetery Ridge and then rake the retreating troops and complete their destruction.  Things did not go entirely as planned. Instead of a retreating infantry, a unit of Daniel Gregg's cavalry wandered in front of the Confederates and a battle separate from the main action ensued involving some six thousand Confederate and five thousand Union cavalrymen.  The somewhat superior attacking Confederate force brought forth a tough fight decided in part by their limited ammunition and a determined counterattack led by one, George A. Custer.  A stalemate ensued and both forces fell back.  Stuart's Cavalry slipped away on the Forth of July with the rest of the Army of Northern Virginia, returning to Virginia. Today the wooded ridge and the Rummel farm remain.  One field is high with parsnips and barley, another green with young wheat, and another  yellow with ripe soybeans.  Rich earth well used.  Various signs and memorials and a few cannon along the lane note the event.  A statue of Mr. Custer stands atop a monument raised for the Michigan Brigade of Cavalry.  On this lovely fall morning we birded along the lane and across the quiet fields.  We found no special birds but enjoyed a fine walk at a memorable place on Veterans' Day. November 15, 2014 Having explored the “East Cavalry Fields” last week, we decided to inspect the location of the second cavalry engagement of the Battle of Gettysburg after church on this lovely clear and freezing day.  We parked along South Confederate Avenue near where the end of the right flank of the Army of Northern Virginia was positioned on July 3, 1863.  The soldiers positioned there stayed put, as ordered, all day even as farther north General Pickett led the famous and futile charge against Cemetery Ridge. The Confederates flank held a strong position on top of an embankment above a poor farm on low ground with scattered fences, walls, trees, and small marshes.  It was and is not easy ground to walk across nor practical to ride across, so they probably expected no attack.  But at about five o’clock in the afternoon, a small force of Union cavalry charged across that farm at them.  A Confederate lieutenant is said to have exclaimed, “Cavalry, boys, cavalry! This is no fight, only a frolic, give it to them!"   The silly engagement between a small force of cavalry attacking across broken ground a large and partly entrenched infantry was at the order of Brigadier General Judson Kilpatrick who was then an inexperienced but probably always a foolish commander, sometimes called Kill-cavalry.  His most infamous defeat in the Battle of Monroe’s Crossroads or Kilpatrick’s Shirttail Skedaddle was punctuated by his near capture and escape from a log cabin he was sharing that night with a Carolina woman he had only recently met. At Gettysburg Elon Farnsworth, commander of one of the brigades under Kilpatrick’s direction stated, “General, if you order the charge I will lead it, but you must take the awful responsibility."  Farnsworth died some minutes later.  A stone marks the spot in the field where he fell.  It is hard to find much reference to Kilpatrick on this field.  Major William Wells, commander of one of the battalions sent across it, earned a Congressional Medal of Honor for exposing himself to “withering enemy fire” and finding a route of retreat for what was left of his battalion that had become trapped between enemy lines.  It was a sad event in the history of the United States Cavalry and scarcely discussed among the grand stories of Gettysburg.  The action was especially tragic because it came at the close of the great fight at Gettysburg that was a Union victory. While walking in the footsteps of giants we found our first Winter Wren of the year near the monument to Major Wells and the 1st Vermont Cavalry.  November 19, 2014 We enjoyed this year’s Dedication Day ceremony very much.  The event was smaller and much more quiet than in the past few years, perhaps because it is a year after the 150th Anniversary and the temperature was in the teens.  We were invited to move into the half-empty reserved section just before the start of the ceremony.  There we joined some fifty sailers from the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln who came to Gettysburg from Norfolk today to participate in the ceremony and see a bit of Pennsylvania on this fine November day.  After the main event we followed their march to the memorial where wreaths are silently presented to those who rest in Soldiers’ Cemetery. The main speaker, author Kent Masterson Brown, briefed us on the subject of one of his books, Lieutenant Alonzo Cushing, who won the Congressional Medal of Honor this year.  Reports suggest he was a diligent and savvy artillery officer who was scarcely inclined to waste his unit or unnecessarily risk his own life.  But on July 3, 1863, some eleven thousand Confederate soldiers from various points began a march with the intention of crushing through the Union line at the place where Cushing’s battery was positioned.  He could have retreated as his guns, horses, and men were destroyed, or when he was wounded once slightly and again seriously.  He saw no opportunity for that when his remaining cannon were all that stood in front of the advance.  He was literally held aloft by his sergeant to give his final order to fire before he was shot in the head and died.  His position was breeched, but the tide had turned and the Confederate advance melted back across the field.  Cushing was twenty-two years of age.  A descendent of Mayflower pilgrims but poor, his father had died, he chose a military career and was admitted to West Point.  He graduated in 1861 and joined and experienced the horror of “the first modern war” and was one of those about whom Mr. Lincoln said The World . . . can never forget what they did here!  The ceremony ended as it has in the past few years with a citizenship ceremony.  Sixteen people were certified as having exhibited skills and knowledge of civics and the English language and stood to renounce their past loyalties and swear duty to this nation.  They received the largest applause of the event.  I have always been a hopeless conservative with regard to citizenship.  We have been blessed with an “underpopulated” land and I have enjoyed that.  I once hoped we would studiously limit inward migration.  That hope was dashed with the “amnesty” that was pushed through in the early 1980’s with the argument that it would put a stop to illegal immigration.  I thought strong employer sanctions and massive deportations would work much better.  Today, there are too many parties with much to gain from unconstrained immigration.  So, we have that now.  How unfair to people such as those sworn in this day who truly earned their citizenship.
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Christmas rsvp 2014
Patty submitted on January 17, 1970
Mom Dad 2 hosting about 30 people

~~Anne Chuck and family regrets~~

Norb Susan 2 wine ?

Frank, Beth, Tim, [Chris and Sarah, Brian and Emily?

~~Mary Helen, Mark, Kara regrets~~

Mike, Sam, Chloe, Paige, Vasey and Krish?

~~Jeff, Ann and Audrey regrets~~

~~Patty, Tom,~~ (roast beef but will be in Chicago missing you and thinking of you)

~~Matt, Jen Billie Charlie, Liam, Elijah~~
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENT Mom Dad 2 hosting about 30 people <strike>Anne Chuck  and family regrets</strike> Norb Susan 2 wine ? Frank, Beth, Tim, [Chris and Sarah, Brian and Emily? <strike>Mary Helen, Mark, Kara regrets</strike> Mike, Sam, Chloe, Paige,  Vasey and Krish? <strike>Jeff, Ann and Audrey regrets</strike> <strike>Patty, Tom,</strike> (roast beef  but will be in Chicago missing you  and thinking of you)  <strike>Matt, Jen Billie Charlie, Liam, Elijah </strike> <strike>Dan, Amanda and Milly </strike> Cathy Bob potatoes (9) Justin Amanda Olivia Natalie Gabriella, Greg and Kait, <strike>Doug, Raijah, Zara</strike> Mark Rob Joe 3 Rob set up, Joe cider and cranberry drinks, Mark vegetables--green beans and creamed spinach Therese , Craig, Tom, MM, James and Genna  6  4 pumpkin pies, 2 apple pies and an assortment of Christmas cookies (mostly spritz). John, David and Gaby will bring salad,  Karen and Ben will bring something southern  5 J<strike>ason and Sarah regrets,</strike>  Margaret, Tony, Emily, Anna and Evan 5 at least and cooking roast beef,  coffee tea and hosting  Jim Sheila  1 pasta dish, Pam and Sheila will be there for dessert  Melissa Mike Benjy  ?
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Thoughts on the Fall of the Wall - November 10, 2014
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 17, 1970
In my note to the kids this morning I made the comments that follow and thought they might be of interest to other readers of this blog. Here they are.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTIn my note to the kids this morning I made the comments that follow and thought they might be of interest to other readers of this blog.  Here they are. The news this week has reported on the anniversary of the assault on and collapse of the Berlin Wall 25 years ago.  This brought to mind our visit to Germany in July of 1990.  I remember well that our host, Hans, asked if I wanted to take family to Berlin.  I declined with some regret expressing concern at taking my young family across the terrible border.  Hans understood, but he told me that the guards had gone away.  I asked him if he had imagined that such a thing could happen.  He said that as a German he had hoped that some day it would, but he thought not in his lifetime.  How this world can surprise us! Growing up through the Cold War, I saw the division of Germany as marking a contrast between dictatorship and freedom.  In Florida schools provided a mandatory course on “Communism versus Americanism.”  Although it had some merit, it was stark and more than a bit silly.  The wall in Berlin was more stark and all too real.  I remember its erection and then the regular reports of those shot for attempting to cross it.  In college a German reader gave a different much more German perspective.  The wall was erected it seemed to prevent incursions, disruptions, and corruption from the West.  The government of the German Democratic Republic made this very clear.  No rational person would want to leave the workers paradise.  West Germans jokingly referred to this government as “the so-called German Democratic Republic.  In East Germany the German love of regimen was used to maintain the illusion that communism created an ideal and prosperous existence.  One in five citizens was recruited to maintain control.  Still, it finally failed.  Some blame the triumvirate of Reagan, Thatcher, and John Paul.  Many internal voices, especially those of Polish unionists,  bravely shouted out that the emperor had no clothes and demanded change.  Perhaps more significantly, even the wives of the state police had to wait in line for such luxuries as bread.  A whirlwind grew. But hard structures can withstand a strong wind, and the dictatorship of the proletariat was a hard wall.  When the Berlin Wall fell, the impossible had happened.  Young men and women and others too went at that damned wall with small hammers.  When it “fell” the world saw that hope was not futile.  Twenty-five years later, we have a different world.  It is perhaps better, but certainly not all happy, safe, and secure.   Efficient communism continues threateningly in North Korea and Cuba.  An article this morning speaks of Cuba contracting out slave doctors to bring in cash.  The “Human Rights Commission” closes its eyes to such shenanigans.  The lure and fascination of socialism always threatens.  In Latin America people know that government jobs are better, so why not have twice as many government workers as are needed?  Or why not have everyone work for the government and everyone will be rich.  Brazil just re-elected a socialist.  Argentina too repeatedly reinstates “populists” who confiscate all savings about once a decade.  Evita is still celebrated in song! Even here there is a popular discussion of “a problem of inequality.”  Is it any surprise that the economy stagnates when society makes it harder and harder to make and keep money?  On top of putting up with economists who believe that “inflation is good” we face a new and potent fight on free speech.  A representative of that radical right wing organization, the American Civil Liberties Union, was recently called racist for “using the N word” and arguing that words should not be forbidden because “people may be sensitive to (them).”   Worse, we have government officials who endeavor to prohibit political blogs (by putting some dollar value on them and so calling them political contributions which “should” be limited).  I heard some politician say that he did not want to limit speech, only political speech.  He complained that political contributions give a small voice a megaphone.  How that would have warmed the heart of Joe Stalin!  We may allow someone to speak as long as no one can hear it! Freedom is precious.  Let us celebrate the fall of the Berlin Wall as a reminder that freedom can triumph in the face of evil.  Let us remember too that tanks roll across the Ukraine and dictatorships continue to flourish and enslave.  Sadly and hopefully, it may always be so.  Don't imagine that institutions protect people.  It takes common and extraordinary people to provide and protect useful institutions.  Let us remember and praise the people who made Mr. Gorbachev "tear down that wall!"
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The Medicare Adventure
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 17, 1970
My 65th birthday is coming up in February. That was once considered “the full retirement age” and although that changed, the federal elderly health insurance program called Medicare continues to begin at age 65.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTMy 65th birthday is coming up in February.  That was once considered “the full retirement age” and although that changed, the federal elderly health insurance program called Medicare continues to begin at age 65. I had once hoped that I could avoid the program watching the rapid increase in its cost while my own insurance premiums increased only modestly.  But, the AfCa Act blew up the insurance market and my costs have exploded, and worse my policy “expires” at the end of the year to be replaced by an even more expensive one.  Oh, well. Another problem is that the government makes Medicare, in the words of Don Corleone, “an offer he can’t refuse.”  If one does not enroll at age 65, the cost of coverage increases 10% each year after that.  So one should enroll at age 65 if he might ever enroll.  More, the government will not pay Social Security “benefits” to one who is not enrolled in Medicare.  So, not wanting to walk away from social security payments some time in the future, I registered for Medicare today (November 6, 2014) to become effective on my birthday next February. I will receive Part A (hospitalization) benefits without paying direct premiums.  That “free benefit” is provided by the “FICA” payments that come out of our paychecks.  I registered for Part B too and will pay some $1,040 in annual premiums for “medical” coverage.  Part A and B provide various “benefits” but they are lousy insurance.  They really provide partial coverage of medical services including even every-day medical services and “diagnostic tests.”  That is nice, of course,  but makes the cost of these services much more expensive.  The coverage provides no “caps” on uncovered costs and so does not provide insurance needed for serious unexpected illness or injury.  Medicare is more a pre-payment of medical costs than insurance, sort of a rent-to-buy plan.  We know what a bargain such plans are, but, hey, “I’m from the government and I’m here to help you.” Having saved, I need insurance.  This is sold by private companies, but the government prescribes what they can sell.  This makes it impossible to obtain a package that fits one’s personal needs.  Instead one must select among Plans A, B, C, D, F, Fhd, G, K, L, M, or N.  That may look easy, but Plan F is better than G is better than C is better than D is better than N is better than M is better than B is better than A is better than L is better than K.  Nothing in the federal guidance tells you this.  Prices are all over the place.  One can pay more for a Plan K than a Plan F! The most popular plan is Plan F with the most expensive premiums.  The best plan for some are those with the lowest premiums, but agents for the insurance companies don’t want to talk about these policies.  Did I mention that most of these policies are sold by agents or that most of the companies do not put the rates  on their web-sites?  I called Medicare and the State Insurance Commission to get a list of rates.  They cannot provide them.  They provide only a list of companies.  Most of the companies will provide only the name of their agents. Medicare and the state say to purchase based on price because the policies are all the same.  There is some truth in that, but quality of administration and resources made available to customers are also of value.  Also, if one selects a Medigap plan, he may best keep it forever, so one wants a company that won’t go out of business over the next twenty-five years.  So, how does one find the best plan for him and the lowest price  for that plan without talking to a few dozen insurance agents? The good news is that the local insurance counselor at my county Area Agency on Aging says she has a list of rates for companies providing coverage in my zip code.  I don’t know why that list is not made available to the public, but I am waiting for the list in the mail.  When I get the list I will pick a few companies with the lowest rates and check their ratings, reputations, and web-sites.  I will then call to confirm the rates and make a purchase. That seems simple, but determining the lowest rate is not as simple as reading the rate offered to you, a non-smoker, in the initial enrollment period.  This is because companies can set rates in one of three different ways.  Most set rates based on “attained age.”  That means that rates will about double by the time you reach 90.  Rates may not increase uniformly among companies, so the lowest rate when you start may not result in the lowest cost over the years.  A few companies base rates on “issue age” or the “community.”  It is very difficult to compare rates among companies that use different rate bases.  How do most people decide?  They take the advice of the agent who takes a commission from the company.  Does that seem a good way to get the best policy at the best price?  Hardly.  Is it any wonder most people sign up for the most expensive Plan F?  No.   Is it any wonder that most people buy Plans from companies that do not offer the best prices?  No.  Most people speak to one or a couple of agents, listen, and take a recommendation.  Most seniors have an idea that they can change plans every year.  In fact, after the initial enrollment period one may not be able to simply change Medigap plans.  Insurance companies do not have to offer coverage and may offer coverage only at higher rates once you pass out of the initial enrollment period.  One can change to an Advantage Plan, perhaps, but that might cost significantly more. When one signs up for Medicare, Medigap, and Prescription Drug coverages at age 65, he will buy these insurances for some twenty-five years at perhaps $1,000 to $2,000 per year.  He will also pay the deductibles, co-pays, and other uncovered costs for some twenty-five years.  The bill for all this could amount to more than $300,000.  One had better look far beyond the “monthly premium” or come to regret a big financial mistake. Most folks base their decision on the initial rate offered and the percent coverages provided by the Plan, but the total life time cost of premiums and out-of-pocket expenses is what is important.  So, one needs to estimate out-of-pocket costs to evaluate Plans and make a decision on premiums.  Where can you find estimates of out-of-pocket costs?  Nowhere.  I prepared my own based on experience with our parents.  One also should consider their own state of health.  The insurance companies are not allowed to evaluate your health when you enter Medicare for the first time, but you sure can.  If you are healthy and have no chronic diseases, perhaps a high-deductible plan is good for you.  If you smoke and have diabetes, better buy a Plan F and pay the higher premiums.  When I started looking I was steered to Plan N policies which offer many of the benefits of the Plan F but at significantly lower rates.  That seemed good, but the premium rates seemed high and there are some holes in Plan N coverage at the high end.  While obtaining prices I found the high deductible Plan (Fhd).  The premiums are very low.  Why?  There is a $2,100 deductible.  Ouch!  Agents point this out and folks go back to Plan F or Plan N.  What they forget is that the deductible is on costs not covered by the Medicare A or B policy.  In the case of doctor visits the Part B deductible is $147.  You pay that before Medicare or the Medigap policy pay anything under Plan N.  Above that Part B pays about 68%.  if you have a Plan N Medigap policy it pays most of the balance.  If you have a high deductible Plan F you pay.  So, with Fhd you take a low premium and a high deductible.  That is not necessarily bad, especially if the folks taking such a policy are a lower risk group. For me it looks I would have to pay some $800 in out-of-pocket costs to balance the savings in premiums on the high deductible plan.  I’m guessing I will save in most years.  At some point I may reach the deductible each year, then I’ll have full coverage after that.   I’ll make a decision when I obtain the quotes.  An important consideration is that one have enough money in the bank to pay additional out-of-pocket expenses.  If so the additional deductible is a small gamble.  Winning could save me tens of thousands of dollars.  Loosing might cost me as much, but as I mentioned I have insider information on my state of health.  Why not bet on that? I will buy a prescription drug plan based on price.  I currently do not use drugs but the costs for "Part D" Plans like Medigap plans goes up each year that you do not enroll and drug costs can be very significant.  One can, however, switch Plan D insurance without penalty once each year.  So, if and when I begin to take expensive drugs I will switch policies. I should close with mention of Medicare Advantage Plans.  There are good ones and the premiums are often low, sometimes zero.  Some Advantage Plans include prescription drug coverage too.  Most are PPO’s and so limit access to a certain set of medical providers.  We are away from home for more than half of each year and so cannot practically limit ourselves to a certain group of doctors and hospitals.  We also want the flexibility to change providers and are willing to pay a bit more for this privilege.  Advantage Plans also tend to provide low premiums by offering high deductibles.  That too is fine, but as mentioned above, one should look at the whole cost and not the cost of the premium before deciding which package of insurance is best for him.   An advantage of the Advantage Plans is that you may deal with only one insurance company.  This company is paid in part by the United States for your coverage. So, good luck to you baby boomers reading this who soon be following me in dealing with Medicare.  
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Peru Report – October 7, 2014
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 17, 1970
Anne and I (Chuck) are back in San Francisco after our four-week visit to the country of Peru. Still not at home (until Monday) I make this report with difficulty (using Alex’s computer) but want to let everyone know we had a wonderful time visiting the tropical nation on the west coast of South America.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTAnne and I (Chuck) are back in San Francisco after our four-week visit to the country of Peru.  Still not at home (until Monday) I make this report with difficulty (using Alex’s computer) but want to let everyone know we had a wonderful time visiting the tropical nation on the west coast of South America. We joined a birding tour and covered considerable territory but still, with the exception of Lima and a bit of the Pacific coast south of Lima, our travels were within only the southeastern part of the country.  On the first day we visited the shore to see coastal deserts, marshes, ocean beaches, and cliffs.   A short ride in a very small boat brought us to views of penguins and Peruvian boobies.  The next day we flew from the coast to Cusco where we began a more than two-week trek by van, boat, taxi, and bus across and down the east slope of the high Andes Mountains through puna grasslands, fog forests, and rain forests to the rough gold-mining town of Puerto Maldonado.  The travel went well but we were fearful at times in overloaded boats, “Keystone taxis”, and roads so narrow that at least twice one of the rear wheels of our small bus dangled in space as the driver scraped the cliff on the other side to stay on the road.  We enjoyed vistas of large tropical glaciers, the sight of Andean hill people commuting (on foot) and even valley farmers plowing fields with oxen.  Our birding was graced by king vultures, various parrots, large toucans, and glorious tanagers.  At times the birding stopped as the participants ignored the guides to gaze at tapestries of ferns and orchids growing on wet cliffs along the road that took us from the high passes to the Amazon Basin.  The travel was not always comfortable but was in striking contrast to the life experienced by the poor in Peru.  They did not wear life-vests in worse boats or have internal plumbing in the various shacks that at first made us uncomfortable to look at.  We passed families of four traveling in “economy car” motor scooters with no helmets.  They were Peruvians of means.  We feared resentment but it seems in southeastern Peru there is “relative prosperity” provided by the massive tourist trade.  Everywhere we were greeted warmly. The Incan architecture, especially the masonry, is as impressive as reported.  The “ghost town” of Machu Picchu is fabulous both in being relatively intact (the Spanish colonialists mined other places for building stone) and because of its location on a narrow ridge between two deep valleys surrounded by much higher mountain ridges.  It seems to have been an Incan’s (king’s) seasonal retreat and show palace.  Discovered and cleared by an American student adventurer of some means, the site now fuels the economy of the District (State) of Cusco.  Each year the grounds are improved and more ruins exposed to view.  The local people, most of largely Native American descent finds pride in presenting works created by their ancestors to foreigners who view them with awe. The visit to Machu Picchu culminated our tour, which took us back to Cusco for departure.  There we left the group, spent one more day in that town which has plenty of historical and archeological interest, and then returned to the town of Ollantaytambo in the “Sacred Valley” near Machu Picchu.  There we spent six nights in one place to develop a sense of the place and the people.  We got there by a tour taxi that brought us together with two other members of our tour to visit a few significant Inca sites.  The last of these was at Ollantaytambo and we were dropped off at the hotel after visiting the “fortressa.”  We were a little taken aback being on our own in a little town with rough streets, obvious poverty, and poor environmental management.  I wondered if we would survive six nights there.  Certainly we would soon be desperate to depart.  I thought I had made a terrible mistake including this last stay on our itinerary.  We were both exhausted from the tour.  Home seemed to beckon! We did survive and came to enjoy Ollanta town after a few days.  We learned the ropes and overlooked the negatives.  When we crossed the market area at the entrance to the ruins we would be accosted by people peddling souvenirs.  A simple “no gracias” and a turn away sent them looking for someone else.  Some got to know us by the end of the week.  The trash is everywhere except where government cleanup is provided.  Some day the country will become conscious of it and stop the liter and random dumping, but for now it is a part of life.  It feeds the dogs, another negative.  The butcher section of the central market house was disgusting on first view with no refrigeration and many flies.  By the second time it was less shocking.  We didn’t buy there, of course, but we assumed our restaurants did.  The town bustles with tourist traffic.  Most visitors stay one night, perhaps visiting the fortressa and then taking the train to Machu Picchu.  An old Inca town, the main street and the bridge are one lane wide.  Taxis, buses, trucks, and cars jockey to enter the wider intersection at the bridge and turn down toward the train station or cross the bridge to the fortressa ruins.  Not much room for pedestrians, but it all seems to work somehow.  Our hotel sat at the intersection and I loved watching it from the balcony.  A web-camera there would entertain the world.  At breakfast we watched the children go to school.  They wore uniforms of sorts and casually negotiated the terrible crossings of the bridge and the intersection at ease.  Mountain people in traditional clothing arrived on foot, all carrying a satchel for market and often a baby.  Many crossed the bridge to sell wares at the tourist market.  We spent the morning of our first day again touring the fortressa.  We had it to ourselves on a Sunday morning.  We climbed again to the fabulous temple and then explored the agricultural terraces and the waterworks.  The Inca people diverted part of the stream into channels that flow down each of the streets of the “old town” part of Ollantaytambo.  The water still goes there through open channels down the center of the narrow pedestrian streets.  One must walk with care not to step in a hole or channel.  On most days we took at least a morning hike often to some fabulous ruin that is scarcely visited by tourists.  Our longest went to one that the residents seemed particularly proud of as being their own.  To get there we walked the same path as the mountain people and passed by their hovels and livestock on our way up the mountain.  After exploring the castle we came out to the small road and found two native women weaving.  One had a tiny baby in her satchel.  Anne wanted me to ask its age.  The girl replied, “un mes” (one month).  Anne bought a shawl from each of the women.  I was glad there were not three there. We once rode a local bus to begin a hike that took us back to Ollantaytambo.  The bus was an unmarked van.  We walked to “the bus terminal” and I spoke, “Pachar.”  Someone pointed to the van.  It looked full, but I noticed that the back seat was vacant.  We sat there.  A mountain native followed us and we filled the back row. The driver got in and finally two more men entered the front of the van and crouched.  Only 16 people, not too bad.  The suspension will fail on a different run, I thought.  There was no request for money and we wondered how we would know our stop.  Then someone shouted, “Pachar?” to us. I said, “Si!” and the van pulled over at a bridge.  We squeezed forward and I said to the driver, “Tres soles?” He said, “Si, bueno.” I paid him, said gracias, and we went on our way. We arrived again in Cusco in preparation for an afternoon flight the next day to Lima to start our trip home.  We had almost 24 hours and that was not to be wasted.  We dined, walked about, slept, visited three museums, and bought a bottle of Pisco before making our way to the airport.  We enjoyed a supper in the Lima Airport Hotel and relaxed a bit before returning to the terminal for our one a.m. (ugh!) departure to San Francisco via Miami.  Our Peruvian adventure (and our second winter and spring of Year 2014) was over.  Our arrival into the U.S. brought us into autumn.  The days will now be getting shorter and the sun’s shadow will point north at Noon.  So strange.  Our first sight at dawn was a boat in Florida Bay.  We approached the airport from the Everglades, passed the airport, and turned around over Miami Beach.  The United States looks so lovely when one has been away.  Even the officer at the Point of Entry seemed a welcome sight.  We had five hours to relax and enjoy the Miami airport before our second long flight to SFO.  We arrived there at five p.m. or about 21 hours after we left our hotel for the airport in Lima.  We were tired, we were ecstatic, and we were about to be greeted again by Alex when we arrived at his apartment.  So good to be home (of sorts.)
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