Davidson Woods

Lee County - February 22, 2011
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
The sun shines and a warm breeze blows across south Florida distracting us from the turmoil of the world. I am at the condo working on chores. Anne has taken Mom and Dad to the beach to join the Gallups. We are retired but still seem to be the generation in the middle. Mom was anxious to leave this morning, apparently concerned that the family needed her as soon as possible. Dad was concerned because the water was turned off in the condo for some kind of maintenance.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTThe sun shines and a warm breeze blows across south Florida distracting us from the turmoil of the world.  I am at the condo working on chores.  Anne has taken Mom and Dad to the beach to join the Gallups.  We are retired but still seem to be the generation in the middle.  Mom was anxious to leave this morning, apparently concerned that the family needed her as soon as possible.  Dad was concerned because the water was turned off in the condo for some kind of maintenance. The travel to the beach was fraught with long lines of traffic, making a 20 minute drive into an hour.  On these trips Anne started playing opera, Straus waltzes, and flute music CD's.  That made a big difference and she doesn't know why she didn't think of that before! Yesterday, after driving them to the beach through almost an hour of traffic, Dad called Anne through the bathroom door to say he had forgotten his bathing suit and meds and that she should return here to get them.  She arrived at a compromise to use a suit borrowed from Craig and wait until their return in a couple of hours  for the medication. Meanwhile here I noticed in the Wall Street Journal a discussion of thoughts from a sad new book entitled, Manning Up:  How the Rise of Women has turned Men into Boys.  This throws up a bunch of ideas (some silly) including a new phenonemon, the “pre-adult” exemplified by entertaining characters Monica, Joey, Rachel, and Ross.  I recall our daughter telling me that Friends was inspired by the opera, La Boheme.  I don’t like this opera.  The music is great, but the characters are useless.  Sadly, today most people are unmarried until near thirty years of age and male pre-adults may become little more than entertainment and sperm donors.  Where is the fear of starvation and lonliness to inspire dedication to employment and marriage? Meanwhile we have in the Middle East protests of the people against government and in the Midwest, namely Wisconsin, protests of the government against the people.  It is a time of crisis in both places.  Here we find out if government spending can be reined in to keep us from going over the precipice.  Working in government, I have chuckled to see how easy it is for workers to feel oppressed though their salary and benefits were grand.  Government is the only organization that intentionally pays more than the cost of services and goods.  Now, finally politicians seem to realize that they can no longer spend more then they tax.  Still it will take decades to pay off the debt from past and present overspending. The other day some bonehead on TV said it would be unfair to raise the age of social security.  How fair is it to take benefits one has not paid for? In Florida the governor is cutting new programs for high speed rail, education, and prescription drug monitoring.  The interest groups scream this is terrible.  With programs to remove alien vegetation, save manatees, and prosecute cyber-bullies, aren't there enough?  We can’t do what we can’t afford, and government has been over-spending for far too long.  We have become short-timers in Florida.  We leave in less than two weeks.  Cherokee wants Anne this year.  We'll be there in May and June.  Meanwhile we’ll get home to comfort and be comforted by my parents and enjoy our home and friends in PA.  We also plan a hike on the A.T.  in central VA from April 4-12.  Anyone care to join us for all or part of a 90-mile hike? Now that our time in Cherokee is defined, we are making plans for later in the year.  We’ll visit Alex in San Fran in August and run the RV to Maine and Nova Scotia in late summer. 
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Gold Coast Visit - January 30, 2011
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
The two of us made a three-day, two-night excursion across the Everglades beginning last Thursday. We awoke early and shivered in the 50 degree weather to get started in the darkness. It took us twelve hours to cross the peninsula and turn south to Homestead where we had motel reservations. Most of our stops were in the Big Cypress Swamp and Shark River Slough areas where we spotted the usual wading birds and studied the tropical trees. We made our last stop at the Chekika entrance to Everglades National Park, but a volunteer was closing the gate as we arrived.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTThe two of us made a three-day, two-night excursion across the Everglades beginning last Thursday.  We awoke early and shivered in the 50 degree weather to get started in the darkness.  It took us twelve hours to cross the peninsula and turn south to Homestead where we had motel reservations.  Most of our stops were in the Big Cypress Swamp and Shark River Slough areas where we spotted the usual wading birds and studied the tropical trees.  We made our last stop at the Chekika entrance to Everglades National Park, but a volunteer was closing the gate as we arrived.  We chatted with her a few minutes and then cruised slowly back to the highway spotting birds in the fading light.  On Friday we drove the length of the main park road to Flamingo.  We enjoyed the usual fine sights including great alligators and one huge crocodile.  We also poked about hammocks observing the tropical vegetation.  The park is recovering nicely from the hurricanes of the past decade. On Saturday we again awoke early and drove into Miami and onto Key Biscayne.  This charming isle south of Miami Beach is perhaps the most golden part of the Gold Coast.  The north third of the island is a county park and the south third is a state park.  The middle is private and there are certainly no low-income housing units there.  I dare say there aren’t many middle class folk who own property there either.  If there are any they could sell their holdings and become rich. A small bird of the species La Sagra’s Flycatcher has elected to winter in the coastal scrub in the state park.  Most of its kind live in the Bahamas and the Caribbean islands.  For whatever reason this bird appeared on Key Biscayne last fall and spent the winter there.  This December it returned. We arrived at the park at 7:50 a.m. and waited for the gate to open at 8:00.  We watched the flag rise and the gate open, paid our eight dollars, and drove into the first parking lot.  Then we began a stroll along the “nature trail” looking for a referenced white gate.  We walked over a spoils mound and through a small coastal hammock of stopper, fig, and gumbo limbo.  Then we passed through scrub vegetation of buttonwood and stopper stopping for a flock of gnatcatchers and warblers.  I soon spotted a small crested flycatcher that gave a thin wheek call.  In a few moments both of us were catching glimpses of the bird that was moving around inside the canopy of a small tree.  We enjoyed documenting all its “field marks,” large head, slender pointed bill, white flanks, and rufous wing and tail marks as well as its distinctive call.  Then it flew off, but a few minutes later we came upon it this time sitting nicely on a wire.  There it stayed for a minute or two before returning to the bushes.  We shared a life bird kiss and moved on. We continued our walk to the scenic Cape Florida lighthouse before turning around. Returning up the trail encountered Robin Diaz who as a local volunteer was listing birds in the park.  We enjoyed picking her brain about the park and its wildlife. We left Key Biscayne as hoards of Miamians were arriving to enjoy the beauty of the island on a splendid winter morning.  We stopped in the City one more time to explore little Simpson Park.  This is is a five acre remnant of the tropical upland forest (ten feet above sea level) that once spread around the mouth of the Miami River.  Most of that forest is gone, the land now urban; but within the walls that surround this tiny park one walks through a dark forest that was once the coastal paradise of the Tequesta (not Mayaimi)Indians that inhabited this area at the time of first European contact.  There we saw one of the last wild Gulf Licaria trees in the United States.  From there our trip back to Fort Myers was uneventful except for a long drive across the City of Miami.  We arrived home in time for dinner, leftovers and relaxed celebrating a successful tour of the Everglades and Key Biscayne. This should be a quiet week around the condo.
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Life Goes on in South Florida - January 19, 2011
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
The Woods and Davidsons enjoyed a fine weekend in southwest Florida. We enjoyed a walk in Lakes Park, walks, jogs, swims, and great meals at Heritage Cove. Mark and Mary Helen were blessed to have both sets of parents here. They enjoyed their time in the warmth and returned to a storm in New York on Tuesday. We resumed our more hum-drum schedule here but made a wonderful canoe trip on that day. See notes on that below.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTMom & Dad are variously engaged in their activities including bocce.  The weather is warmer than last winter, and we are enjoying that.  Best wishes to all. A Paddle to Mound Key Fine February weather and favorable tides prompted Anne and I to rise early and drive to the Estero River paddle shop.  We arrived a few minutes before opening time and waited for the operator to arrive and open up the shop.  Walking in, we found him still setting up the register, but his dog gave us full attention demanding caresses.  He conveyed a bag of live shrimp to a fishing guide before preparing our craft, a decent sixteen-foot polyethylene canoe.  We were on the Estero River at 7:30 a.m. The outfitter is located between Ft. Myers and Bonita Springs at the Tamiami Trail (U.S. 41) crossing of the Estero River.  We would call it a creek in Pennsylvania.  At the shop the channel was perhaps 15 meters wide and a meter deep.  There was little evidence of current though it had rained lightly during the night.  Downstream at the “narrows” we would encounter tidal current, but this was to be a flat-water experience.  The water was relatively turbid.  In places in the bay we would see a meter to the bottom, but mostly we could see barely 10 centimeters below the surface.  Minnows and mullet scattered as we pushed from the dock.  In a few moments we passed under the highway bridge and began following the winding  stream overhung with Live Oak, Sand Live Oak, and Sable Palms.  Spanish Moss and bromeliads indicated that we were deep in the South.  I learned long ago that one gets a much clearer picture of an area from its waterways than from its highways that are made sterile by traffic and development.  We soon reached the Koreshan State Park with its picnic area and boat ramp.  Here in 1894 a religious group settled in the sub-tropical wilderness to establish “a new Jerusalem.”  It has faded away, but the estate is now a secular retreat.  Along the opposite shore is development variously in the form of trailer parks, a campground, and modest and extravagant houses.  In between are patches of pine flatwood parkland where south Florida Slash Pines rise scattered among palmetto thickets and prairie.  After some five miles we reached the Estero Bay Preserve where we stopped to walk a few minutes down a sandy path through pinewoods and by a small oak “hammock.”  Palm, Myrtle, and Prairie Warblers probed the vegetation and hawked for small insects.  A Bald Eagle sat on the top of a pine and watched us until an osprey, probably with a nest nearby, flew in and began harassing it.  The eagle complained but decided to move on after the osprey’s second swoop.  Already along the creek were Mangrove trees even though the absence of barnacles and oysters on their hanging roots and the presence of cattails told me that the water was still fresh.  The scientific name of the Red Mangrove is Rhizophora mangle.  Rhizophora means root-bearer and is wholly appropriate for this tree that not only drops roots from its branches but whose seeds sprout a long root before dropping from the flower.  I have never found where the name mangle comes from but I like to think it relates to the mangle of roots that makes walking through an intertidal mangrove swamp nearly impossible.  As we approached Estero Bay the flatwoods gave way completely to mangrove swamp.  The mostly 10-15 meter tall tangle that is called mangrove forest reaches its northern limit not far from here.  At Tampa there are clusters  of mangrove, but most of the intertidal is in salt marsh.  Mangrove cannot tolerate freezing, but at the mouth of the Estero River there are fine mangrove trees with hanging roots covered with barnacles and oysters.  Shaking tips of such roots that have not yet penetrated the mud into a bucket would reveal a diversity of crustaceans and other marine creatures.  We had timed our voyage properly and the outgoing tide pulled us into the Estero Bay where oyster beds and mud flats protruded from the shallow water.  We noted the channel markers indicating the entrance to the river so we could find our way back and tried heading across the shallows toward Mound Key, a prominent nearly round island among many in the bay.  We paused to observe Roseate Spoonbills, Egrets, and Ibises feeding and studied a group of terns and gulls roosting on a bar.  We discovered that a direct path would not work at the full moon low tide and returned to the channel where we had to put up with the small number of power-craft moving about the bay.  Soon enough the water deepened and we turned directly toward the island.  It at first appeared to only another mangrove island.  We knew there was a landing for the park there, but, not knowing where it was, picked a direction, clockwise, to go around the roughly 1 KM roundish island.  The channel leading to the short landing beach was, of course, some 270 degrees around the island.  Still, the circle was interesting and along the way we spotted Gumbo Limbo and Royal Poinciana behind the mangrove in places indicating high ground.  We got our exercise moving against the gentle wind for half the circle, but the water was almost calm and clear enough to enjoy watching the sand bottom for passing fish.  Almost completing our circle of the key we intersected the path of a pair of kayakers and first joined them in watching an osprey work at killing and eating a rather large fish.  This couple had been to Mound Key before and told us where to find the partially hidden entrance to the landing.  We made land ahead of them and began following the trail across the island to find many wonders. This island in the bay is significantly protected from frost by the surrounding water and supports tropical vegetation.  This far north it is occasionally touched and “pruned” by the cold.  Still, it is home for plants that I have seen nowhere else in this area.  Partly that is because of the climate, but also almost all of any high ground near the sea in this area has been cleared for development.  Even this island was clearly settled by Europeans who brought in exotic vegetation including the Royal Poinciana trees.  About one-third of the island is now in private hands and now supports a herd of small goats that have clearly much of the vegetation below two meters tall on the private land.  The island has at least two hills that are some ten meters high.  These, it is obvious from the erosion along the path, were built up of shells by the Caloosa Indians.  It is remarkable that so much elevation could be achieved from the apparent dumping of mollusk bone.  These people may have lived almost entirely from their catch of seafood, still that is a lot of clam, oyster, whelk, and snail.  The trash from this fishing made a new environment.  I imagine that during their time there, the Caloosa kept the mounds mowed to allow for fabulous views of the surrounding water and keys.  After they disappeared, probably made extinct by diseases contracted from the Spaniards who visited but were driven away by native hostility, the island remained desert until the arrival of the English almost one hundred and fifty years later.  In that time the tropical forest had turned the higher ground on the island to a fine jungle.  This was probably largely cleared by settlers in the 1800s.   The land was sold in1894 to the Koreshan group.  They maintained the clearing below the larger trees.  The State of Florida acquired the land in 1961, conducted archeological studies and established a trail.  The tropical vegetation is now filling in the intermediate layers between the ground and the tree tops.  The low land of Florida is periodically above and below the surface of the sea and so none of the island inhabitants have been there long.  Still there are “native species” that found their way there by floating seed through the air or across the water or having fruits eaten by birds that dutifully dropped still fertile seeds into the earth made sweet after its emergence from the sea.  This natural colonization and the establishment of “exotic” plants by humans provides the community of plants now upon Mound Key.  Undoubtedly there will be continued human intervention, if only to remove some of the more agressive “invasive aliens” such as Brazilian Pepper and Sansevaria (mother-in-law's tongue). Among the island shrubs is Upland Cotton.  Our schizoid relationship with this plant in south Florida is, sadly, rather typical.  It is currently illegal to grow cotton in Florida without a permit.  Permits are granted only for commercial production.  I don’t believe permits may be obtained to grow cotton in south Florida.  As recently as the 1960’s governmental efforts were made to eradicate cotton from south Florida.  Today it is protected as an “endangered species.”  Twenty years from now, who knows what its legal status will be, but it will probably continue to grow along what is left of coastal prairies in south Florida.  Among the cotton will be the Pink bollworm that the Department of Agriculture wants to keep away from commercially grown cotton.  Whatever its vegetation in the past or future, the island’s upland center currently has a plant community that is probably unique.  The canopy includes Royal Poinciana, Gumbo Limbo, Strangler Fig, and a few Sable Palms.  The Poinciana is deciduous and in this season the branches were largely bare of their ferny bipinnate leaves.  The understory has at least three species of Stoppers, Sea Grape, Cat-claw Pithecellobium, and Lime Prickly-ash.  There are scattered clusters of Upland Cotton, American Agave, and Spanish Bayonet.  Woven among trees and shrubs are tropical vines including Barbed-wire Cactus.  The ground cover includes dozens of species of native and exotic forbs, herbs, and succulents.  The upland hammock is surrounded, of course, by mangrove forest with Red Mangrove, Black Mangrove, White Mangrove, and Buttonwood.  The branches of these trees are adorned with an assortment of epiphitic bromeliads and orchids.  All this makes the island a botanist’s delight.  We walked to the still open lookout at the top of the highest hill for a view of the bay.  There we found several Florida Privet shrubs, already in full bloom and drawing honey bees and flies.  We also saw a strange bird, a thrasher, that might have been a Bahama Mockingbird, but it avoided giving us a decent view.  After walking the length of the island and even finding the herd of goats, we returned to the canoe for lunch before launching on a return voyage.  We had paddled more than ten miles and the crew was ready to return with the tide up the Estero River.  The run was uneventful except for a near collision with a Manatee.  The afternoon was sunny and warm as we docked after a fine naturalists’ cruise into the Estero Bay.
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Heritage Cove - January 12, 2011
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
A cold front arrived yesterday uneventfully. There was a stillness and fog at dawn. Anne and I (Chuck) worked up a cleansing sweat jogging around Brant Point Circle. We greeted and chatted with a dozen or so couples and singles walking dogs or themselves along the course. Usually, in consequence of this being a "senior community," we are the only ones actually running.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTA cold front arrived yesterday uneventfully.  There was a stillness and fog at dawn.  Anne and I (Chuck) worked up a cleansing sweat jogging around Brant Point Circle.  We greeted and chatted with a dozen or so couples and singles walking dogs or themselves along the course.  Usually, in consequence of this being a "senior community," we are the only ones actually running.  Mom and Dad went off to church as we made our constitutional and returned for a second breakfast.  We worked on chores and then Anne made lunch for all of us.  The sky cleared in the afternoon when the breeze returned.  The sunshine pushed through and, when the temperature reached into the 70's, Anne encouraged Mom and Dad to take the opportunity to swim in the pool.  I regreted not going with them but stayed studying the literature of peculiar south Florida trees.  Anne and I shopped for groceries and returned to prepare food.  She put together a wonderful quiche for supper while I measured, chopped, and mixed ingredients for granola which I baked after we had eaten.  By then the air was definiately cooling, but the oven added warmth and the fragrance of pecan, wheat germ, and coconut to the apartment.  Dad dwells on the news too much.  This week some whacko shot a Congresswoman and others out west somewhere and the newsmen have devoted most of their attention to useless speculation on this incident.  Ironically they will have lost all interest in a few weeks when something is actually known about the matter.  When the news ended, the game shows began.  Vanna spun the wheel of fortune,  Anne quilted, and I took care of the mail.  We watched a TV show, NCIS, by ourselves in the study from 9-10.    Mom and Dad would find it puzzling.  They instead glanced at an old movie comedy before retiring.   They had already closed the patio door to stop the firm breeze that had come around to that direction.  Turning on the dishwasher, which fills rapidly from the many mini-meals, we went to bed.  This morning Anne's I-pod told us that the temperature was 43 degrees so we slipped on long sleeves for our run.  Fewer people were making loops this morning, and the gulls, cormorants, and a single eagle worked hard to maintain their courses through the strong northeast wind that shook the palm trees. Today we plan to take Mom and Dad to a nursery that has advertised an orchid and bromilead sale and then to the Dixie Grocery Liquidator discount grocery store near Bonita Springs.    We are all in need of an afternoon adventure!  Bocce starts tomorrow, I believe.  We will root for Mom and Dad's teams.  On Friday, Mark and Mary Helen arrive for the weekend.  The weather will be moderating, so they should have a good one.  Rumor has it another snowstorm is heading their way.  We look forward to welcoming them to the land of mild winters.
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Merry Christmas from South Mountain
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
It is dawn at our little house in the forest. Cloudy and 24 degrees, but only traces of snow among the leaf litter. Forecasters have annonced that the threatening storm will materialize out to sea and allow Chuck's sister and parents to come up the montain to join our Christmas feast. Last year heavy snow kept them away.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTIt is dawn at our little house in the forest.  Cloudy and 24 degrees, but only traces of snow among the leaf litter.  Forecasters have annonced that the threatening storm will materialize out to sea and allow Chuck's sister and parents to come up the montain to join our Christmas feast.  Last year heavy snow kept them away. Yesterday, we were among the many Americans in transit.  Elley caught her train from NYC after a sweet farewall to her boyfriend Adam.  We met her at the Lancaster station that is being renovated.  Anne ran in while Chuck sat in the car.  Parking was scarcely possible. Alex flew from San Francisco.  We followed his progress by Internet, and he texted his status as well.  With a scheduled arrival at Harrisburg at 8:45 a.m. we had breakfasted and were ready to drive there when he texted that the flight that was supposed to take him from Newark to Harrisburg was cancelled.  The plane would not fly.  Oh, oh.  The airline put him on a bus.  Now Elley would arrive first.  We met here and brought her back to York, stopping at a mall first and then ye olde vacuum cleaner shop where a rapid repair was made.  Being only about a hundred meters from the York Farmers' Market, we went there for lunch and to greet old friends. Then it was time to drive back across the Susquehanna and past the famous Three Mile Island (billowing its nuclear steam) to the airport.  Alex had arrived.  We returned to York and found my sister arrived and Mom Strehl in true Christmas spirit.  She coralled enough energy to make her famous lasagna and was proud to host us.  We chatted of current and past times with Chuck's parents and celebrated the reunion.  Everyone was tired, especially Alex after his long trip, so we came home earlier than usual, skipping our stop at the York church service.  We scattered our gifts under  the little tree, shared a night cap, and went to bed. Now, as usual, Anne and Chuck are up first.  Anne has lit the fireplace and started the coffee.  She is begging me, Chuck, to begin making breakfast, including regional traditional scrapple, and so I must go.  To all of you who glance at this website, we wish you a wonderful Christmas whereever you are. Chuck & Anne
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All Quiet on South Mountain - Chuck & Anne - November 14, 2010
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
We are at home and enjoying domestic tranquility so have not posted lately. Still, a lot has happened since our last post. We enjoyed a trip to New York State for the wedding and stayed a week reaping the gracious hospitality of the Woods family. On the Saturday after the wedding we moved the RV to Arrowhead Marina and RV Park on the Mohawk River west of Scotia. The private park is lovely in a birch grove along the river. Our friends Jane and Bob arrived to begin a bike tour of the Erie Canal bikeway from Albany to Buffalo.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTWe are at home and enjoying domestic tranquility so have not posted lately.  Still, a lot has happened since our last post.  We enjoyed a trip to New York State for the wedding and stayed a week reaping the gracious hospitality of the Woods family.  On the Saturday after the wedding we moved the RV to Arrowhead Marina and RV Park on the Mohawk River west of Scotia.  The private park is lovely in a birch grove along the river.  Our friends Jane and Bob arrived to begin a bike tour of the Erie Canal bikeway from Albany to Buffalo.  During this tour, the RV was our base camp.  On Day 1, the guys drove one vehicle to Albany and the gals, including Mary Helen started at Douglas Road in Schenectady.  We met in the middle and the gals met Frank who peddled from Albany and then returned there with the ladies.  All enjoyed the thirty mile ride without incident.  On Day 2 we left one car at Schenectady and all drove to the villager of Sprakers about 30 miles west of Schenectady.  We peddled down the Mohawk and back to Douglas Road for a last time.  On Day 3 we drove with the bikes to Herkimer and peddled to Sprakers where we loaded the bikes into the car we had started fro the day before to return to camp.  On this day we toured the Herkimer House and became aquainted with Col. Herkimer and the Battle of Oriskany. Our plan was to move the next day (Thursday) to Blossvale and not bicycle that day, but the weather forecast for Friday was ominous.  So, we moved early and started what was supposed to be a relatively short (25 mile) run to Utica at lunchtime.  Margaret had called and decided to meet us by peddling from Utica west on the trail.  This was good, but in early afternoon the rain arrived as both parties reached Rome.  Worse, the bike trail was completely unmarked in Rome.  We had a map which helped only a bit, and Margaret, following NYDOT bike route signs for a different trail became completely lost.  We recovered her through the magic of cell phones.  Meeting in a buidling supply center we rejoiced and continued our soggy ride east into Utica.  We arrived at dusk and revived our spirits with dinner at a pub.  Margaret returned to Schenectady, the rest of us to our new camp.  Friday was indeed a rainy day.  We shopped, laundered, and toured.  Jane & Bob went to the Long Distance Runners Museum while Mary Helen, Anne, and I (Chuck) went to the Fort Stanwix Historic Site to view the nifty visitor center designed by one Rob Woods.  We learned more about this theater of the Revolutionary War and enjoyed the exhibits and dry warmth of the hall.  The weather simply did not permit our walking about the replica of the fort itself. On Saturday we bicycled again and on Sunday moved the rig one more time to Waterport.  Mary Helen had to return to Chappaqua so we made farewells after a fine breakfast at Mary's Diner.  Over the next three days we made 40 mile bike rides through rural landscapes in good weather.  On the last day we lunched in an Irish Pub in Lockport.  We returned home on October 21 passing much fall foliage.  A grand trip done. At home we follow a somewhat standard pattern.  On weekdays we jog a few miles at dawn.  Maintaining the daily run became more difficult last week when our neighbors Jane and Bob fled to Florida.  Now we have to do it on our own.  After that we conduct our chores or special activities.  Currently Anne is quilting and has also begun making some wool carpets.  Chuck completed landscaping and is building a laundry table.  We run to York regularly to see Chuck's parents and often to go with them to doctor's appointments. We are now preparing for the Thanksgiving holiday.  We will spend it here and in York.  Elley is coming to South Mountain on Tuesday.  Her friend Adam is joining us on Thanksgiving day.  We will pick him up at the Lancaster train station and take him to York.  Chuck's sister Laurie will bring the bird there for the big day. Last week Anne worked at a Gettysburg family practice office giving the husband and wife group a chance to vacation.  Each week is different, but there is much less stress than when we were both working.  We plan for the new year.  We have to see how it goes with all our parents and if the Cherokee Hospital wants Anne to work there for a bit, but are working on various travel plans.  None are as big as this year's "Wild West 2010" adventure, but we AT hiking, spring birding in Michigan, a summer tour of the Atlantic Maritime area, and a bike hike along the Nachez Trace are possible.  We won't do all of them, but hope to do at least a couple of them.  Of course, we plan to go to Fort Myers in January and February.  Meanwhile, we wish all of our kith and kin a Happy Thanksgiving.
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INFLATION
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
Some thoughts for the few readers of this website. A bit of politics perhaps. Take it or leave it as you wish.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTSome thoughts for the few readers of this website.  A bit of politics perhaps.  Take it or leave it as you wish. I write of one of my pet peeves can now be better explored in the era of the Internet.  Inflation has been more than an irritant to my existence.  Growing up in the 1950’s and ’60’s and working through the rest of the 20th Century, we struggled endlessly with regular and at times extreme inflation.  It slowed down significantly but still did not stop in the 1980’s and ‘90’s.  I joked, however, that when we were poor and had to borrow money, interest rates were at 10% and then, when we no longer had debt and instead could save, the interest rates became 3%.  Still the earnings on savings seldom exceeded the rate of inflation.  Worse, savings income is taxed which made it even harder to justify savings.  The wise did not save.  Instead they chose to leverage inflation with debt.  I cursed their irresponsibility when I was younger.  Now I laugh and cry that saving was such a foolish activity.  Still, if we did not save persistently, we could not have dared give up work a few years early. I knew that inflation has been a perfidious and chronic phenomenon.  In reading old books or reports, one is struck by the value of labor and goods a hundred years ago.  I knew that government could control inflation, and I read in school that government often pumped up the money supply (and inflation) during times of war.  I also know that economic events might cause monetary imbalance, but thought the government should be able to adjust for that.  So why is inflation so constant? Wikipedia and the Bureau of Labor Statistics have answers.  Inflation, as we know it, is a recent phenomenon beginning in the 1930’s.  Before that the dollar value went up and down, but over decades, indeed throughout the 1800’s, it remained largely constant.  Inflation during the Revolutionary, Civil, and World I Wars pushed down the value of the dollar, but otherwise it bounced up and down, some years very significantly, but generally maintained its value. The value of the dollar began a serious downward trend only in the 1920’s and then its current and continuing plunge in the post-World War II era.  The common excuse is that “a little inflation” provides stability and flexibility for the Federal Reserve Bank to manage financial crises.  Indeed the current Wikipedia article credits the continuous inflation of recent decades from preventing severe recessions.  I suggest that this section could stand some revision. I believe that inflation is promoted and has been maintained as another tax, and a very effective one.  Inflation is a gift to the debtor and a curse to the creditor, and since many of us are debtors, we grumble much less about inflation than we should.  The government, being the largest debtor in the world, does itself a huge favor when it decreases the value of its debt, which is monetized in dollars.  Since even currency is really a government IOU, inflation automatically transfers money from the dollars in your pocket to the government every day. More, the government taxes earned interest and dividends.  Interest and dividends reflect the value of deferring spending.  In theory interest should balance inflation and risk.  One loans a dollar with the expectation of getting a dollar back.  But if a dollar is worth 95 cents next year, one wants at least an interest of five cents to break even.  Today savings accounts pay about 1.5%, but inflation is about 2.5%, so you loose money when you save.  Yet the government taxes the interest as if you made money.  That is part of the magic of inflation. Now as the government goes into a black hole of debt, there is discussion among “economists” that a higher rate of inflation would be beneficial.  In an era when excessive borrowing by individuals and government has led to a stagnation that cannot end until savings are restored and people are harshly nudged by a lack of “free money” from under-funded government handouts (ranging from social security and food stamps to government pensions) making the debt shrivel through inflation has great appeal to government bankers.  No one wants to admit that we are and will have to continue for some time paying for what we have already bought.  Instead, the government is busy buying more things we don’t need thinking that it is a shortage of money that is causing the problem.  No one wants to admit that the problem is not a shortage of money but the crazy idea of those who have money that if they invest or loan it they might not get it back.  How could they get such an idea? The obvious solution is to encourage savings and private investment.  How could this be accomplished?  Perhaps by the government taking and spending less money?  If that is asking too much, it could start by maintaining the stability of the dollar.  I would be the first to encourage a bit of inflation.  A target of 0.5% seems ideal.  In a crisis the rate could be cut in half to 0.25% or doubled to 1.0% to achieve monetary goals.  Inflation would continue but at a rate where pricing and labor cost decisions could be made free of the confusion associated with the current high rate of inflation.  Interestingly, there recently have been various expressions of concern for deflation.  Deflation is a natural reaction to the gross over-valuation of assets resulting from the massive over-borrowing of the past decade.  Houses, for instance, became ridiculously over-priced and their value is deflating nicely.  Is it a bad thing that the cost of housing is becoming more reasonable?  Deflation is a consequence, not the cause of the problem.  We may prefer to avoid deflation, but then we should have avoided the wild inflation that led to it.  The solution is not more inflation!  The government measures inflation, and does so rather badly.  Since the government benefits from inflation, this is no surprise.  During the 1990’s the cost of housing, education, health care, and taxes exploded.  The inflation rate scarcely reflected these increases.  I cannot estimate how much higher the actual rate of inflation exceeds the consumer price index, but suspect it could be as much as double.  With inflation “moderate” is it any wonder that the Federal Reserve Bank kept pumping money into the system creating and ultimately bursting a housing bubble.  At the same time, the government encouraged and supported the mortgage industry “to make home ownership possible for more people.”  Today, it is de jure to blame our economic stagnation on bankers or hedge funds.  No one wants to blame the borrowers, “they were defrauded,” nor the government, “it is stemming the damage”.  The lesson to be learned, I guess, is that logic does not necessarily work to one’s benefit.  I made many mistakes leading up to the crisis in 2009.  Most ironic was not investing in bonds of Freddie May.  I knew the rate being paid was too low considering the risks it was taking.  The Wall Street Journal warned of its collapse and suggested that the government might end up making good on its debt.  Why wondered I as a taxpayer would the government be so stupid as to do that?  In fact it happened.  I should have made a bad investment knowing that in fact it would be made good.  Wiser men than I did so.  My point is that bad policy makes bad behavior that causes great harm.  We as citizens should demand more responsible government.  If we don’t, we bear what we reap.  It is time we thought more about basic philosophy (common sense) than about the benefits of “stimulus packages.”  It would also help if we thought more about supporting ourselves than about government welfare, but I guess if we did that we wouldn’t be entitled to such things as financial aid for our children’s education.  Does anyone wonder why we don’t save anymore?  This is a problem that will take decades to resolve.  Until we do, we may become poorer and poorer.  Better we start getting used to it. Chuck Strehl  
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August 28, 2010 - South Mountain, Medallan Township PA
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
Our RV, Harley, has returned to home base! We arrived home in it at about six a.m. this morning, pulled into our driveway, parked, crawled into our bed in the back, and slept for about two hours. We had completed a marathon run from southern Illinois starting yesterday morning with only brief stops along the way. After breakfast this morning, we wacked weeds to make a path, opened up the house, and unloaded the camper.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTOur RV, Harley, has returned to home base!  We arrived home in it at about six a.m. this morning, pulled into our driveway, parked, crawled into our bed in the back, and slept for about two hours.  We had completed a marathon run from southern Illinois starting yesterday morning with only brief stops along the way.  After breakfast this morning, we wacked weeds to make a path, opened up the house, and unloaded the camper.  There was a mixture of joy and sadness.  Our adventure is over, but we are glad to be home and will visit my (Chuck's) parents and sister tomorrow in York.  Anne likely will drive to NYC next week to check up on our recuperating Elley.  I (Chuck) will probably stay with my parents while she is there and provide comfort as my Dad recovers from his foot surgery and Mom adjusts to her new disability (leg weakness.) We were headed home most of this week.  We left the Carbones after a great three day visit to Great Sand Dunes and drove to the high prairie of Eastern Colorado where we successfully located and observed a half dozen Mountain Plover, a life bird for us.  Finding the bird on the first of two days set for the task, we left Colorado a day early and arrived in Illinois after a two-day drive with a short night's sleep in a Cracker Barrel Restaurant parking lot.  We hoped to find migrating Buff-bellied Sandpiper in Illinois, but instead found the fields there flooded.  This sandpiper stops at dry fields, so after one day of fruitless searching we left Illinois a day early as well.  The abbreviated visits allow us to join my sister in York tomorrow.  She has to return to work at Princeton on Monday. So, now our motorhome is turned off and resting quietly here.  We lived in it some 22 weeks since leaving Pennsylvania in the middle of March.  We enjoyed grand visits to many friends and relatives and our son, of course.  We also found many birds, including some 43 life-birds.  So far this year we have seen 457 species of birds and will probably see 500 before the year is over.  A good year for birding. So much for now.  We are happy to be home, but tired after the travel and unpacking.  We still have to clear off the bed in the house so we can sleep inside tonight.  Housecleaning will wait until after tomorrow's visit to York.  The house appears to be in good shape and everything, including the water pump started this morning.  Pennsylvania looks very green after our months in arid parts of the West.  We enjoy the moisture, even the humidity.
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August 10, 2010 - Huachuca City AZ
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
Whew. We pause today after two weeks of intensive birding during the "monsoon" season in southeastern Arizona. The exercise has been demanding, frustrating, and immensely rewarding. First there was a week at Amado from where we probed the Santa Rita Mountains and the frontier region along Pena Blanca Road. Last week we joined the Southwestern Wings Birding and Nature Festival in Sierra Vista. Volunteer and professional guides led us into the Huachuca
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENT<html><head></head><body><img width="250" height="316" align="left" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776545130/montezuma_quail.jpg" alt="">Whew.  We pause today after two weeks of intensive birding during the "monsoon" season in southeastern Arizona.  The exercise has been demanding, frustrating, and immensely rewarding.  First there was a week at Amado from where we probed the Santa Rita Mountains and the frontier region along Pena Blanca Road.  Last week we joined the Southwestern Wings Birding and Nature Festival in Sierra Vista.  Volunteer and professional guides led us into the Huachuca Mountains and the San Pedro River Valley day and night.  We finished up with the keynote dinner on Saturday night and slept in on Sunday morning.  Still missing a couple of species, we again birded independently Sunday and Monday before calling it quits yesterday afternoon.  Today is a day of rest and recovery.  We had planned to move today, but delayed that until tomorrow.  Instead we do laundry, pay bills, catch up on news, and correspond. We still have a few more days to explore the regional avifauna.  Tomorrow we will move, probably to Rodeo NM just across the border from Arizona.  We know an RV Park there that will serve as base camp for excursions into the famous Chiricahua Mountains in the southeast corner of Arizona.  This is the largest of the famous Arizona "sky islands" that provide habitat for high altitude birds, plants, and animals that settle there from points north and south.  Odd combinations include, among the birds,  pine grosbeaks, northern goshawk, Mexican jay, and red-faced warbler.  Similarly, the forest hosts subalpine fir, limber pine, Apache pine, and Chihuahua pine.  Among birders, the area is famous for species whose ranges barely cross into the United States from Mexico and for Mexican vagrants that often appear at the end of the breeding season. We have found fourteen life birds here.  These are white-eared hummingbird, berylline hummingbird, blue-throated hummingbird, greater pewee, buff-breasted flycatcher, dusky-capped flycatcher, sulpher-bellied flycatcher, thick-billed kingbird, olive warbler, red-faced warbler, rufous-winged sparrow, Botteri's sparrow, five-striped sparrow, and whiskered screech owl.  Except for a few nocturnal species that have ceased vocalizing we have missed only one of the regular summer residents.  This is the Montezuma quail.  This secretive and uncommon bird must be chanced upon.  We hope to spot one in the next couple of days but may miss it.  Among the hardest to get was the five-striped sparrow.  We hiked down a canyon for it.  The water was up and Anne fell off a wall trying to skirt the stream and floated through the gap we were trying to climb around.  Her camera did not survive.  We found the bird, but Anne managed only a glimpse.  Still, we enjoyed its simple song that sounds a bit like "steak tar-tare."  We were also frustrated by the buff-breasted flycatcher.  We didn't take the Wings field trip for it assuming we could find it ourselves.  We didn't know that its breeding season is drawing to a close.  Two days ago, arriving at the location of one of the three or four colonies within the United States, we heard not a one and could not find the bird after waking a few miles of trail.  I had hoped to avoid going into Fort Huachuca where the most reliable location for this species is located.  Reaching the pine grove there where the flycatchers live entails the usual security hassles of entering a U.S. Army installation, carefully complying with traffic laws rigidly enforced by the military police, and driving a rough jeep road.   Our Ford Focus has neither four-wheel drive nor high clearance.  Crawling around rocks that could inflict fatal wounds to the oil pan and other guts of the car, I wondered if we would "dip" on the flycatcher there too.  Arriving at the end of the road, we heard none of the song of this smallest of the North American flycatchers.  Walking up the trail we captured only a glimpse of a bird that frustratingly flew off before we could savor a view.  Reaching the end of the reported range, we turned around without seeing additional birds.  Patience was finally rewarded when after pausing for ten minutes at each of several spots, we heard one bird giving a late season song.  We stalked it and found a pair of birds in a grove of Chihuahua pines.  The tiny orangish male shook as he called out a not very musical "pidew, pidew, piDEW" song.  Not sure that we will ever see this bird again, we followed him about his territory for some time to extend our brief acquaintanceship. Although the almost daily showers of late summer revive avian activity somewhat, this is still August birding.  With breeding and nesting largely over, the birds quietly vanish into the bush and are hard to find.  The unusual species, including about a dozen different kinds of hummingbirds, make the birding special here, but the birding is not especially easy.  We really did earn our life birds here, and are proud of them.  The heat, spiny plants, abundant ants, intense sunshine, and biting insects in places add to the difficulties.  We hope for a few more good birds, mostly not lifers, in the next few days.  We know locations for short-tailed, zone-tailed, and northern goshawk in the Chiricahuas.  Of course we do want to find Montezuma quail, the last somewhat probable life bird.  We also hope that some oddball will show up, but lately there have been no postings of vagrants so that is unlikely.  We are already heading home.  After crossing into New Mexico we will take several days to reach Colorado.  The weather will be cooler at Great Sand Dunes.  From there we plan to stop in the eastern Colorado plains to search for mountain plover.  Their nesting is over and so they will be hard to find, but we hope to find it with the help of local observers.  We plan a stop in Illinois in hopes of catching site of a buff-breasted sandpiper.  This species migrates in August down the Mississippi Valley from its nesting grounds on islands north of Canada to its wintering grounds in the tropics.  We have a decent chance of finding this hard-to-find bird.  As always, luck will come into play. Our voyage continues well.  We are healthy and so is the RV.  The good ship "Harley" will need service when we return to port, but she has performed well on this major voyage.  We long to see family,  friends, and our little log house on South Mountain.  Homemade bread, granola, and cookies are sorely missed.  So too are Pennsylvania pretzels and beer.  A Sunday breakfast with scrapple will be relished.  We also have numerous Eastern birds to see before they flee to points south.  We left the East before they returned from the tropics this year.  We hope to add them to our list for what will undoubtedly be our biggest year for seeing birds.  We look forward to that as our expedition now draws to a close.  Still, our adventure continues for about two more weeks.  There will be grand scenery, great finds, and, hopefully, minor crises to manage before we find our way back to Loop Road.</body></html>
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Chuck & Anne - On the Border 2010
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
We currently reside at the town of Amado in Arizona some 40 miles from the border with the state of Sonora, Mexico. We find Arizona more focused on the issue of border security than most. This has lead to controversy, I suppose, but the people here have bigger concerns than criticism from those who think they know better.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTWe currently reside at the town of Amado in Arizona some 40 miles from the border with the state of Sonora, Mexico.   We find Arizona more focused on the issue of border security than most.  This has lead to controversy, I suppose, but the people here have bigger concerns than criticism from those who think they know better.  This afternoon I drove through a border patrol checkpoint and was scrutinized, or, dare I say, profiled.  I spoke only a few words in perfect American and was waved through.  My language was correct and my clothing was in the proper style.  Easy.  Still, all this effort for what?  A couple of weeks ago someone released a list apparently taken from a state agency that listed thousands of illegal aliens .  Why does the INS not simply take that  list and begin deportations?  Perhaps because such action might discourage the border traffic and the agency's business. We plan hiking in the border region is search of birds that are rarities in this country.  The fowl require no visas to cross the border.  Arizona residents offer various suggestions for confrontations with illegals.  Don't see them.  Carry no money.  Give up anything they demand.  We listen and hope we won't need the advice, but we have found the first suggestion to effective in the past.  In fact we have suffered more danger from U.S. and Mexican border patrol agents than from the illegals.  Once a patrol boat nearly swamped our canoe in the Rio Grande.  In any case, we'll be running the gauntlet of border crossers and law enforcement officials over the next couple of weeks.  Wish us luck and safety. I suspect that the border problem could be easily resolved through the legalization of narcotics and establishment of a simple guest worker program.  Rational approaches aside, we could at least require employers demonstrate the legality of their workers.  Instead we make massive increases in border patrol that are no match for the economic forces that drive men to struggle across an inhospitable and guarded frontier to transport people and product..  I once hoped that the border would be secured.  I would prefer our population was stable, but there is no support for this view.  I don't dislike individual illegals.  I respect their desire and ambition to better their lives and improve the prosperity of their families.  That said, allowing people to gain residency without following the onerous immigration procedures that we demand of others to establish residency and citizenship is grossly and morbidly unfair.  Failure to enforce immigration laws puts our security and prosperity at risk.  Opening our borders completely may seem a wonderful idea, but  it creates enormous problems.  Sadly, there are now so many conflicting interests that there probably can be no solution.  Not long ago, Republicans argued for an ordered immigration plan for Mexican workers.  The Democrats, hounded by blue collar unions, refused to support any such thing.  Now, with public frustration over the cost of illegal immigration so high, Republicans won't discuss immigration reform until better control of illegal immigration, presumably through mass deportation, is accomplished.  This is clearly impossible. Democrats, salivating at the thought of legalizing illegals as Democratic voters, seem unconscious to the perception of existing voters that a mass benediction of criminality will be of no benefit their job search. So, a political solution seems very unlikely.  The states most affected, and especially so Arizona, make feeble steps to manage the problem on their own. Arizona was not so impacted by border crossings until California tightened its borders.  This moved the traffic east.  Tired of  futile federal controls, the state is trying a new approach.  The federal government bizarrely seems irritated that Arizona wants to assist it in identifying and deporting those violating federal law.  Even I find this a bit maddening. Still, I scratch my head and figure that the control is hopeless.  While control of our borders would be grand, too many, for a variety of reasons, refuse to support changes that would make illegal aliens leave the country.  So, Instead of undertaking meaningful controls, we will spend more and more money on agents and "wall."  But, as long as the Mexican worker can find work in los Estados Unitos, he and she will come.  We won't stop them.  We will simply spend more money uselessly.  So sad and so dangerous.
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