Adventures with Lance and Erin

The change from July to August was noticeable at our house, gone were the massive monsoons that dumped several inches of rain in two separate events. Instead multiple smaller storms swept through, sprinkling our property just enough to keep the plants happy. The one similarity between the two months? Triple digits. The days were definitely hot but at least they were in the low 100s and not up in the 110s. I know it may not sound like much but it makes a huge difference.

Near the beginning of the month Lance shocked his body by traveling to fall weather—he attended WordCamp San Francisco. He had a bit of trouble packing since he had to dig out cooler weather gear; like jeans, long sleeves, and even a couple sweatshirts.

Lance was welcomed back to Tucson by a hot and humid weekend. Since we only have an evaporative cooler on our house the muggy days are the worst. On hot, dry days our cooler keeps us comfortable but when the air is moist, forget it.

Read the rest of this entry »

As lovely as our time in Oregon had been it was wonderful to return home at the beginning of July. There’s something about the Sonoran Desert that just gets under your skin (sometimes literally, unfortunately).

After an unusually dry start to the year we hoped the monsoons would bring much needed moisture. It was such a relief when we learned that the storms started early with two big soakers moving through Southern Arizona in late June.

July ended up being a quick month, punctuated every other week by massive monsoon downpours, read more about them here and here.

It only took a few big storms to bring our rainfall totals back up to normal for the year. One of the problems with receiving such heavy rain in a short amount of time is that much of it runs off instead of soaking in. On our property we’ve dug ditches, created berms, and formed wells in an effort to keep the water on our land. After all, every drop counts!

In between yard work and our flood-canceled dinner plans we still managed to get together with family and friends. It was wonderful to catch up with everyone. After being away for a month it was nice to be home.

Photos: View our photographs from July Rains.

Hi lovely readers — Lance here, making my annual blog post (looking back, I posted once in 2011 and once in 2010).

I’m making the switch from mountain biking to road riding this month, with a goal of riding in the El Tour de Tucson in November 2012. First step: get a road bike.

Looking on Craigslist, and getting expert help from friends Josh W. and Brian M., I found this superb 80s Trek bicycle. All gray, with new grip tape and a new, snazzy saddle. After raising the seat height a bit, and adding my own pedals, it fits like a glove.

First ride early this morning, 8 miles on The Loop along the Santa Cruz River from Camino del Cerro to Ina Road. Love it.

This is definitely my excuse for everything from now on!

Time to finally wrap up our time in Portland. The weather was perfect for a road trip during our last weekend, so we headed toward Mt. Hood. We drove east on I-84 and at the town of Hood River we turned onto the highly recommended “Fruit Loop.”

A 35-mile loop drive through apple, cherry, and pear orchards, vineyards, and farms—all dominated by Mt. Hood. After touring the loop we drove up to the aptly named Panorama Point for lunch. Mt. Hood was still hiding behind a few high clouds but the view was wonderful. The area truly lives up to its scenic designation!

Later as we reached the flanks of Mt. Hood we were finally treated to our first close-up view of the peak without clouds. It was stunning! Arriving at Timberline Lodge we learned that the sprinkles we had received earlier had fallen as snowflakes there. I guess it isn’t that unusual, after all the Lodge is at 5,960 feet.

I’d love to tell you the height of Mt. Hood but that measurement is somewhat in question—the summit is either 11,249 or 11,239 or 11,240 depending on who you believe. Regardless, Mt. Hood is the tallest mountain in Oregon and the fourth tallest in the Cascade range. Most importantly for people into snow sports, it is high enough to offer year-round skiing and snowboarding.

Read the rest of this entry »

Common Grackle (Quiscalus quiscula)—Jekyll Island, Georgia.

Two weeks ago we shared a few photos of what it looked like out here after a monsoon dumped an inch and a half of rain. We were excited and surprised to see our road turned into a river. When we moved here three years ago we asked our neighbors about the gullies and washes that crossed the two entrance roads. They assured us that in all the years they’d lived here (since the 1960s), they’d never had any trouble getting in or out. So we figured the result of that storm was a rare event.

Sunday afternoon a little after 3pm another massive storm dumped on us. It sheeted. It poured. It pounded. Lightning and thunder came in swift one-two punches. We dashed around the house unplugging things. And for the first time ever we had to calm one of our cats because he was panicked by the cacophony.

An hour later the intensity had moved north leaving behind a gentle sprinkle. As we opened all the windows to catch the lovely, cool creosote-scented breeze we heard a dull roar. Grabbing rain jackets and a camera we tromped out in the mud to look at our flowing road. Even after what we saw two weeks ago we were impressed. The entire street was filled at least three feet deep with brown, roiling water. Then we walked out back to check on Idle Hour Wash that crosses Sunset Road.

Wandering along we were stopped by an odd sight. The noisy end of a good-sized rattlesnake was hanging out of a large packrat midden. So that’s where snakes hide during a big storm! Either that or it was busy swallowing a tasty morsel. Who doesn’t like a comfy room and an in-room dinner?

The scene on Sunset was a violent tumult. The water was widening the arroyo, underscoring and collapsing the banks. Full grown Palo Verde trees fell in with a mighty splash that we could see but not hear. As before, vehicles lined the road waiting for the flood waters to subside. Thankfully no one attempted to cross. Once again we had to cancel our dinner plans.

Unfortunately, some folks driving on Silverbell Road were not as careful. About 6pm we heard a helicopter circling just to the east of us. Using our camera and binoculars we were able to watch part of the rescue operation. The helicopter hovered as a rescuer was lowered down with a basket. We couldn’t see the action on the ground but we did catch a glimpse of the rescuer clinging to the rope as the helicopter slowly moved to higher ground. Then the basket and the rescuer unhooked, the rope was reeled in and the chopper flew off. We later learned that three people were rescued from a vehicle that had become stuck in a flooded crossing. It was a 93-year-old woman who had to be airlifted. Thankfully, they all survived. They may not feel so lucky once they receive the bill for their rescue.

Years ago Arizona enacted something called the “Stupid Motorist Law.” Simply put, if you knowingly drive around barricades or warning signs into a flooded area and get stuck, the rescuing entity can charge you for their services. After all, swift water rescues are incredibly dangerous, time consuming, and expensive. I think lawmakers were also hoping it would scare people into making better decisions. Apparently the message didn’t sink in since this was not the only rescue in the Tucson area this past weekend.

By the way, a 300’ section of road was completely destroyed by the flash flood flowing down Idle Hour Wash and Silverbell is indefinitely closed. Pima County road crews will be awfully busy the next few days, since many roads, like the ones around here, will need to be cleared of debris and repaired.

Things were warming up. Though the mornings still started off cloudy, cool, and grey—by mid-day the sun was in charge and the temperatures allowed for less clothing. The weather in Portland must’ve looked at the calendar and realized that the first day of summer was early this year. The difference was palpable.

On Saturday Lance went hiking with Michael, who still works at Digital Fusion the company Lance once contracted with. Their chosen trail led up to Indian Point which provided them with a stellar view of the Gorge. But as one might imagine, it was a bit of a climb to gain the necessary elevation. Needless to say, they earned their pint o’ brew that day.

Along with descriptions of the view and the various critters they encountered Lance recounted an exchange he and Michael had with a group of Boy Scouts. As they came off the trail Lance and Michael paused to chat with tail end of the group. When they asked the stragglers where they were headed with their backpacks, the first boy answered with a sigh, “To Hell.” The other scout chimed in, “And damnation.” Can’t you just picture those two red-faced, sweaty teenagers trudging up the hill? Hysterical!

Read the rest of this entry »

Excellent eyes! As Charles, Heidi, and Andrew pointed out the mystery critter was indeed a snake in the grass (er, brush). Hiding in this month’s Mystery Challenge photo was a Northwestern Garter Snake (Thamnophis ordinoides), common along the coastal regions of northern California and Oregon. We saw at least four of them while out hiking along the Oregon Coast Trail that day.

Northwestern Garter Snake (Thamnophis ordinoides)

Original photo with the snake’s location revealed. Compare with original.

Thanks to everyone who hazarded a guess. Check back next month for another dose of fun!

We live in an arid land. Our beloved Sonoran Desert receives on average 10-12 inches of precipitation a year in a bi-annual pattern. The Tohono O’odham, the native people who have ancestral ties to this land going back several thousand years, characterize our rainy seasons as female and male. Our gentle, long lasting winter rains (when we get them) nurture seeds in preparation for the spring growing season. So it makes sense that they are referred to as female rains. The torrential, fast moving, and powerful storms that blow through during our summer monsoon season are called male rains. We’ll leave the reasoning for that up to you.

The entire Tucson area was walloped by one of these male rains yesterday. After several days of wistfully watching the mountains around us get rain, we finally received some, too. The blustering, lightning and thunder-heavy storm was over in less than an hour yet it packed a punch. Our rain gauge collected an inch and a half, others recorded over two inches.

The storm knocked out power to thousands, toppled trees, and flooded roads—thankfully our property came through relatively unscathed. Though we did have to cancel our dinner plans since our road became a river…