Walking Prescott

Street scenes

2008-09-04T21:01:00.013-07:00

The setting is downtown Prescott, recently. The time: whenever. The theme: whatever. Pictures accumulate; their stories, though slight, should be told. For example, the state of the economy as seen near the Square. Above, Brian's Irish Pub; below, a sign at the corner of Gurley and Cortez Streets that I seem to have missed forever and a day.

Then there's the one-time wonderful bookstore location, more recently a sales office for a big, subdivided ranch. Now empty for several months. I'm sure that there's no hope for a return of The Satisfied Mind, but pressing my nose against the glass I noted what looked like a few decor items. Plus two coonskin hats on a coat rack. Huh?

However, if you're looking for diversity in stuff, the place to pause is in front of Batterman's Auction House where currently the Gurley Street doors open and out come: The $690 pig. The bar chairs. The garden tools. The marine dress uniform. The household cement mixer. No telling what'll be next.

Not as nearly as diverse -- elements of somebody's move from place 1 to place 2. Probably not to pricey 325 McCormick Place, however. Though, you never know. With the morning newspapers still outside the door (lower left corner), perhaps an overstuffed sofa next the sidewalk will soon follow. Maybe chickens on the balconies?

Further up the street: I didn't know these olive drab postal relay boxes were still in use in this day of motorized mailfolk. Perhaps mail to the shops on the Square is delivered on foot; it would certainly make sense. And it would require a holding pen for a lot of the mail.

One by one, they snuck up on me, these runners did, and accumulated at the corner. Stop. Then go. The time was after school hours. These are kids who aren't spending all their time playing computer games.

This crew of downtown walkers is a lot more deliberate. A few of the self-styled Buscaderos, who show up at the Square of a Saturday to add a different kind of color to our downtown. Impresses the tourists, it does. The Chamber of Commerce loves the act and the guys get a kick out of playing dress-up, Old West style.

There's always a reason to bring your chairs to the Square. Usually it involves music or dancing or both.

On weekends, you can count on a variety of vehicles downtown. Here this cute little two-seater gets its tires kicked...

...while this guy prepares to leave his Harley to join musicians on the Square.

A Harley wannabe. When I was much younger, that style of handlebar was called an ape hanger.

Of course, I am an obsessive when it comes to pictures of motorcycles. This chap, a visitor from Malaysia, wanted me to include him in, so I obliged. He was amazed that I had actually heard of Malaysia; he and his buddies are involved in a training short course down in The Valley.

Across the street from the yellow bikes was the troubadour. I don't know if he's a regular or not. Wouldn't surprise me.

Flowering blues

2008-09-03T22:02:00.007-07:00

After my plaintive note last night, it seems only fitting and proper to consider the question of blue. Blue blossoms. Not unheard of here, but not that common either. Probably the reason that every spring I wait for the arrival at the nursery of lobelia six-packs (above) to grace my pot garden. Not that my lobelia does all that well; I think it might prefer a little less sun. I also have a nice small stand of perennial plumbago (below), though it waits until the end of summer to flower.

It's only been late in my life that I've developed this hunger for true blue flowers. Maybe because I ODed on blue early in life; that's the color of my eyes and my mother dressed me in blue several times too often. The aversion has totally worn off at this time in my life and I look forward to the rains, when wild morning glories appear. Not quite as dramatic as the Heavenly Blues that I'm still awaiting from my seed smugglers, but satisfying nonetheless. The color of these flowers is a curious combination, what folk in the printing trades call reflex blue, meaning that a red underlies the blue effect. In convolvulaceae, blossoms open quite blue early in the day, gradually taking on a more purple hue.

In case you are out in the woods this week and next, you might see small bright blue jewels in moist shady areas. Pretty little day flowers, cousin to spiderworts and wandering jew. I'm blessed with a few up my hill and even more along the next street above me.

Finally, this is a wild plant whose seed I hope to plant this winter; it's a phacelia from the Mojave Desert with the common name of California bluebells. Very very pretty, covered with small blossoms. I often wonder why the paucity of blue flowers; is this a southwestern, an American or a worldwide phenomenon? Mind you, I am speaking of true blue, not lavenders or purples, which some people (especially guys) will call blue. Not me. I like the real thing. I really do.

Disappointing day

2008-09-02T22:50:00.004-07:00

They gave an election today and, guess what -- the developers won! Yes, I had a righteous good friend running in the primary, but today was not a good day for mavericks. She lost, as did a couple of others. Too bad.

May I say that our newspaper did its part? At no point did I read in its pages just how I, as an independent, non-affiliated voter, could take part in this all important local primary election. Mind you, I have always been reasonably savvy politically. Yet I didn't know until my buddy told me that I could march into the polling place and simply ask for a ballot for any party (4 of 'em, it turns out). Important in Yavapai County, since most all of the local Republicans are running quite unopposed in the big November election.

I even stuck my neck out and wrote a brief letter-to-the-editor to that effect. Of course, it was not published. I'm left wondering just how many voters in our county really, really want more government by good ole boys and would have voted against them if they had known how to do it. I don't have that much against good ole boys -- except when they turn out to be the usual purveyors of more rooftops and more retail.

Apologia: When I started Walking Prescott, one of my promises to myself was to stay out of politics. The Internet and the blogosphere is stuffed full of politics and adding my voice to all that shrill cacophony didn't sound particularly promising. Still doesn't. I should have my cool back in a day or so.

Hurricane aftermath

2008-09-01T22:24:00.008-07:00

Hurricane Gustav is spiraling its way north and west across Louisiana as I write. New Orleans appears to have been spared the worst; I haven't heard from the youngsters over in Cajun country to the west to find out what damage, if any, they have suffered. Not surprising then that I was reminded of pictures taken in May of the small fishing and oil-platform servicing port of Cameron on the Gulf coast while I visited in Louisiana.

As the US Geological Service reported, the beaches of Cameron Parish, Louisiana were located just east of the point of landfall for Hurricane Rita, in the right-front quadrant where winds and surge were a maximum. Some small towns in this zone no longer have any structures remaining. The combination of low elevations and a storm surge approaching 6 m (20 ft) that swept across the coast, resulted in bare concrete slabs and less-than-vertical pilings where buildings had been located. That was in late September 2005, only three weeks after Katrina trashed New Orleans.

Nearly three years later, these are just some of the sights that I saw, primarily in Cameron, which didn't rate much mention in the press.

All those bare foundations! Very difficult to picture the destruction that they represent.

But people are adaptable...
...and continue to think of tomorrow when they might have a chance to make the needed repairs.

Although it is common for houses to be mounted on short pilings in SW Louisiana, the Sson pointed out the more recent structures atop 5 to 8 foot pilings in hopes that they will survive future storm surges from the Gulf. (We were both surprised, though, that we didn't see much in the way of cross bracing.)

In some cases, the lower level is serving in lieu of a patio or front porch!

Nothing made me more aware of how peoples' lives are uprooted by a violent storm than the basketball hoop still standing, lonely, along the highway.

More Pictures & Blog Commentary: In addition to the USGS before and after pictures linked at the beginning of this post, aerial coverage is available here; a blogger posted his own pictures, followed by comments from Cameron Parish locals.

Reflections of Prescott

2008-08-31T20:45:00.006-07:00

The day of the big Prescott Photo Walk, one of my ideas was to take pictures of Prescott sights as seen in display windows along our route. In a few cases, the idea worked. More or less. The Grill has strong enough lines that it overwhelms most of the paintings in the window of the gallery across the street.

What I call The Building With Green Awnings also stands out (as does the traffic. But then traffic has its own way of dominating the world).

What I saw in the window if I looked into it from the other direction. The Chase Bank all the way back to Batterman's.

Another stretch of Gurley, this time seen via the florist's window. Neat how that rose plopped right between Brian's Irish Pub and Esoji.

One of the more successful shots: Gurley looking to the east. Clean. No pushy cars hogging the limelight.

Gurley was easy; the reflecting windows and I were in the shade and had no competition from the sun. Capturing the Courthouse was another matter entirely. If you look into the depths of the Prescott Brewing Company, beyond those cars, you might see a wee bit of the Plaza. A wee bit of Whiskey Row, too.

The Courthouse bandstand is right next the steam table at Caffe Express in the St. Michael.

Ah, here it is. Peeking out between two themed Tshirts for the tourist from the desert who wants to declare that he/she visited Prescott.

A car window is as good a place as any to immortalize two of the Whiskey Row pubs. As for why this mirror sits in a shop on Montezuma (below), your guess is quite as good as mine.

It's only logical that a classy Prius would create an exclusive set of reflections...

...whereas I'm quite pleased with the "awning" that just happened to shelter the cars and bikes above. They were free and clear, unlike the bikes below, not a rally but miniatures parked in the window beneath the reflected post office building.

Turning the corner from Montezuma to Goodwin Street, I found the windows at the Galloping Goose were peachy-keen mirrors. Above, the view south on Montezuma, and, below, a rather spectacular way to observe the Arizona Pioneers Home up on the bluff.

Of my experiment, I'd say it was good clean fun -- but a far cry from Art.

Resale Row

2008-08-30T21:02:00.008-07:00

It's been a long time since I've been to the Fair Street Fry's, I guess.

Because the last time I looked at this big guy, he was advertising real estate. In fact, he had advertised real estate for as long as I can remember -- 20 years or so. Suddenly, it's used books, words far more likely to get my attention. Of course, times have changed. Used books are no doubt a lot easier to sell than houses in the current market. According to the young lady in the shop, it has been operating as a bookstore for some five months! And I thought that my antennae were in good shape.

Outside, throw-away titles 10 for one buck. Inside, shelves of books occupied four rooms of the little cottage, including one room devoted to religion (primarily LDS -- I believe that there had been an LDS bookstore in this building previously.) Did you notice the neat ship models in the corner? Here they are close-up (below). 50 cents at a yard sale, I was told.

At this point, I decided that the groceries could wait. What is evolving on the south side of Fair Street and environs is a thrift shopping mecca; the St. Vincent de Paul store is right next to the bookstore...

...complete to a lovely shrub covered with showy lavender blossoms at the entrance...

...and a clutter of donations to the back of the parking lot.

However, the interior has been completely de-cluttered and reorganized. Looks a lot more appealing, but my impression is that upscaling always brings higher prices. Thrifts are no exception. What is it about resale shops and baskets, by the way -- this store and NOAH both feature an extensive collection.

The final element in this thrift/used goods center -- the Once Again consignment shop. Unfortunately, I was running out of time and did not pay a visit.

And speaking of used, how about this well used fence bear and his companion. I spotted them as I was walking along Fair to get a better shot of the consignment shop. I'd guess the fellow below has been resting for a long, long time. I hope he has enjoyed great dreams.

Muffler Men: That appears to be what the giant figures such as our Fair Street guy were in the beginning. They are spotted all over the country, apparently, and there is, of course, a site where sightings are listed. The history of the Prescott statue is told here; apparently he is one of many that were originally featured at Phillips 66 gas stations; he (and his fellows) each held a rifle in the outstretched arms.

No photos please

2008-08-29T22:03:00.003-07:00

Can't figure this guy out. He runs a small shop on Whiskey Row that's chockablock full of hats. For the cowboy, the biker, the hiker, the golfer. You name it, he has a suitable hat. Even for Dr. Seuss' famous feline. You'd think he'd like publicity, exposure, getting the word out. And pictures on the Internet. But no way! Look at those signs plastered on the door. The act of photography somehow falls in the same category as soda pop (or beer) and sticky candy. The drinks & food I understand. But photos??? I can't believe that he offers totally custom, one-of-a-kind toppers that might potentially be copied by a spy serving a factory over in China. I guess one can't be too careful these days.

PS -- I did get some pictures inside last fall when the Aussie Bro was visiting. He bought himself a fine cheesecutter, which I'll show some day when I do my HATS post.

A Georgia O'Keefe moment

2008-08-28T21:35:00.011-07:00

OK, that's a bit pretentious on my part. But the fact is that my datura has blossomed five times in the past month and I managed to follow the action on one evening. Come watch one of these rather spectacular flowers unfold.

In the beginning, the action takes place over about a week to 10 days, with buds emerging and growing bigger -- here about 5 inches long...

...at which point the sepals begin to open. Call this Day 1.

The next day, Day 2, the blossom is beginning to emerge.

On the third day, the tightly wound flower-to-be is almost ready to open. When you spot it at this stage, the blossom will open the same evening -- starting at dusk, about 7 to 7:15 p.m. In the process, the plant will periodically emit puffs of a lovely fragrance. And, yes, the light is beginning to wane, as you can see in the next pictures.

The pinwheel begins to unwind.

The trumpet is about to begin opening.

Partially open.

The trumpet is beginning to take shape, but the light is fading. Unfortunately, it's difficult to get a good picture with flash working so close to the blossom, though PhotoShop did come to the rescue for the two images below.

Shortly after 7:30 p.m., the datura was about as open as it was going to be. My neighbor held a flashlight for this exposure, and then I quit for the night. Mosquitoes.

Apparently, at least one hawk moth or other night pollinator made an appearance, as the blossom was quite spent the following morning. But notice that if another critter were to show up, there's still an opportunity f0r more seeds to be fertilized. Not one of the five flowers lasted into the next day, a big disappointment...

...which will nevertheless result in a good supply of seeds. Above, a pod beginning to develop.

And, miracle of miracles, I discovered this new seedling yesterday. Perhaps my luck with the deadly datura has changed.

Official alley tour

2008-08-27T21:29:00.010-07:00

It took Saturday's Prescott Photo Walk to show me the many features of Whiskey Row Alley.

Would you believe that in my several years of wandering downtown Prescott, I've never done the back side of Whiskey Row? Certainly not because I eschew alleys; as the underwear of a city, alleys are usually full of Great Stuff that wows the picture taker in me. It turns out that this particular lane has been quite gussied up for the tourist crowds, no doubt due to the comparatively new city parking garage and the nearby mural.

Be that as it may, it is certainly photogenic, from the back brickwork and fire escapes of the Hotel St. Michael at the Gurley Street end...

...to the back entrances to the handful of saloons that remain in business on the Row, including Matt's, Moctezuma's or is it the Bird Cage?...

...and, of course, the Palace, which includes pleasant outdoor seating (for smokers, I presume).

These are some of the Old Tyme signs that decorate the Palace outdoor patio.

Galleries, too, make themselves known at the back door.

Of course, these old brick buildings date from days when air conditioning was a pipe dream at best; now many of the windows that once furnished needed fresh air are boarded or bricked up. I tend to consider this too bad; in my world, the more windows, the better.

There are two structures on the alley that are new since I moved into Prescott. One is the city parking garage...

...the other is the thoroughly augmented and very R.E.D. Old Firehouse Plaza. Don't you like the idea of formal gowns showcased on the second floor facing an alley? The plaza, which is at the Goodwin Street end of Whiskey Row Alley, has entry gates on both the street and the alley.

This big, busy power pole is the final punctuation mark putting an end to this segment of Saturday's walk.

Oh-oh! Prescott Style caught a not quite literate sign over at the high school.

Mysterious ants

2008-08-26T21:45:00.005-07:00

This summer I acquired a new ant hill near the road. I guess I'd call it medium sized though certainly of a small enough size that I've found it impossible to photograph the occupants. Then one day this past week, I noticed that I had suddenly had a second ant hill about 8-10 feet down the pike from the first. There was a great flurry of activity between the two mounds. Not very photographable, I fear, had I had presence of mind to try.

However, the next day I noticed that the entrance to ant hill #1 had been completely closed down (above) and all activity was taking place at #2 Ant Hill Place. Things were so quiet at #1 that a small snail moseyed across the grains of sand so laboriously excavated. All these changes certainly caused me to wonder what suddenly went wrong with the house where the colony had happily resided for several months.

Here is the new premise (above), with a large welcoming entrance complete with a small pebble to secure the hole. The excavated sand heap isn't nearly as high as at #1, but the ants appeared to be busy moving boulders.

That was the situation for a couple of days, but now there's a new wrinkle to the story. Today, a handful of ants was at work at the old place, where an entrance had been re-opened. Not a big hole, but big enough. I am puzzled. Left with questions for the ecologistt Sson or the soil scientist SIL. For instance, what would cause an entire colony to pick up stakes and move next door; couldn't be anything that I had done, though maybe all that to-ing and fro-ing involving the Pinzgauer might have had some effect. What are those guys who stayed behind up to; was there a revolution that they sat out? If a colony splits in two to accommodate growth, how do individual ants know which crowd to join? There you have it, my curiosity of the day.

The Pinzgauer arrives

2008-08-25T22:08:00.007-07:00

Saturday I arrived home from the Prescott Photo Walk to find this lovely parked at my house. The Sson's new back country toy had arrived from Iowa. A Pinzgauer, a military vehicle of choice in Mittel Europe and many other countries, originally made in Austria.

As yet, Sson had not driven said vehicle and it was time to give it a whirl. See all those controls? It's apparently a good enough off-roadster for the Swiss army to take almost anywhere in the Alps, for example.

And so, after he was comfortable enough, he invited me for a spin up the Thumb Butte Road. I have to say that we got plenty of respect on the road (below), though this is a much smaller, lighter vehicle than either the German Unimog or the American Hummer.

Before parking off the road, to give me a proper photo op, the Sson did suddenly pull off, circling over stumps and some pretty rough territory. Vehicle did fine, especially considering that its clearance is much higher than our civilian 4-wheelers, not to mention other serious features.

And, oh, what glorious shooting I could do through that high, wide and handsome flat front windshield. Assuming, of course, that it had been cleaned and no new splats had occurred.

Cool lacings!
According to Sson, there are fewer than a thousand of these neat trucks in the US, all made in the 70s and 80s. Though the machine is still made, now in the UK, the newer trucks don't meet our current American safety & other standards, though they're good enough for the picky folk in the European Community. Besides, they cost upwards of $100Gs+. The older vehicles basically qualify as collectibles; the Governator, for example, owns several.

I suspect the Sson has been lusting for a Pinz ever since he was stationed in Germany during the 70s. Though we have a nationally known Pinzgauer/Unimog dealer out Iron Springs Road, he was fortunate enough to find this particular vehicle on an eBay auction at a much better price.

Photo Walk Blogs: Several local bloggers have posted their pictures and reports of Saturday's big picture-taking extravaganza, including Rich, Sadira, Tombo and Dagny. Worth a visit to each!

Walking Prescott, 50-strong

2008-08-24T13:50:00.007-07:00

Prescott Photo Walk 2008. We gathered at the Sharlot Hall Museum grounds, 50 strong, to celebrate our town in picture. Only two hours to discover all manner of sights, from the museum grounds to the Whiskey Row alley to Courthouse Square. I was as fascinated with the photographers as I was with an area of town I've walked with my camera many, many times.

The Corn Mother -- from a different angle, one that I can only wist after at my age and condition!

Ditto for this close-up in the alley. Not to mention a dash up several inviting staircases, such as the cool, angular set at the city parking garage below. Did I mention that the day was clear, which means that it was Hot -- and the lighting Garish, not something one can easily PhotoShop away.

The crowd reached the courthouse. Here (above and below) are two opportunities to play Count the Cameras!

At the end of the trail, refreshment time at Pangea Bakery, inside with the air conditioning and outside with a breeze.

Even though it was time to relax, more than one last photo was taken -- after all, we had clouds finally forming after a week of hot and dry.

And here's Rich, who organized the entire affair. Many thanks to you, Rich. And just in case you'd like to see some wonderful pictures of Prescott, just hop over to Flickr. FYI, a similar event was happening in many cities around the world. Scott Kelby, a PhotoShop guru, was the mastermind.

The Box

2008-08-22T19:36:00.004-07:00

The Sson arrived. And. He's wonderfully like his dad, my LH. Much of the afternoon we spent talking about what ... oh, something like shoes & ships & sealing wax. You get the drift. One subject that came up was the book that my SIL plopped in front of me while I was in Alaska. He had purchased it, based Amazon's recommendation specifically to him. It was called, simply, The Box. Less simple, the subtitle: How the Shipping Container Made the World Smaller and the World Economy Bigger. The author: Marc Levinson.

These containers that I photographed on my way to the Anchorage airport (above) aren't really the Real Thing; after all, they're small enough for air transport. What Levinson talked about in his book was the super-sized, standardized sea-going container that brought about a mighty logistics revolution, behind my back and the backs of most American consumers. A stealth revolution that birthed WalMart, Costco and big box stores in general. Came close to destroying several unions as well as centuries-old ports around the world. Helped invent the Chinese economic miracle. Not to mention holding inflation at bay. Fascinating reading.

But the Sson, who had been well aware of these changing times, brought to my attention the further fate of the very same box -- as an architectural unit, for example. But then, he watches Home & Garden TV; I don't. And so I consulted The Google and found sites here, here and here among many others. He also talked about Pods, the new way to stash your stuff by bringing in a container which you fill & which the company then takes away to store Elsewhere until you're ready (if ever) to need your junque once again. Also, incidentally, an easier way to move your household by container train & truck from Town A in Maine to Suburb B in SoCal. (Reminding me, BTW, of the GrannyJ family move from Chicago to Arizona way back when. We had at least a small bookstore's worth of books, plus a personal machine shop as well as miscellaneous Science Stuff. The husband settled on hiring a semi trailer to be sent via piggy back. There was, after all, a railroad siding over in Kirkland.) Fascinating afternoon, wouldn't you say?

A shoot at Sharlot Hall...

2008-08-21T21:17:00.004-07:00

...museum, that is. Like everybody else, I say "Sharlot Hall," which is the name of the lady who founded the museum; somehow it sounds like the name of a place, but properly speaking, one should say "Sharlot Hall Museum."

The reason I was there this morning after breakfast was photographic. No, not the cool bit of old mining equipment above.

Nor the huge flywheel, made, I believe, from granite which most likely also came from an old mining or refining operation.

Not even this splendid decaying stump from a large tree that once shaded what is now the museum's parking lot. Nor the rusty corrugated roof next the museum grounds.

No, the photography in question was of these three gents in the rose garden (below), all members of the Arizona Rangers reenactment group. Purpose: illustration for a brochure to promote a new event, Prescott Heritage Days, scheduled later this year.

It was a beautiful day at the museum, and after the shoot, we admired the corn, now full of tassels. An odd landscaping plant, you might say.

However, the plants are there to honor the Corn Mother. Every year, maize is planted around the sculpture.

Restocking

2008-08-20T20:18:00.005-07:00

Thus far, since my return home, I hadn't been desperate for anything that required shopping. However, earlier this week I had word that the Sson was showing up tomorrow, yet, to pick up the Pinzgauer he had acquired on eBay from the Iowa survivalist. Huh? I guess there's a story there that I can possibly relate tomorrow night. In the meantime, a larder that will support GrannyJ for several days is a dud when it comes to her Sson. Off to Albertson's it was this afternoon.

I was replenishing my supply of instant hot chocolate when the Ovaltine shelf caught my eye. Oh, memories! If you're in my age group, you belong to one of two groups: those whose mothers said that Ovaltine was simply too expensive (the Depression, you know) and those mothers who gave into their (spoiled) kids' desire for a mysterious Little Orphan Annie secret code ring (or maybe the wonderful Little Orphan Annie circus), which required the inner seal of the Ovaltine container. As you might guess, I owned neither a ring nor the circus; a neighborhood girl whose father was a doctor did get a circus once -- which was a very disappointing cardboard punch-out affair. I think I learned my lesson about premiums at that point! FYI, Little Orphan Annie was on the radio right after school let out way back then.

Here's another display that deserves comment. To be specific, just how would you describe your generic version of a Triscuit (a trade name thoroughly covered by copyright, of course.) No, I would never have considered the term "woven", but I suppose that it is descriptive enough. More likely the fibers for both sorts of crackers are actually extruded back at the factory!

I bombed on one important item -- the AA battery charger, having left my little unit back in Alaska along with most of my pictures and a collapsible walking stick/monopod. Important that I have plenty of batteries ready for Saturday's Prescott Photo Walk. Tried, variously, Staples, Walgreen's & Albertsons. #1, it turns out that battery chargers are usually sold as a premium with batteries, not separately. The only set of four batteries plus a charger that I found was at Staples, but it was limited in use to special hi-tech cells. So I bought another set of four and borrowed a charger from the neighbor.

Do you get as frustrated as I at the distinctive mums that show up in the supermarket floral section? I've tried planting them, but never been successful. These are today's tease.

Out in front of the store, patio furniture was on sale. Huh? Since when have grocers been in the home furnishings biz? Can't answer that one, tho Albertsons as a smallish store has to display its merchandise atop the highest gondolas (the cheese and sandwich goody section, I believe) unlike Fry's, which has an extensive department. However, I must say that this "sale" is a modest affair compared to the "new" Banana Tree store down the pike which put up its liquidation sign (below) as soon as it opened.

Finally, I spotted the elephant car in the parking lot as I waited for my ride home with the supplies. Maybe a little bit too smiley, but a nice change from all those serious cars in any event.