Since Mike and I each visited our families earlier this year and had no other plans for Christmas Day, we decided to take our cameras and my Jeep out into the desert north of Wickenburg to explore a few roads we’d never been on. The day was crystal clear with deep blue skies and only a scattering of high cirrus clouds. We left midday, right after lunch. We’d explore, from the ground, places I’d flown over countless times by helicopter.

[A side note here: it's really unfortunate that Wickenburg's economy can't support a younger, more vibrant population. The town is absolutely surrounded by opportunities for outdoor activities -- hiking, Jeeping, mountain biking, exploring ruins, digging for gold, etc. The writers at wickenburg-az.com have covered many possibilities. Although some of the retirees that dominate Wickenburg's winter population do occasionally climb into ATVs and get out to explore, the vast majority have no interest. As a result, the desert around Wickenburg remains a vast untapped resource for recreation.]

I do want to mention that all of the photos in this blog post are straight out of the camera — no Photoshopping at all. I just threw this post together on my laptop. So if colors look weird — especially that extra blue sky! — it’s natural — at least as far as my Nikon D80 thinks.

Getting Started

Our journey started on Rincon Road, right off of Highway 89/30. It’s a right hand turn not far from the second roundabout if you’re coming from the south. The road takes you past some pasture and a roping facility, then crosses the Hassayampa River, which is usually dry there. The pavement ends and starts and ends multiple times. You’ll cross the river twice. After the second crossing, you’ll find yourself at the site of an old manganese mine. There’s a big parking area there and it’s often filled with trucks pulling trailers for ATVs or horses. Yesterday, there were two camps set up, looking out over the riverbed.

We made a sharp left to continue along Rincon Road. It climbs out of the river area into the low mountains northwest of town. At an obvious intersection, we made a right to continue on Rincon. This short piece of road is extremely rough but offers outstanding views back toward Wickenburg, as well as lots of typical Sonoran desert vegetation. And rocks — did I mention the rocks?

As we continued along this piece of road, we passed a pickup truck with a cap on top. A man was standing, shirtless, at the back. He appeared to be washing his hands. A peek inside the truck cap revealed a mattress on a platform with various supplies under it. It was clear that this was the man’s “camper.” Not everyone needs a 35-foot fifth wheel for living in the desert.

After another quick photo stop, we joined Scenic Loop and headed north along its maintained dirt surface. This was familiar territory for us, so we didn’t remain on it long. Instead, when the road descended into a wash and turned to the east, we turned left into the wash and followed the sandy road northwest. According to our maps, this was scenic loop and the road we knew as Scenic Loop was actually called Stanton Hall Road. As if road names make a difference out there — none of the roads are marked and few people using the roads know their names.

We took our time along the drive, making a few stops along the way. At one point, we turned right off the main road and climbed up a side road covered with loose gravel. The road was steep and I think this is the only place where 4WD may have been required on the trip. Although we both expected the road to end, it continued past the top of the hill toward the east. We decided to turn back and stay on our original path.

The Photo Spots

I won’t bore you with the turn by turn details beyond this point — partly because I can’t remember every single turn we made as we wound down one dirt road after another, through washes, up steep grades, and around obstacles. I was glad we were in a Jeep and not something with a wider wheelbase. For most of the time, it was slow going. We didn’t stop many times for photos, on the first half of the trip because there wasn’t much of interest to photograph.

There were some exceptions, of course. One was Sand Mill, site of windmill, cattle tanks, and corral. I have a thing about windmills and did my usual study of this one. Unfortunately, it was broken, although I do think it could be repaired. What I found more interesting was the welded iron water tank behind it and the fencing around the corral — which was in unusually good shape. There had been two cows standing in the area when we drove up, but they ran off when we stopped. Cows out in the open range are funny like that. No matter how hard you try to not spook them, they get spooked anyway.

Anyway, here are three portrait view shots I took in the area. (Unlike a lot of amateur photographers, I’m not afraid to turn my cameral sideways.) These are a little more “artsy” than scenic. It was fun to play with the textures and patterns.

Later on, near a place called Brick Tank, I managed to get this shot of two cows. They stood there for about two minutes just staring at us as I rolled the Jeep into position and framed this shot. Then, just as I pushed down on the shutter, the smaller one (on the left) turned her head and ran off. The other followed, of course.

We also passed a herd of about eight mule deer along the way. I stopped while Mike tried to get some photos. They weren’t quite close enough for our lenses — we hadn’t brought along my 70-300mm zoom. Here’s my only shot, which I admit isn’t very good. I cropped it here.

As we reached Stanton, we found the road blocked by a fence and a “No Trespassing” sign. This wasn’t good news; if we had to go back to find another route, it could have easily taken another hour to get to the same spot. Fortunately, two-track roads led around the fence, dumping us right outside the ghost town of Stanton on Stanton Road.

Stanton is owned by the Lost Dutchmen Mining Association (LDMA). It’s always had a caretaker on duty, so the few buildings that remain of the original town — stage stop, hotel, and opera house — still stand. The LDMA offers campsites for its members. On Christmas Day, the place was crammed with RVs of all kinds, from the crappiest conversion van you could imagine to a 35-foot Cameo that looked very new. These folks spend their time panning for gold, which is kind of cool. I say “kind of” because it’s a ton of work and not the easiest way to make money. But every once in a while, someone finds a gold nugget big enough to keep everyone else looking. And it’s nice to be able to spend so much time outdoors with folks who share the same interest.

The Mountainous Portion of the Trip

Stanton Road meets up with Mina Road right there and that’s where we headed to start the second part of the trip — the part I wanted to do. I’d seen a Jeep road up in the Weaver Mountains that I wanted to check out. It wasn’t far from Stanton on the back road that went from Stanton to Yarnell: Mina Road.

Our landmark was a switchback to the left in the road. The road we wanted would go straight instead of making that left turn. But sure enough, it was blocked off with a fence and a “No Trespassing” sign. We made a U-turn and went back a short distance to another road that looked as if it might parallel the one we wanted. According to my GPS and the topo maps we’d brought along, the road we were on ended. But those maps are from the 1980s, before folks with ATVs and gold fever started exploring the area. We explored the road and its side roads until we found the place it met up with the road we wanted, beyond that private property.

We drove across Antelope Creek, which still running as a small stream with a mix of spring water and runoff from snow and rain at higher elevations the previous week. I threw the Jeep into 4WD and powered up a steep, narrow Jeep trail with lots of loose rock. When I leveled out and could see the road beyond, I realized that I just wasn’t prepared to go any farther. The road was very narrow, very steep, and covered with very loose rock. I was tired from almost 2 hours of driving on back roads. I’d had enough rough road exploring.

We got out for a while to take photographs in the area. There was a lot of slate-like rock, standing straight up. Much of the rock was covered with orange and yellow lichen. It made an interesting contrast to the green and brown of the desert, the blue of the sky, and the deep shadows cast by late afternoon sun. The light hadn’t gotten “good” yet, but it wasn’t bad — probably because of its low winter angle.

We also walked down to Antelope Creek. It was great to see so much water flowing in the desert. I knew that downstream, the flow dried up before it even reached Stanton. I tried to get some photos that showed reflections in pools of relatively smooth water. The water, in some places, was about two feet deep. Although Jack the Dog drank some of it without side effect, I wouldn’t think of drinking it without treating it first; just too much open range and wildlife in the area. (That’s why its best to bring your own water, even if you know you might find some along the way.)

The Way Back

We returned to Mina Road and headed back toward Wickenburg. But rather than take the fast way — Stanton Road to Route 89 — we turned left on Stanton Road and headed back on more dirt roads.

But first, we stopped at one of the few buildings that remain at Octave, another ghost town. The afternoon sun had drifted down quite low when we arrived and I think I got some of my best photos of the day. I have a thing about photographing abandoned buildings, and even though this was a small one, it kept me busy for a good 20 minutes. This is one of my favorite shots.

We also stopped alongside the road where the boulder-and-saguaro-strewn side of Rich Hill was illuminated by the low-lying sun. As you look at this photo, remember that each cactus stands at least 15 feet tall. Really gives you an idea of how big the boulders are, no? The horizontal version of this photo will be my desktop pattern.

We turned south toward Wickenburg a while later. Again, I can’t remember where we turned; you’ll need to check my GPS track log to see. The following 90 minutes was spent exploring various ways to get through the desert and back to pavement near Scenic Loop or Rincon Road. We made a lot of “wrong” turns. In looking at our track and knowing the desert from previous non-GPS-assisted trips, I know we didn’t take the best path. But it was a new path, and that’s all that really mattered.

We joined back up with Scenic Loop near Sand Mill and retraced our steps. By then, the light was very low and the mountains were glowing copper colored. We made one more side trip in search of a good spot to take some final photos and found ourselves quite close to the Hassayampa River on a short cliff. Although Mike took some shots, I didn’t like anything I saw through the lens.

We backtracked all the way back to 89/93, drove through town, and headed home. It was a great way to spend Christmas Day.

Trace Our Treads

If you’re interested in following our route, I offer my Garmin GPX track log file for you to load into your GPS. Once you load the track log into your GPS, you can go to the center of town in Wickenburg to pick up the track and follow it. For best results, you’ll want a GPS that you can load topographic maps on; you’ll see that many (but not all) of the dirt roads we followed appear on the Garmin MapSource maps — or standard USGS topographical maps. You’ll also see where we made wrong turns and hit dead ends. You might want to review the track log before following it blindly; here it is on EveryTrail.com.

You’ll also need a vehicle with high clearance and a relatively narrow wheelbase. Leave the Hummer or big pickup truck home. You’ll do better with a Jeep or quad or some other ATV. Although we threw the Jeep into 4WD a few times, I don’t think we actually needed it more than once or twice. In this area, I always recommend using 4WD when driving in deep sand (especially along the Hassayampa River, which is notorious for quicksand).

And I know I don’t have to tell you to bring water, emergency gear, etc., right? Our route travelled to some pretty remote areas of the desert. If we had a breakdown, it would have been a long walk to help.

I was very disappointed with my photo of the Christmas Boats the other day. Let’s face it — I took the shot from the window of my hotel room. I set the camera on the window sill, which is very close to the ground, and I let the self-timer press the shutter so there wouldn’t be any shutter shake. The framing is awful and the exposure is only so-so. It really didn’t capture the mood here, where the boats really bring out the Christmas spirit — even in folks like me.

So tonight I took the camera with me for a walk around the north side of the harbor. There were benches along the way that I could set the camera down on. I took about 40 shots and threw away 20 of them. This was one of the best.

By the way, that bright point of light in the sky is Venus.

My CoolPix apparently has a night scenery setting. I gave it a try. It seems to play around with the light a bit; 100% magnification on the 10 megapixel images shows some weirdness around the parking lot lights in the distance. I’m wondering how my Nikon D80 would have handled it. Shot properly from a tripod with a cable release, of course.

Just a quick post to berate myself for not bringing my “good camera” and tripod with me to Ventura, CA this week and give folks a glimpse of the shot I could have gotten….

I’m in Ventura on business and my clients have kindly put me up in the Holiday Inn Express on Ventura Harbor. My room is huge with a 15-foot ceiling and prow windows looking out over the harbor. There’s also a kitchen and living room area that’s nothing to complain about. The only thing I miss is the Jacuzzi tub that was in my room on my last stay; this time, my bathroom is handicap accessible and has a shower stall big enough to drive a wheelchair into but no tub. (Just another excuse to come do more work out here.)

Anyway, out my window is the harbor and quite a few of the boats are decorated for the holidays. Lots of strings of lights up on sailboat masts. Plenty of other boats lighted, too. In fact, there are probably more lights on the boats here than on houses in Wickenburg.

Really helps spread the holiday season to all.

And makes me want to live on a boat.

I took this photo using the self-timer while setting my little Nikon CoolPix on the outside of my window. It was my workaround for not having a cable release or tripod.

I didn’t bring my Nikon D80 or tripod on this trip because I didn’t want distractions. I’ve got a tough work schedule and need to work every night and first thing every morning. The only rest I get is at meals — and they keep taking me out to eat. No walks, no sightseeing.

But next time, to hell with it. I’ll bring the camera. Scenes like this are too good to miss — or at least they would be if I had the right equipment to get a good shot. I learned my lesson. Again.

It was cold on Christmas morning. 17°F outside and 53°F inside.

The heater was running at full blast, but it couldn’t keep up with the cold coming in through the cracks and crevices in the building’s joints. The blinds couldn’t keep the cold air from permeating though the single-pane windows. The plywood floor with its foam insulation radiated cold from the space beneath the building.

Up on the loft, it was nice and toasty. But we couldn’t stay up there all day.

I turned on the oven, partially to help out the heater and partially to warm up some apple pie for breakfast. The batteries had 11.7 volts stored, so I used my one-cup electric coffee maker to brew a cup of coffee. I heated Alex’s scrambled eggs on the heater.

It was a typical winter morning at Howard Mesa.

But it was also Christmas.

After breakfast, we started making our calls to family on the right coast. Mike called his mom, but was disconnected three times. His Razr phone doesn’t seem to get as strong a connection as my Treo. So he used the Treo.

I called my mother’s house in Florida where my mom, stepfather, sister, brother, and sister-in-law had gathered for the holiday. I talked to my mom, who thanked me for the Shark steamer I’d sent her. Then I talked to my stepdad, who was extremely excited about the Oregon Scientific weather station I’d sent him. Finally, I talked to my sister, who said she couldn’t wait to try out the iPod I’d sent her. I explained that she needed to copy the songs to her computer so she could put them on the iPod and yes, she would have to plug the iPod into her computer to charge it.

Mike made a few more calls: his brother, his sister, his uncle. He got a few more: his niece, his cousin.

Then we settled down to open the few presents we’d brought with us to Howard Mesa. I got a copy of Microsoft Flight Simulator and a new pair of slippers from my brother and sister-in-law. Both were on wish lists I’d shared with my family. (My sister ordered my presents on Christmas Day.) Mike got an aviation communications training software program from me. I suspect that there might be a few boxes on our doorsteps at home.

Outside, the wind started up. We could hear it whistling around the building. My 13-knot windsock spent most of the day stuck straight out. A thick cloud that had shrouded the San Francisco Peaks right after sunrise finally broke free and drifted off to the east. The sky was perfectly clear, the sun was bright. Although the temperature outside never topped 34°F, it got up to 76° in the cabin.

We stayed inside all day. I read the instrument training materials I’d brought along with me. I’m going for my instrument rating next month and have begun studying. For a while, Mike and I studied the Low Altitude En Route charts, trying to figure out what the heck all those symbols and numbers meant. (I know a lot more about those charts now than I knew last week.) Mike read Smithsonian magazine, which he’d brought along with him.

I made pot pies for lunch — another reason to use the oven. I also got dinner started. I made braised leg of lamb, which would simmer all day. The shed smelled very good.

Near the end of the day, Mike commented that it was the first time he’d spent a whole day relaxing in a very long time.

Dinner was good (if I do say so myself). We ate right after sunset. The temperature outside dropped rapidly once the sun was gone and began to dip inside, too. We played Scrabble before calling it a night. It was 12°F outside when we called it a night.

We stayed inside.

I woke early Tuesday morning with a bright light in my face. It was the light of the full moon.

A Winter Morning at Howard Mesa

We sleep on a loft in the camping shed. There’s a wall to wall carpet up there with a mattress on top and a pair of very short night tables, one on each side. We make the bed just like we make our bed at home: with sheets and blankets and a cosy comforter. Our heads are right beneath a window that looks out on my favorite view: northwest toward Mount Trumbull.

We usually sleep with the blinds open so we can look out at the night sky if we happen to wake in the middle of the night. On a moonless night, its very dark outside, with just a few pinpoints of light representing far-off ranches. The sky, of course, is full of stars and the glow of the milky way on most moonless nights. If it’s cloudy, we can see the reflection of the lights of Las Vegas, at least 100 miles away, on the cloud bottoms out to the west.

But the moon yesterday morning was so bright that I had to shut the blinds to get another hour of sleep.

It was cold in the shed: in the 50s. The heat was on and set to 70° but the shed, which is insulated, was no match for the 27° cold outside. I changed from my pajamas to a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Since the power level was a bit low, I made my coffee with a stovetop percolator. I heated up Alex the Bird’s scrambled eggs — which I’d made in the microwave at home before coming to Howard Mesa — in a piece of aluminum foil on top of the heater. I let Jack the Dog out and then back in. With the critters fed and Mike still up in bed, I spent some time working on a blog entry.

Toilet Woes

[Note: The following is a somewhat graphic description of a sanitary problem we're having at the shed. If you're easily offended by discussions of toilet operations, please skip this section.]

The toilet was not working properly. The shed has an RV toilet, which we installed because it would use less water.

Now most folks reading this probably know how a standard toilet works. There’s a fixture with a seat and a bowl and a tank on back (or up high). You do your business in the bowl and then use a handle or a pull-cord to flush. The water in the tank rushes into the bowl, flushing the bowl’s contents down the drain and filling the bowl with fresh water. Pretty basic stuff.

An RV toilet works a bit differently. There’s no tank of water. Instead, there’s a foot or hand pedal that lets you put water from your water source into the bowl. You do your business and then use the pedal to open the bottom of the bowl so the contents drop out. Clean water swooshes around the bowl to clean it a bit, but it goes down the drain, too. So the bowl is usually pretty empty between uses. The benefit of this system for an RV — or cabin where you have to haul your own water — is that you can use as much (or as little) water as you like to take care of business.

The problem with the toilet was that the valve to let water into the bowl wasn’t working. You’d push the foot pedal and the bottom would open to drop the bowl contents into the septic system, but no water would rush in to clean the bowl, etc. We used what we called “manual flush” — we kept a bucket of clean water in the bathroom and used that to add and flush water down the drain after using the toilet. Sanitation was not impaired; the bathroom was still clean and the toilet was still flushed.

And the rest of the plumbing worked fine — right down to the water heater.

We figured that the toilet’s valve had water in it that had frozen, thus preventing the flow of water. But the shed had been above freezing for close to a full day, so the chances of it still being frozen were minimal.

After breakfast, Mike worked on the problem. He removed the valve. The plastic pipe had bulged and cracked under stress where water had frozen in it. The valve was broken.

It was the day before Christmas, on a Monday. We worked the phones, using our Flagstaff phone book. The one place that was likely to have the part was closed. No other place that was open had the part.

Mike put the bad valve back on so the pedal would work. (I was not interested in reaching behind the bottom of the toilet to manually twist and untwist the valve control after using the facilities.) And we realized that we’d be on manual flush for the rest of our stay.

It seems to me that every time we come up here, something isn’t working right. Last time was the heater — Mike had to remove a mouse nest from it before it would work. On other visits, it was the water heater not relighting automatically when it should, the water pump cutting out in the middle of a shower, or cracked pipes.

It would be nice to come up here and have everything working right at the same time.

Flagstaff

We spent a good portion of the day in Flagstaff, the nearest city to Howard Mesa.

Flagstaff is a great town, with a wonderful mix of people of different ages and nationalities and backgrounds. It’s a melting pot where young and old get together to steer economic growth. So you’ll find all kinds of businesses there, from hippie gift shops smelling of incense to book shops to sporting goods shops to natural food stores. It also has all the standard big box stores, including Home Depot, Wal-Mart, Target, and Sam’s Club.

Yesterday, we went into Flagstaff for lunch, to walk around the historic downtown area, and to pick up a few odd things we needed. There was quite a bit of snow on the ground, but it had been plowed or shoveled off the roads and sidewalks, leaving scattered ice and some very impressive icicles hanging from rooflines. Traffic was lighter than usual — probably because NAU was between semesters and most of the students had gone home. We still had some trouble finding a parking spot downtown, but soon were parked on Humphrey’s.

There was a Japanese restaurant on Route 66, right around the corner, that I wanted to try. When we got there, it was closed.

We walked around town. There was a Thai restaurant at the Hotel Monte Vista. I like Thai food, but every time we’d looked into the place at lunchtime, it was empty. On that day, there were about a half dozen people inside at noon. We decided to give it a try.

Good choice. The menu was extensive, the service was friendly, and the food was served good and hot. We shared a hot pot of soup, some spring rolls, and an order of short ribs. The ribs were good, but when the guy next to me got his curry, I decided I’d try that next time. I really like curry. Meanwhile, the place filled up. It wasn’t until we left that I realized the place was under new management.

We went into Babbitt’s and a few of the other downtown shops. They were all winding down from the Christmas shopping rush. There were other shoppers, but not many.

Wal-Mart and Beyond

Mike decided that there might be a chance of finding the toilet valve at Wal-Mart, since some Wal-Mart stores stock RV parts and supplies. He talked me into going into Wal-Mart with him. The day before Christmas.

We parked on the side near the garden shop area, which was full of Christmas stuff. One step inside and my stress level rose considerably.

I’ve been in Wal-Marts before, but the one in Flag has to be the worst. It’s an older store, much smaller than the Super Wal-Marts going up all over the country. To fit all that merchandise in the store, they have very tall shelves on rather narrow aisles. The result is claustrophobic. The store was full of last-minute shoppers looking for crap from China to give as gifts or to decorate their homes.

We found the RV Accessories aisle and realized after a moment that they wouldn’t have the part we needed. I immediately went into escape mode, plotting my way out of the store with the least interaction with anyone else. Mike, on the other hand, wanted to get all the items on our little list there: a pencil sharpener, RV antifreeze (to fill drain traps when we leave), distilled water (for our solar setup’s batteries), 9v battery (for our smoke/carbon monoxide detector), hand sanitizer. That would have us running all over the store, which was not a viable option for me. So when he found the antifreeze not far from the RV Accessories, I talked him into buying just that and stopping at a supermarket for the rest.

I endured the recorded sound of dogs barking to the tune of Jingle Bells at the check out area before we emerged back into the sunshine.

We got back into the truck and drove to the nearby Basha’s Supermarket. We got everything on our list there, then headed back to Howard Mesa.

Afternoon and Evening at the Shed

Back at the shed, it was nice and toasty. The outside temperature had risen to the 40s but the sun was very strong, beating on the front of the shed and coming through the front windows. It was in the 70s in the shed. The wind was blowing lightly outside — not enough to find the cracks around the windows and the rest of the structure.

We each took good, hot showers and changed into comfortable lounging clothes. I made up a little cheese platter and opened a bottle of wine. We relaxed and read and studied IFR charts.

We each opened a present. I got a bottle of absinthe from Mike. Mike got a watch-winder cabinet from me. We had three presents left to open: two for me and one for him. I’m pretty certain there’s a small pile of presents on my doorstep at home.

Mike made some pasta for dinner. I was still full from lunch and our snack, so I didn’t eat much.

For our evening entertainment, we tried to play a DVD we’d brought along. My MacBook Pro’s CD/DVD drive is dead — I discovered that just the other day and will be sending it back to Apple for repair next week. So Mike had brought his Dell laptop. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem able to play a DVD either.

So we played dominos and listened to music.

Now this might seem boring to you. I won’t lie and say it’s exciting. What I will say, however, is that it’s restful. Our place is small and far from neighbors and paved roads. No one drives by. The only sound is the wind and an occasional coyote howl.

The only thing that could make this a nicer place to spend Christmas eve is a fireplace with a real yule log burning in it.

And a fully working toilet.

We closed up the shed and headed out to the Grand Canyon at around 4 PM. We’d wanted to get an earlier start to do some hiking along the rim, but it had taken too long to troubleshoot and fix our water problem.

I should mention here that last year when we came to Howard Mesa for Christmas, the water pipes were broken. Mike spent the entire first day and half of the second day finding and repairing broken pipes. Since then, we’ve replaced the PVC with copper. But it seems like there’s always something to fix up here. It’s part of the place’s charm, I guess. Mike doesn’t seem to mind. And in my mind, nothing could be as bad as the mouse problem we’d had, which forced me to start every visit here with a 2-hour cleaning job.

The Grand Canyon is a 40-minute drive from our place. About 1/3 of that time is spent just driving the five miles from our place to pavement. (Not an easy task, as there was more mud and the pickup did a lot of fishtailing on certain parts of the road.) The rest is on SR 64, a two-lane road that stretches from Williams, AZ to the Grand Canyon. The speed limit on the road is 65 MPH for most of its distance, but because there’s only one lane in each direction for most of the way, it’s pretty common to get caught behind slower vehicles. They added some passing lanes clearly marked with signs that say, “Keep right except to pass,” but since everyone is more important than everyone else, no one moves over to the right. So you basically have to pass on the right.

We were heading toward the canyon at about the same time someone who had left Phoenix earlier in the day for a leisurely drive up there would be arriving, so there was a surprising number of people on the road.

Inside the park, we got a parking spot in the small lot right near El Tovar, where we’d be eating dinner with friends. The hotel is right on the Rim, so we spent some time out on the pathway there, looking into the canyon as the sun was dipping ever lower into the southwestern sky. I played around with my fisheye lens — this was the first time I’d had a chance to use it at the Canyon — and got an interesting shot that includes the snow all around on the Rim.

It was cold. There wasn’t much wind, but the breeze contributed some wind chill to the situation. I don’t own a good winter coat anymore — I’d rather avoid the cold than buy special clothing for it — so I didn’t want to spend much time outdoors.

We went into Hopi House for a short while. This used to be one of the nicer gift shops at the Canyon, a place where everything was high quality. Somewhere along the line, Xanterra (which runs the park concession) had decided to add the kind of tourist crap you can find in most other gift shops there, especially t-shirts, hats, and sweatshirts that say “Grand Canyon” on them and a lot of fake Indian-style dolls, statues, rugs, etc. The good stuff — including a wonderful selection of Native American handmade jewelry — is still in the gallery upstairs, and we made the climb to see it all.

Afterwards, we came out for another peek into the canyon and were rewarded with a view of the newly risen full moon inching into the sky over the north rim. I snapped a few photos of it, but was too cold (or lazy?) to set up my tripod and do it properly, so the shots I took with my 200mm lens aren’t as clear as they could be.

We met our friends inside the hotel. We were booked for the private dining room just to the left of the hostess desk at the restaurant entrance. We’d eaten there the previous year for Christmas Eve. It had been just six of us last year: Mike, me, our two friends, and his parents. A quiet dinner. This year there were ten of us; our friends had invited six of their friends. The rectangular table in the small room was filled to capacity.

Our waiter was excellent. Extremely professional, full of advice, attentive to most details. The food was very good, too — although not as good as I remember from our early days visiting El Tovar 20 or so years ago. (I know: things change.) Conversation was relatively interesting, too. It was a nice meal. The only thing that marred it was when it was time to pay the bill; certain members of the party didn’t chip in their fair share and Mike and I and our friends wound up making up the difference, paying about three times as much as some other members of our party. I know we drank, but we didn’t drink that much.

After stopping for some photos inside the hotel lobby where a tall Christmas tree stretched up to the second floor, we stepped outside and walked back to the Rim. The moonlight was shining brightly down into the canyon, casting shadows that defined the rock walls. It was a beautiful scene, but one my camera couldn’t seem to capture properly. (I really need to play around a bit more with the bracketing feature.)

I’ve been at the Grand Canyon many times at night. If there’s no moon, you can look down into the canyon from the Rim and not see a single detail at all. It’s like a black abyss that could be a hundred miles deep. But add some moonlight and you get a completely different picture. This is part of what makes the Canyon such a special place. Different lighting conditions can completely change the experience.

Since I was out there with my tripod, I took a few moments to photograph Hopi House and El Tovar. Hopi House was especially festive with its [electric] luminarias.

It was after 9:30 PM and it wasn’t very cold at all. The wind had died down and the air was crisp and dry. There wasn’t anyone around except us. That made good conditions for taking these photos. They create the illusion that the historic buildings along the Rim are private, special places. In reality, during the day, these places are mobbed with tourists and it would be nearly impossible to photograph them without including a few people in each shot.

We drove back to Howard Mesa in the full moonlight. There were few cars on the road.

As I opened the gate on our driveway, I noted that all the mud was frozen solid.

It was warm and cosy inside the camping shed and even more so under the covers in bed.

We drove up to our camping shed at Howard Mesa this morning. Just me, Mike, Alex the Bird, and Jack the dog. We left the horses home. It’s getting mighty cold up north these days and I really didn’t think it was fair to the horses to make them stand outside with no shelter when nighttime temperatures were dipping into the teens. The problem of shelter becomes even more serious when there’s a chance of snow for Tuesday.

The ride was long and uneventful. We made two stops: the Ace hardware store in Chino Valley for a gasket and some pipe insulation and the Safeway in Chino Valley for lattes and discounted fuel for Mike’s truck.

Mt. Humphreys and the San Francisco Peaks had a nice thick cap of snow. The air was crystal clear and we could see the mountains when we were still in Prescott — at least 50 miles away. It looked amazing.

When we got on I-40 west of Williams, there was snow on the ground. Well, on the north side of hills, trees, and other shade-producing structures. Any area exposed to the sun was free of snow. But there was a considerable amount in the shady area. We started speculating on whether there would be snow on the ground at our place.

I took some video along the way, with the usual idea of making a little DVD to send the family. You know: how we spent Christmas off the grid. I have quite a library of video tapes I’ll probably never show to anyone.

When we got to Howard Mesa, there was some snow on the ground and on the road. It was about noon and the sun was bright and warm. The outside temperature was about 40°F. The snow was melting into the dirt below it, making the road slick wherever the gravel-like cinders had been crushed or worn away. The truck had one brief skidding incident before Mike slowed down.

Up on top of the mesa at our place, it was as deserted as usual. I got out to unlock the gate, coating the bottoms of my shoes with gooey mud and gravel. Mike parked up by the shed so we wouldn’t have to walk far with all the stuff we’d brought up. (For some reason, we brought a ton of stuff with us — I think the Christmas presents took up most of the space.) Then we went inside the shed to survey the situation.

For years, we suffered with mice, both in our camper and later, in the camping shed. It took us the best part of two years to find all the holes they were using to get into the walls and close them up. I’m still amazed when we come in after being away for a month or two and there aren’t any mouse droppings. There were none today, either.

But there was ice. We have a 5-gallon water jug we keep on a plastic holder with a spout. The water bottle was frozen almost solid. We had to carry it outside into the sun to get the defrost cycle going. The dish soap was frozen and so was the 409 cleaner.

Mike had some small problems getting the heater going, but it was soon filling the place with warm air. I started up the gas fridge and moved everything from the cooler into it. It was already cold in there, which would save some energy anyway. Then I started up the oven and threw in a frozen pie. When it’s cold up here, we bake a lot.

The big problem seemed to be the water pump. At first, it wouldn’t work at all. Mike pulled away the wall so he could check it out and the warm air from the room slipped into the small space. He was in the process of testing it with some electric testing equipment when it suddenly went on. Unfortunately, all the pipes in the area seemed to be frozen so the water wouldn’t flow. We’d brought our gas bottle heater and Mike set it up to throw heat on the whole area. After a while, the pump started working better and soon we had water in the sinks and shower. The plastic hosing to the toilet is frozen, though, so it’ll be a while before the water gets in there. We’ve got a bucket full of water for manual flushing.

As I type this, Mike is wrapping the 4-foot hose from our water tank to the shed with heat trace tape. We’re hoping it keeps the hose and valves from freezing overnight so we’ll have running water all night long and — more important — in the morning when we get up.

I went out for a while and took some photos. It’s so perfectly clear and beautiful outside, with just enough snow to remind you that it’s winter. There’s just a slight breeze blowing; if it picks up it’ll get very cold outside.

Tonight we’re meeting some friends for a big dinner at El Tovar in Grand Canyon National Park. Last year, we had a party of six in the private dining room on Christmas Eve. This year, it’s a party of ten in the same room a day earlier.

The moon is full tonight and I’m bringing my tripod along. I’m hoping the wind stays calm so we can stop at Mather Point for some moonlight photos of the canyon.

More later…

Since everyone seems to be sharing their Christmas animal photos, I thought I’d share mine:

And yes, Cherokee is sticking his tongue out.

As I type this quick blog entry, I’m waiting for my printer to spit out all five pages of the 5th customs form I’ve prepared today. I’m doing all this on the USPS Web site, which is workable but not very well designed. For some reason, it takes at least a minute for my printer to process each page of the form, which only takes up 1/2 a page. I’m cutting off 1/2 sheet for each of the 5 pages. That’s 30 half pages of junk paper for the 6 forms I’m creating.

How wasteful. But I’m sure I’ll wind up using it for scrap paper.

I’ve finally gotten around to preparing the next 6 care packages. I would have prepared all 8 that I needed to make my self-imposed number of 10, but AnySoldier.com will only let me have 2 addresses a day and I’m still short two. Why the limit? Apparently slime ball marketers were sending junk mail to our men and women in the armed forces. I know they want mail, but no one wants junk mail.

The packages are full of yummy goodies (beside my homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies) and personal hygiene items requested specifically by the units. Since I spent a bit more than I’d expected to on package contents, my husband kindly chipped in for the postage.

Oddly enough, taking care of the postage and customs forms is more time consuming than packing the boxes and inserting personalized notes of thanks.

It’s really a shame, since I think a lot more people would send items to the troops if they didn’t have such a time-consuming hassle with customs forms.

But I’m almost done. Just one more 5-page form to prepare and print.

Then two more packages this week and I’ve finished my commitment — at least for the holidays. I’m thinking of committing to a package a month until the war is over.

I don’t have relatives or even friends fighting overseas. But I still know they’re there. And I still care.

Do you?

There will be no nativity scene in the United State Congress, this year!

The Supreme Court has ruled that there cannot be a nativity scene in the United States capital this Christmas season.

This isn’t for any religious reason; they simply have not been able to find three wise men and a virgin in the nation’s capitol.

There was no problem, however, finding enough asses to fill the stable.

Those of you who follow this blog may have read my most recent “Support Our Troops” post. It starts off with a rant about people who think they’re supporting the troops by taking a minute to send a free card to a random soldier, then provides information on how you can send members of our armed forces things they can really use.

At the time, I vowed to send 10 care packages this month. Today I sent my first two.

I used the lists from the first two AnySoldier.com representatives to buy the items to send. I went to two stores and spent about $100 on everything from lip balm to bed sheets.

Then I made my famous oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I packed two saved take-out packages — the kind my husband is always telling me not to save — with cookies.

I was delayed in putting it all together by my trip to Las Vegas, which was extended due to mechanical problems.

Yesterday, I was caught up in work — imagine that! Today, I had some spare time and finally put the first two packages together.

The first, to an army guy in Iraq, was mostly foodstuff, although he did get a set of twin sheets. The Priority Mail flat rate box weighted in at just over 7 lbs. The second, to a navy gal in the Gulf, was a combination of stationery items and personal hygiene items. That flat rate box weighed in at just under 7 lbs. (Cotton balls don’t weigh much.) Each box cost $8.95 to ship because of the flat rate priority mail to a U.S. (FPO and APO) address. I don’t think that was a bad deal. I just hope their contents reach the addressees before Christmas.

I printed postage and customs forms on the USPS Web site. It took me about 20 minutes for the first form and only 5 for the second. (I summarized box contents.) Then it took another 20 minutes at the post office.

I’ve decided that I’m going to ship the remaining 8 boxes at once to make better use of my time.

Now I have to collect lists and addresses. I can only get two addresses a day, so I’ll be literally collecting them.

A reminder to people who don’t want to wade through my lengthy post about this: AnySoldier.com makes it possible to send deployed troops the items they really need in care packages. Won’t you make a difference in a soldier’s life this holiday season? Visit AnySoldier.com, click the Where to Send link, and read the story of one of the service members. Buy a few things on his or her wish list and send it. Sure, it’ll take a few minutes of your time and a few dollars of your money, but it’s the best way I can think of to support our troops.

I look forward to the day when these young people can come home.

I grew up in the 60s and 70s; my parents grew up in the 40s and 50s. When I was a kid — before I learned to tune in a radio by myself, that is — I was kind of stuck listening to the kind of music my parents liked. I’m talking about Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Dean Martin, Nat King Cole, and other “vocalists.”

Although I didn’t really like the music, I didn’t hate it, either. And nowadays, hearing those old songs brings back memories from my childhood. I can still remember trimming the Christmas tree in the living room of our New Jersey home, listening to “It Was a Very Good Year” from an LP on the console stereo by the stairs.

I’ve been collecting some of those old songs for a while, as well as songs from way before that time — big band songs that really made you want to swing. But I never really got into collecting this music as much as I wanted to complete my classic rock collection with my favorite songs from the 70s and 80s.

Sometime within the past year or so, I stopped buying music online. I was simply fed up with the limitations put on the DRM-protected music available on the iTunes music store. I wasn’t interested in breaking the law and downloading music from illegal sites. I wanted to buy it. But I couldn’t see buying an entire CD at a store for $15 or more (plus tax or shipping or both). So I pretty much stopped buying music, except, of course for new releases by my favorite artists: Steely Dan, Eric Clapton, etc.

Enter iTunes Plus. I wrote about it on Wednesday, explaining how you could use it to update your iTunes Store purchases of EMI-published music to remove the DRM and improve sound quality. One of the things I didn’t mention in that article is that I bought a DRM-free album, Classic Sinatra – His Greatest Performances, 1953-1960. I don’t know about you, but I think 20 songs for $12.99 and immediate gratification without DRM restrictions is a pretty good deal.

So good a deal, in fact, that I stopped by on Thursday and picked up two other albums: Dino – The Essential Dean Martin and The Very Best of Nat King Cole.

I’m buying this music for a few reasons reasons. First of all, I like it and I want to add it to my collection. Second, I think it’s a great deal. And third, I want to do my part to support legal online sales of DRM-free music.

Let’s face it: I’m not a music pirate and most people who rip CDs and buy music for their iPod aren’t either. The music industry is not going to go broke by removing protection from the music. I believe more people will buy it with the restrictions removed. I believe that this could be the answer to turn around the music industry, to get more people buying music again.

But then again, I might be extremely naive about this whole thing and one of the few fools buying iTunes Plus music.

What do you think? Use the comments link or form to share your thoughts with other site visitors.

I’ve maintained an Amazon.com wish list for at least a year now. I do it for two reasons:

• To keep track of the books, DVDs, CDs, and other items I want. When I place an order with Amazon.com for something I need and I either need another item to get free shipping or want to piggyback a little gift to myself on that order, I pick something off the list and buy it in the same order.
• To let other people know about the books, DVDs, CDs, and other items I want. This is especially useful for family members around the holidays, when they don’t know what to get me. But it’s also nice for site visitors. After all, I’ve bought Amazon.com wish list items for other bloggers and software developers. I thought maybe someone might want to surprise me.

My list grows. I add more things to it than I actually get. In fact, I added about 10 books today (after going through a back issue of Bookmarks).

My Amazon.com wish list didn’t help my mother buy me a Christmas gift this year. I sent her the link to my list and she e-mailed me back saying, “Is that all you have on the list? Books and movies?”

When I told her that was it, she didn’t reply. But the Friday before Christmas, she e-mailed me to let me know she’d sent my Christmas gift late. I still haven’t gotten it, but I know she didn’t buy anything on my Amazon.com wish list. I’m imagining a sweater (I live in Arizona) from Belk, a Florida-based department store. I distinctly remember the fruit trees she bought me for my birthday a few years ago. Yes. Live fruit trees. Apple and pear, I believe. (Remember, I live in the Sonoran desert of Arizona.) I sent them back to her in Florida. They probably died en route — she never mentioned them. The trees are one of the reasons I created the wish list.

I don’t get it. The wish list includes items ranging in price from about $10 to $75. A person can choose any number of things to buy a perfect gift for his/her budget. Shipping is usually free for orders over $25. And ordering is as simple as clicking a few onscreen buttons. (She even has DSL now!) I know my brother and sister would have used the wish list if they hadn’t bought us a wonderful set of Calphalon cookware for a combo Christmas/Wedding present. (Something else on a wish list.)

So apparently it’s up to me to eat away at the wish list by piggybacking items with other things I need to buy. That’s okay. The wish list is there when I need it, so I won’t forget what items I want.

Anyway, I recommend creating an Amazon.com wish list if you don’t already have one. Then keep the link handy for the next time someone asks what you want for Christmas or your birthday. But if your mom is like mine, add a few things other than just books and CDs. Otherwise, you might wind up with a sweater, too.

On the Friday before Christmas, Mike and I loaded up the truck with a bunch of things, including some furniture, food, tools, Jack the Dog, and Alex the Bird. At about 9 AM, we headed north, to our property at Howard Mesa.

In Wickenburg, it was raining. It was the first time there had been enough rain there to actually get your skin wet for at least a month. Part of me wanted to stay behind and enjoy the weather. But the other part of me knew that it was likely to clear up in an hour or two and I’d just be disappointed. We don’t get many good rainy days in the desert and Friday was not going to be one of them.

Our path took us up Route 93 to Route 89, through Congress and up Yarnell Hill. We stopped at the Cornerstone Bakery for some fresh baked goods to munch on in the car and enjoy on Saturday morning for breakfast. It was a freezing rain there, but nice and toasty in the bakery, which was filled with the usual collection of locals.

Back on the road, we took 89 through Peeples Valley, turned toward Kirkland at Kirkland Junction, got on Iron Springs Road in Kirkland, and followed that to the first traffic light in Prescott. Then Williamson Valley Road to the Pioneer Parkway to Willow Springs Road to 89A. In Chino Valley, we stopped at Safeway, where Mike filled the truck with diesel and I hurried through the store to get veggies and a few last-minute food items. By this time it was snowing pretty hard, with just enough wind to blow the flakes at about a 30° angle to the ground.

Back in the truck, we followed 89A to Ash Fork, where we got on I-40 eastbound. The snow was sticking up there, coating the road with a thin layer of snowy ice. Trucks and cars were taking it easy, preferring a self-mandated speed limit of 35 or 45 MPH rather than the legal 75 MPH limit. It was slow going, but I’m sure it was better that way. Alongside the road, a light dusting of snow covered fields and trees. It looked more like Christmas than it has in a long while for me.

At the exit for the Grand Canyon (the third exit, the one that’s really for the Grand Canyon), we got off and followed Route 64 northbound. There was a lot of snow on the ground there but very few vehicles. Still, we both felt relieved when we reached the turn for Howard Mesa and began our last five miles of the trip. 20 minutes later, we were pulling through our gate while the snow swirled around us.

The entire drive, including the two short stops, had taken about 4 hours.

Inside our camping shed, the temperature was hovering around 35°F — which was pretty much the same temperature as outside. Mike turned on the gas and I struggled a bit to get the heater turned on. He unloaded the car while I turned on the fridge and started putting things away. Jack the Dog immediately got to work terrorizing whatever small rodents had made homes in the fire pit outside. Alex hung out in the truck where it was warmer. He didn’t come in until the temperature had risen to nearly 50°.

My first main task was to clean up after our unwanted lodgers — the mice. The shed has a mouse problem that we’ve tried everything to solve. The last time we were there, we’d gotten desperate enough to leave poison around. I had to scoop up what remained of it (only one of four pieces) before Jack came in. Then I had to uncover the furniture and get the vacuum going to suck up the mouse droppings that seemed to be just about everywhere. I used a lot of disinfectant cleaner on the floor and countertops. I took my time about it — there really wasn’t any reason to rush; I had all day. I had my iPod sitting in the iHome base, playing Christmas songs. Within two hours, I was pretty much done.

In the meantime, Mike was working in the bathroom on the plumbing. On our last brief visit (by helicopter during snow showers), we had discovered that most of the pipes had frozen and cracked. Mike had brought along pipes and connectors and tools to replace the broken pipes with new ones. The job required that he cut away one wall to access the pipes and do a lot of disconnecting. There was no running water in the shed and wouldn’t be until the pipes were repaired. Even the 5-gallon water cooler jug was mostly frozen; I had to light a candle under its spigot to get the water to flow.

I made us a hot lunch of canned chili with scallions and cheese, then washed up using water I boiled on the stovetop. It reminded me of the old days at Howard Mesa, when we’d camped out in our pop-up camper. That camper was wonderful on warm summer nights, but it lacked basic conveniences, such as a refrigerator or toilet. We’d use the tiny two-burner stove to heat water in the morning for coffee and washing up. During the day, we’d use those solar shower bags to heat water for showering and washing dishes. (They really do work in Arizona; we once had the temperature of the water in one of those bags up to 110°F — too hot to shower in!)

After lunch, I went on mouse cleanup duty on the shed’s little loft, which is where we sleep when we camp there. I discovered a place where they might be getting in; I’ll work on closing it up this weekend. Outside, the snow was still falling lightly. Everything was covered with a dusting of it. Jack the Dog was still hard at work at the fire pit, with the fur on the lower half of his body soaking wet. Oddly enough, it wasn’t windy, even though the weather forecast had called for wind gusts up to 28 MPH. A low cloud hung over the mesa, cutting our view to only a few miles.

Before the end of the day, Mike had finished replacing all the cold water lines. He connected the hose from one of our water tanks to the shed’s water line, turned on the pump, and pressurized the system. That’s when he saw the cracks in the hot water lines. We turned off the pump and disconnected the hose, then let any water in the lines run out.

The sun went down and it got dark. We brought Jack in. I made leftovers from home for dinner. The heater, which had been set to 85°F, had gotten the temperature in the shed up to a high of 64°. It didn’t seem that cold. We settled down on the sofa with my 15″ MacBook Pro on a folding table in front of us. I popped in a DVD from the first season of 24. We watched two episodes. We’d heard a lot about the show but had never actually seen it. So I’d added it to my Netflix queue (along with the second season of Boston Legal) and we were checking it out for the first time. Not bad. I can’t imagine watching it with commercials, though.

I slept badly. It’s the stupid hot/cold/hot/cold middle-aged woman thing, combined with the sounds of sleeping someplace different. It was pretty quiet when we first got to sleep, but at about 3 AM, the wind finally kicked up, blowing from the west right at the loft’s only window. I’d left the window open a crack — I’m always worried about asphyxiation in a closed space with a gas appliance running — and Mike had to close it. Sometime during the early morning hours, the wind shifted around to the northeast, which is the back side of the shed. It wasn’t blowing hard enough to shake the building, as it sometimes does. Just loud enough to hear it rushing past in the piñon and juniper pines scattered over our 40 acres. The sky had cleared and there were billions of stars out.

In the morning, the temperature in the shed was 43&degF with the outside temperature 28&deg. This was a problem. The heater was turned up, still set on 85°. As we moved around, making coffee and tea, washing up with water heated on the stove, we started finding drafty places. Around each window. Where the water heater sits against the outside wall. Around the edges of the door. I got my assignment for the day: caulk.

Mike decided he needed something from the hardware store to keep working, so we made a trip down to Williams, AZ. The town was remarkably busy for the time of year. I think it’s because the Grand Canyon Rail Road is doing a special “Polar Express” to the Grand Canyon each day and that’s attracting a lot of families. The town also sets up a real Christmas tree on side street off Route 66 and blocks off the street so visitors can walk around it. Nice.

We took care of business in the True Value hardware store, buying about $90 worth of stuff that included a new front door mat and weather stripping. Then we hit Safeway for a few things, stopping at the Starbucks counter on the way out for mocha lattes.

By the time we got back to the mesa, before lunchtime, a lot of the snow had melted. Mike got back to work and Jack continued his vigil at the fire pit. Sometime during the day, he started barking at something — we looked out the window in time to see an antelope hopping away across the road. One of the open range cows also came by, but since we’d kept the gate closed, she didn’t get into our property. (Cows have done a lot of damage at our friends’ place on the other side of the mesa, making us very glad we fenced in our entire lot years ago.)

Soup and sandwiches for lunch. The shed temperature was in the low 60s while it remained in the 30s outside.

I went through a whole tube of caulk on the windows. The shed was built with window frames that they’d stuck standard sized windows into. Unfortunately, the frames were about 1/2 inch too wide and tall for the windows, leaving a gap on at least two sides. They’d finished the outside of the windows with trim, closing up the gaps a bit, but they were still drafty. And one window leaked. I’d fixed the leaky window during the summer but had never thought that the gaps might cause drafts in the window. So I went to work with the caulk gun, which I’m actually pretty good at using. I ran out of caulk before I’d finished all of the windows, but I’d closed up the worst of the gaps.

Mike, as part of his pipe insulation procedure, had sealed up around the water heater with Fiberglas and foam insulation. I used garage door weather striping around the front door. The door was made to fit the shed and it doesn’t fit quite right. You can see light through the cracks around the door. Even with the thick rubbery weather striping, you can still see light in a few places. But it’s a lot better than it was.

Mike finished up all the piping by sunset. Hooked up the water again, ran the pump, and pressurized the system. No leaks. He turned on the water heater. I washed dishes from lunch. He cleaned up. Then he was ready for a shower.

Unfortunately, he’d waited too long. The outside temperature had dropped and the hose, which had never fully defrosted from the night before, had thickened up with ice. The pump was unable to bring in enough water. His shower was very short-lived. He stepped out, cranky and miserable. I was just glad I’d let him go first.

Getting water from the tanks to our camping equipment had always been a problem in cold weather. In the spring of 2004, I’d moved up to Howard Mesa in our horse trailer with living quarters, which also had a pump to get water from the tanks to the inside plumbing. Unfortunately, during the night the hose would freeze and the pump would try in vain to get the water out. That would run down the trailer’s battery and burn up the pump. So I had to turn off the pump each night and use the trailer’s internal water storage system for water. Not a big deal. Once every few days, I’d fill the internal tank so there was always water there when I needed it.

But here at the shed, we don’t have internal water storage. All the water has to come from one of the big tanks. The closest one is about 40 feet away. Because this is not a permanent setup, we didn’t dig a trench and put in a pipe. We use a hose. And the hose freezes every night, even though we do our best to drain the water out of it.

At least it hasn’t cracked yet.

Anyway, we spent Saturday night much the same way as Friday night. A nice hot dinner and two episodes of 24 on my MacBook Pro’s wide screen. The shed was much warmer — it had gotten up to 71°F by late afternoon. I slept well, waking about an hour before dawn. Outside, the moonless sky was bright with stars.

This morning, the inside temperature was 57°; outside it was 31°. I like to think it was my excellent caulking and weather striping that kept the shed reasonably warm overnight.

Today, Christmas Eve, I’ll finish cleaning up the shed — didn’t get much done in the bathroom with Mike making such a mess in there. Then we’ll put up the Christmas lights. Later, when it gets warmer, we’ll go for a walk around our fence line, making repairs and looking for castoff elk antlers as we go. It’s beautifully clear outside — I can see for at least 50 miles in every direction — and, as I write this at 10 AM, its already nearly 40°. It’ll be nice to get out. And I’m sure Jack the Dog is looking forward to a good run. He’s been going nuts every time the coyotes start howling nearby.

This afternoon, after a nice hot shower (got my fingers crossed), we’re going up to the Grand Canyon to meet some friends for dinner at El Tovar. Then dessert at our friends’ house on the other side of the mesa.

I’m looking forward to driving back to our place tonight, to seeing those red Christmas lights all alone in the middle of nowhere.

[composed on top of a mesa in the middle of nowhere with ecto]

I stumbled upon an article in Slate Magazine titled “The Sovereign vs. the Idiot: What kind of gift-giver are you?” by Joel Waldfogel. Its lead paragraph includes the following factoid:

Most of the time, people choose purchases for themselves and only buy things that they expect to value at or above the price they pay. With gifts, by contrast, recipients end up with items that givers guess that the recipients might appreciate.

The result of all this, according to the article, is that we often pay more than we should for items that may or may not be appreciated by the recipients. In other words, we don’t get as much satisfaction for our money. The article, which is about the economics of gift giving goes into more details.

The article brings me back to the days when Christmas shopping was a chore that required multiple trips to department stores and malls for gifts that would allow me to check off names on a list. In those days, the main concern was the people on the list, my budget, and what each recipient might like. Not would like, mind you. Might like. In those days, it seemed more important to check off the names than to get a truly appropriate and appreciated gift. I bought a lot of crap from those department store displays — you know, the rotating tie racks, the scarf and glove sets, the gift-packaged cologne. Easy gifts chosen by the store’s marketing department rather than the giver, generic gifts of the one-size-fits-all variety.

I was younger then. Not busier, but younger and less wise. Since then, I’ve realized that gift giving is more than just checking off names on a list. It’s finding the right gift for each person.

In my family, we cheat. In late November, we e-mail each other a list of items we’d like to get. Sometimes we include links to the items online. This is even easier if we maintain an Amazon.com wish list (as I do) or some other gift registry. Then we discuss it with each other to make sure there are no duplicates and shop online.

For example, suppose my sister in law had a wish list at the Gap that included 5 different items. I’d go check out her wish list and see that my budget allowed me to buy her two of them. (I always pick the ones that I like, too.) I’d then e-mail my sister and mother and tell them which items I was buying so neither of them would buy the same thing. They might each buy something else on the Gap list or perhaps something from another list. As a result, my sister in law would get exactly what she wanted with no duplicates.

It goes the same way with big gifts. Suppose my brother wanted some heavy-duty power tool. The price tag might be beyond what I’d normally spend, but if my sister chipped in, we could get it together. He’d get exactly what he wanted and my sister and I would both be done shopping for him within minutes.

In my case, Christmas shopping has become very easy. Not only do I buy just about all my gifts online these days, but I have them shipped right to the recipient. In the case of family members this year, they’re shipped right to the place the recipients will be — at my mother’s house. (She has already confirmed receipt of two of the three packages that will arrive.) If I was there, I’d take them from their shipping boxes and wrap them. But since I’m not, the shipping boxes become the wrapping. True, it’s not as attractive, but no one seems to mind. The only thing I miss is seeing the recipient’s faces as they pull out the gifts they really wanted.

I actually give gifts year-round. Not every day or week, mind you. Just occasionally. You know how it is. You go on vacation and see a shirt that’s perfect for a friend. There’s no reason for a gift, but the match is so good you can’t resist. So you buy it and bring it to your friend. I did this after my Thanksgiving trip. We’d been to a place called “Stan’s” and they sold t-shirts that said, in big letters, “If found, return to Stan’s” on the back of the shirt. I have a friend named Stan and I thought he’d get a kick out of it. So we bought it and gave it to him. I have another friend that we tease with SpongeBob SquarePants items. Every time I see something cool (but small; he lives in a fifth wheel), we pick it up for him. Gifts like these are seldom expensive, but they’re usually a good (or at least fun) match for the recipient. I get more pleasure out of giving these random gifts than Christmas or birthday gifts. I think it’s because it’s unexpected by the recipient and it makes them feel just a tiny bit special to be thought of for no apparent reason.

And isn’t that what gift giving is about? Making the recipient feel as if you’ve been thinking about him/her and what he/she might like?

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