Never fear. We’re still earthworms. It’s just that The Duck! City landscape looks a bit lunar in spots, especially at the eastern end of Comanche Road NE, which tilts up and turns to dirt just short of Foothills Trail 365.
During our nine years here a few eastbound motorists have failed to notice that Comanche just sort of, oh, I don’t know, ends at its intersection with Camino de la Sierra NE. Their vehicles take flight, briefly, then return to earth, their only laurels being the remains of the wire fence marking the end of Comanche and the beginning of the Sandia Mountains. Resale value and driving privileges suffer. Lunacy of a different sort entirely.
Anyway, it’s not hot enough around here to be the moon, which enjoys highs of 260° Fahrenheit in full sunlight. It just feels that way lately.
Herself and I got a late start on our weekly bike ride this morning, and it was getting right toasty as we climbed Big Horn Ridge Drive toward a couple of whoop-de-doos that are more fun when done from the other direction.
Bunnies we had seen, but no quail, and I was thinking we were going to get skunked (har de har har) until a lone adult quail ran across the road just ahead of us, saw us, and pulled a U, scurrying back down into the gully.
We stopped to have a peek over the side, and wowser, there were at least three pairs of adults and a whole mob of juveniles puttering around down there, wishing we would quit gawking and be on our way, like the two e-bikers who zip-zapped past without a word.
It pays to keep your eyes peeled around here. You never know what you might see, even if it’s only a windshield full of wire and the Sandias coming up fast.
Mad Blog Media 
Every ride, even on a familiar and frequently used route, is different. They never get old or boring.
And, if they ever start to seem a little too familiar, you can always reverse course and ride them in the other direction. Works for running and walking too.
105F? Whew! I think we had somewhere around 102-103F up here at the Oregon entrance to hell. I usually saunter out for a short ride even in the heat, but responsibilities as they’ve been, not today. At least not in the daylight.
I’ve been running across a lot more squirrels on my rides this year. I don’t recall the number that I’ve nearly scrunched. I had one that shot across and made it between my wheels while I was running at about 20mph. I stirred up a deer last night on the outbound leg and then on the return leg I had a racoon startled by my bike light, rushing on an intercept course to make it across the path at the same time I was there. A collision was avoided and the startled racoon tumbled away through the brush. A few weeks back I was on a bike path and came around a corner entering a train underpass and discovered that the tunnel was occupied by a now startled skunk. My brakes worked well and I stopped out of range allowing Mr. / Mrs. skunk the opportunity to continue their waddle out of there. It’s always an adventure on my short rides these days.
Some “Wild Kingdom” moments, hey? Did Marlin Perkins and Jim show up to provide exposition?
It’s been an active critter year here, too. Lots of bunnies on the rides, big and little, which explains the sudden return of the sleek, well-fed coyotes. Squirrels running along the block walls Burqueños use instead of fences, too, and foxes, skunks, and raccoons popping up on the backyard trail cam.
Hardly any snakes, at least by the time I get out (usually between 7 and 9 a.m.). They must be having to work the early shift. In Weirdcliffe we had snake years and no-snake years. In the former you’d think there was nothing but snakes around there.
My Sierra Club Naturalist’s Guide said rattlesnakes were not to be found above 8,000 feet, but nobody told the buzzworms, so they showed up anyway.
We have a heat advisory for the next three days for over 100 degrees. 102, 102, and 101. It’s 7:30 PM here and still 96 degrees. I think we are also bumping up against the max capacity of our A/C system.
Samey same here, Paddy me lad. When I got up at 5:30 this morning it was already 80°, which is where I have the a/c pegged. Helluva note when you open the doors and windows, hoping to catch some cool morning breeze, and instead the a/c kicks on.
Speaking of Hell, Phoenix. Yow. The swimming pools must feel like fondue pots.
We got lucky this morning with a temp of 72 right now with a light breeze. Doors and windows are wide open with ceiling fans preparing for a carrier takeoff sans catapult.
My brother lives in a tin can in Phoenix and he doesn’t use his water heater in the summer. He takes hot showers with just the water plumbed into his place. The park where he lives must have decided that burying the water lines at 6″ was ok.
My brother’s a classic Jimmy Buffett fan. I’d be surprised if he didn’t often think about Buffett’s song (Son of a Son of a Sailor) with the lyrics, “I’m just glad I don’t live in a trailer”.
I lived in a 9×40 singlewide when I first went back to college in Greeley. Just me and two dogs. It was cheap, and I met some interesting people in the trailer park, which was a short bike/medium hike from campus.
The biggest downside (other than sharing such tight quarters with two dogs) was that the oil burner was forever crapping out in winter and I’d awaken after a beery evening to a toilet full of ice. I usually didn’t notice until the splashback. Oopsie.
I would live in a trailer again if I had to … I just hope I never have to. Especially with two dogs and an oil burner.
Meanwhile, Jimmy Buffett. Damn straight! I have “A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean” in vinyl and digital. Novelist Thomas McGuane, bosom buddy of poet-screenwriter-novelist Jim Harrison, wrote the liner notes for it. And of course McGuane, a.k.a. Captain Berserko, married Buffett’s sister.
“Lord, it’s a little bitty world!” as a McGuane character, W.T. Austinberry, once exclaimed in “Something to be Desired.”
“Herself and I got a late start on our weekly bike ride this morning, and it was getting right toasty as we climbed Big Horn Ridge Drive toward a couple of whoop-de-doos that are more fun when done from the other direction.”
I was doing those whoop-de-doos one Sunday morning doing my best to keep my momentum up to get over the first one without too much effort when I had to brake for two people in the middle of the road with two gigantic dogs. Luckily for me, before I could yell out something unseemly, I recognized them as the president (at the time) of our local bomb factory and her husband.
Funny how many “smart” people walk in the middle of the street with dogs on retractable leashes. Maybe not.
In their defense there is a notable absence of sidewalks in this burg. I suppose if we had more the motorheads would use them as parking spots or passing lanes.
What happens if somebody shows up and decides to fly the stars and bars? That will be an interesting constitutional freedom of speech issue.
https://www.wfae.org/charlotte-area/2023-07-11/new-housing-development-in-gastonia-requires-patriots-to-fly-american-flag
I suppose their covenants will have to be rewritten to indicate that if a homeowner does not patriotically display the American flag, their home may be pelted by refuse from other area homeowners. But hey, “patriotically display” can be understood in a myriad of ways. Some folks just don’t understand the founding document that they believe they are defending.
Regarding something of a cycling matter, I just saw that one of your favorite Texas cyclists is partaking on some bizarre reality show. It’s may be a good thing that I don’t watch a lot of tv.
If this dude can find enough like-minded people to fill his red-white-and-blue enclave, more power to him.
It’s like building fortified positions. Once you know their location, you make a note of it and just scoot around them.