The Power of Wood

Ugh...Sometimes I give Confucious way too much credit. 

Much to my surprise Henry Ford is actually the true author of one of my favorite prophetic phrases. It speaks simply to the dual benefit of a little hard work. That saying, of course, is...

"Chop your own wood and it will warm you twice."

I have always loved this saying  because it rings within my mind's ear every time I wield an axe or command a chainsaw.  Make no mistake, I am far from a modern day Paul Bunyon, but I do know how to fell a tree and I have long understood how true that saying really is.

But I am telling you right here, right now Mr. Ford came up a little short. Wood is much more powerful than that, for a single log has threefold the warming power.

How? The math is quite simple.

I recently had the honor and pleasure to serve some absolutely wonderful families of the Navajo nation. You see, life on the reservation remains hard. And as spoiled as most Americans are, few realize the constant struggle some face every day simply to provide the basic necessities of living. So when I was asked to help deliver firewood to the homes of those families in need, it wasn't a question that needed to be repeated. Besides...it would give me a chance to break in my jeep to see if it would pass muster on the sometimes challenging contours of the West.

To say I was humbled meeting the members of the Navajo is a gross understatement. One can not simply say they are a strong people. It's akin to calling the universe "kinda big". The people of the reservation are so much stronger than any people I have ever known for they persist on such meager provisions, it makes one realize how incredibly spoiled most of us truly are.

So how does this relate to Mr. Ford's saying?

Seeing and feeling the gratitude upon each family's face upon delivering a load of logs, one could not help but feel the wealth of appreciation that roared from within their hearts. In fact, Ephron, a Navajo daughter who assisted us in translation as we visited each and every house said there was no English word to describe their feelings of thankfulness, and that by far, was when the log blazed warmest.

So the log warms thrice...the cutting, the GIVING, and the burning.

And it has never been more satisfying.

I wonder what Confuscious has to say about that.

________________________________________________________________________

And if you must know...the Jeep did not disappoint!

A Wayward Track

A Wayward Track

Sent in the field the other day...

Well not exactly. An email to pick up my new ID in Los Alamos is not really the first field exercise I was hoping for, but nowadays, every trip is a new adventure. So as I exited the facility nestled at the foot of the Jemez, the chain of mountains to my left beckoned more so than the canyon I had recently traversed. Oh cmon now, don't steep mountain passes dotted with elk crossing signs call to everyone?

I decided to put my GPS away and just drive. For those of you that don't know, the west is a topographically-challenged person's dream. As long as you get high enough (I'm talking altitude here!), you can see your destination from a hundred miles away. As much as I love Montana I do not believe it can lay sole claim to "the land of the big sky".

Needless to say, I had a good day.

View from an overlook descending into Bandelier National Monument. The native American cave dwellings are on the cliff face in the distance. Almost two-thirds of this area burned a few years ago in a Los Conchas wild fire. 

Before I knew it, I found myself on a lonely winding road to Bandelier National Monument. What lay before me I simply can not give justice. No pictures, no words. Therefore I will leave you with an open invitation to visit, to behold with your own eyes, for I will gladly return and give you a tour. I'll conclude with the words from someone near and dear to me, because quite frankly, she nailed it.

Not from Bandelier but from the nearby Puye cliff

dwellings (taken with my phone through binoculars).

If you look closely you can see some of the hieroglyphs

 made by the pueblo Indians possibly up to

a thousand years ago.

"Behold in your heart, not your eyes.  You are in an enchanted place for certain yet there are many more places to explore. As you begin reaching out further and further, make sure to savor the flavor."

I drank deeply today and it delighted my tastebuds to no end.

Enjoy!














And the best part of all and money well spent...I now have my annual National Park Pass!

Dreams Passing By

Ramblings from the Rail
My scatter-brained ponderings from a 90-minute train ride.


I am nestled snugly in a recliner-like chair on the upper deck of a toasty rail car, enjoying my daily commute to the office. The smooth and tranquil ambience within the car can lull even the most coffee-induced adrenaline junkies into a silent stupor. Yet, as I sit, I am transfixed on the scenery before me. The landscape rolling by is intimidating. The air and place outside the rail car is the antithesis of my comfort. 

Beyond the rail car...

...it is sharp and unpredictable.

The air can be extreme, from meltingly hot to the kind of cold that sears the lungs while freshening the soul. I want to inhale it deep.

...it is wild and unbound.
It teems with unmolested vistas as far as my eyes can behold. I strive to tame it.

...it is difficult and hazardous.
It bears carved, crevice-streaked plains backdropped by rolling hills broken by jutting hard mountains. It'd be one heckuva good workout.

...but most of all, it is unknown. Not to history, but to me. I have never stepped foot nor travelled through an ounce of the land I see before me. I know not what it holds or what final destinations await but it is the potential journey that excites me.

So as I sit in blissful comfort why am I drawn to the harshness outside?

Simple...because it is my passion. Being in unbroken places is what truly makes me happy. Therefore, I wait in eager anticipation to step off the train, not to lose my spoiled comfort, but to gain my soulful desire.

To put the lesson simple, don't let a comfy chair be the cause for your dreams to pass you by.

Aside: I find it ironic that my "wild" desires are analogous to anyone wishing to pursue their dreams. Some people are, or at least say they are, driven by their passions and if there's truth in anything I write, pursuing your passions is often like the scenes from the train. Plain and simple, chasing your dreams is sometimes scary. Your pursuits can be unpredictable at times, they can lead you on wild adventures, they are almost always difficult to attain, and making the decision to pursue them always leads you into the great unknown. We all are riding a rail car through life, trying to find that comfortably warm seat with the best views. But what good is that ride if we sit in comfort watching the things that inspire us pass us by? I for one will risk the comfort of the chair for a chance at one day living that dream.

Yes, son this is also for you.

Watermelon Mountain

Believe it or not, my first ever sojourn into the Land of Enchantment occurred only about six weeks ago. I booked round trip tickets for myself and my good friend Kevin (riding partner for company and heckuva brilliant soil scientist) so we could scope out the "new digs". Having never stepped foot in New Mexico, I felt it prudent to verify that I actually had a job and place to call home because up until then, it was an application, a few phone calls, and a whimsical dream. Fortunately, everything that was verbally promised awaited me at my new Santa Fe office, and with a sigh of relief, Kevin and I set out to explore what in a few short weeks my family and I would be calling home.

That's when I witnessed it for the first time.

View standing in my front yard.

A monarch of a mountain range. A huge upheaval of granite that stood forebodingly beautiful as a picturesque backdrop to my new home. The first picture I ever snapped of it I was standing outside my son's high school. It took my breath away.

One can only imagine when the first Homo sapiens stumbled into the valley and settled within its early morning shadows. The earliest inhabitants, the Pueblos called it Bien Mur, otherwise known as big mountain. As the new settlers came in, they would rename the mountain (like they usually do) but something this beautiful, this majestic, could only bear a notable and righteous name. And so forth it was named, from now until the world moves on, it would be known as "Sandia" Mountain. A regal name at that!

Not being well-versed in Spanish I could not wait to uncover the translation. My mind wandered. Could it mean "Patriarch"? Or how about "Heavenly Rock"? Possibly "Guardian"? Heck, I bet it means "Grizzly's Lair"!

Nope.

It means watermelon.

Yep...you heard me.

I now live in the shadow of watermelon mountain.

So much for romance at every turn.

Oh well...at least my bed-loving black lab has a new nickname. But I'm telling you right now, if I spend the next few years exploring cantaloupe canyon or grapefruit glades I'm gonna be seriously disappointed in the naming committee of old!

Meet my lovable puppy Sandia (aka Brooklyn) -------->

Nemophilosophy

Nemophilosophy

Thoughts and ideas from a "forest nut"

Why or why not to read this blog is not a question for me to answer. I simply write. This blog is not only a vessel for me to store my adventures, it is also where I store my meandering thoughts as I hike along the trail of "Life", breathing in the scenery and dodging the obstacles as I go.

A wildlife biologist by trade, I am a nemophilist by creation. As you can imagine the two are not independent variables. My passion chose my career. In doing so, it also chose my hobbies, my acquaintances, and in large-part my adventures.

Having so much invested in the outdoors, much to the chagrin of some and to the elation of others, I find myself wanting to commit the cardinal sin of a true outdoorsman... I want to leave a mark on this world. Not the ugly scar left behind by some exploitive commercial venture but rather a blaze showing the way to those that follow. For the function of a blaze is to show the path that I have chosen and to encourage others to follow along that the same path.

I don't know how. I don't even know if I bear the tools capable of making said mark. I only know that we need help, "we" being the forests and all the creatures within. Though there are many that see value in all things wild, there are far too many that do not. And that is the change needed in this world.

If I offend some, it is not my intention though I make no apologies. I simply write to inspire.

I have no regrets only hopes.