Random Thoughts, Part 7

1. Next year's presidential election is already weighing heavily on my mind.  Barack Obama has been such a disaster as president -- having no leadership skills and lacking sense enough to surround himself with people who do -- that one would normally think he had no chance whatsoever of being re-elected; however, the Republican field of candidates is something less than reassuring.  I feel like I should be enthused about Mitt Romney's front-runner status, given his being Mormon (and thus probably a very decent individual) and his proven administrative ability, but I can't feel good about his tendency to say and do just about anything that he thinks will help his chances of being elected.  I also know the mainstream media will lay off him until he becomes the nominee -- just because they they think his religion makes him an easy target  -- and then come at him full-bore.  ("Funny underwear!" "Polygamy!" "Men can become gods!" "History of racism and sexism!" "Weird temple ordinances with Masonic origins!" "Homophobic bigots!" "High rates of [fill in the blank]!")  But who else is there?  Apart from being more conservative, Rick Perry seems like the second coming of George W. Bush.  Michele Bachmann appears bright and sufficiently conservative, but the media proved with Sarah Palin that conservative women are easily ripped apart.  Newt Gingrich is smart and experienced, but he simply carries too much baggage.  I'd relish the pitting of a conservative African American like Herman Cain against the liberal ideologue Obama, but I'm just not convinced Cain is prepared to assume the office (reminiscent of Obama himself) -- and, of course, at any rate the media would paint him as a blood traitor to his race.  The election is a long way off, but the Republican train hasn't even made it onto the rails yet.

[Update 11/10/11: Rick Perry has now committed a gaffe in a debate -- forgetting "Department of Energy" as the third of three federal agencies he'd abolish as president -- that seems likely to seal his doom as a candidate.  And, as if anyone couldn't have predicted it, Herman Cain, like Clarence Thomas before him, is being tarred as a serial sexual harasser; it's curious how every conservative African American man seems to be "outed" as an out-of-control horndog at the precise moment he's poised to make an impact on the national political scene.  Barack Obama has an amazing array of dirty operatives at his disposal -- just look at his election as senator from Illinois, when the "sealed" court records from his opponents' divorces magically came to light -- which makes me wonder why it is that no reputable person in the party opposite seems to have the means or the nerve to dig up the goods on Obama.]

2. I really don't know what to make of the recent "Occupy [Wall Street, etc.]" movement, if one can call it a movement.  Their contentions are both incoherent and absurd -- they're blaming banks that they ended up with $100,000 in student-loan debt and a useless college degree in liberal arts? -- but one common thread seems to run through them: the reflexive desire for government to step in and make things "right."  That in itself makes them, for lack of a better term, the "anti-Tea Party," given that the Tea Party movement wants government to intrude less and to allow free enterprise to refuel our terrible economy.  (More than one conservative wag, taking note of the personal-hygiene habits of the "Occupy" people, began referring to them as the "Flea Party.")  There is such an air of unreality these days, on both ends of the political spectrum, that I despair of finding a solution either to the debt crisis, on one hand, or the jobs crisis on the other.  Will our mind-boggling national debt be paid down without tax increases?  No.  But has Congress shown it can raise taxes -- or, for that matter, do anything at all -- without also raising expenditures?  (And are there enough "rich" people to leave holding the bag?)  No...writ large.  It's all too depressing to contemplate.

3. I've thought a lot about the devolution of traffic court in the local Metropolitan Court system.  At one time, smart people always opted to go to court when cited for speeding, simply because there was a better-than-even chance the police officer wouldn't show up for "trial" and the citation would be dismissed.  If the cop did show up, it was certain the person would end up paying something, as one could neither (a) argue the facts, since the officer was per se considered more truthful/credible than the "defendant," nor (b) argue the law, because frankly the law doesn't mean very much in traffic court -- Metro Court not being a court of record and its judges thus not having to fear being reversed or taken to task by a higher court.  (There's a term for a court in which neither the facts nor the law is subject to dispute or interpretation, and it involves a certain marsupial.)  However, the judge typically offered some sort of plea-disposition deal, which involved paying a lower fine and having the citation "dismissed" -- and not having the "offense" reported to the Motor Vehicle Division -- if the person had no subsequent citations for six months.  (The terms of such a deal were often deviously offered, which one would discover only the next time he was ticketed --  which could be many years later -- finding he was now a "repeat offender" and subject to greater sanctions such as driver-improvement school.)  The situation these days, however, is much worse.  First, on the initial trip to court, one meets with a court "negotiator" whose job it is to arrange for plea deals without involving the officer at all.  A person can still insist on having an actual "trial" date, but those dates are carefully aligned with the cop's schedule, and all APD officers are now scheduled to go to court on certain days.  And, second, the person is warned vehemently that if he doesn't accept the plea offer, he will, if (make that when) found "guilty," have to pay both the full fine associated with the citation and court costs.  This new system has made traffic court even more Kafka-esque than ever, something I wouldn't have thought possible; in any case, there's now a tremendous (and assuredly intentional) disincentive to go to court in Bernalilllo County on a traffic citation. Thank goodness I haven't had a speeding ticket now in over six years, but there are times -- particularly when I'm on my way to work and am trying to hit all the lights green -- when I exceed the speed limit by up to 8-9 mph.  In general, I'm fairly careful not to speed...too much...but I remain vulnerable.

4. I sometimes think about my immediate family's (that is, my siblings' and my) record in marriage.  Only two of my parents' six children haven't been divorced, or at least separated, from their first spouses.  One brother has been married four times to three different women, although his current marriage has lasted a number of years now.  Another brother has been married three times to two different women, although his current marriage has lasted about thirty years.  A third brother divorced after 33 years of marriage and is still in some personal disarray over the breakup, despite having been unhappy in his marriage for many years.  And my sister only recently reconciled with her husband after an extended separation.  Thus my remaining brother and I are the only ones who have stayed with our original spouses for the duration.  This record may not be a stellar one, but I attribute it more to basic incompatibility than to the shortcomings of my family members.  The LDS church leadership is on record as saying that any man and woman who are committed to living gospel principles should be able to have a successful marriage, but I think all of my siblings would agree with me that such a blanket statement is, to say the least, overly simplistic.

5. I bought a "magnet therapy" bracelet when we were in Pagosa Springs in July.  I considered it new-age voodoo even at the point of sale, but I've been willing to consider various alternative remedies for my equilibrium problems.  It almost goes without saying that the bracelet has done nothing to alleviate my dizziness, but I continue to wear it: one, I like the way it looks; two, it was Dorine's idea to buy it, so, in a way, it's a second emblem (along with my wedding ring) of my love for her; and three, well, I wear it as a token of both (a) faith that I can be healed from my mal de debarquement and (b) the utter failure of conventional medicine to diagnose or treat my ailment.  I'll probably lose the bracelet eventually, as small magnets don't make the best of clasps (and it's already come off at several inopportune moments) but I'll wear it while I have it.

6. I still feel some odd draw to my singles-ward days in 1981-84, and I wish for more content on Facebook about the old Albuquerque 11th Ward.  Just why I should feel a greater draw to the singles ward than to other times of my pre-marriage life (such as high school, my time at BYU, or my mission), I can't explain.  Do I miss these people?  Not particularly -- I'd like to become friends again with my old buddy Tracy Carroll, whom I haven't seen now in probably 12-13 years, and I'd sort of like to know what happened to Barbara T_____ and see a current photo of her, but that's about it.  I can't even say I'd like to re-live any singles-ward times or events, but perhaps I have a Freudian sense that I've left things undone or should have treated people differently.  Who can tell?

7. It's interesting to me how my diet has changed over time.  I still eat way too much of the wrong things, but I don't eat much ice cream anymore.  I also eat much less cereal, red meat, eggs, and even chocolate and other candy.  Finally, I drink quite a bit less soda pop than I once did.  However, I still eat too much in the way of chips, nuts, and other snack foods -- and even my daily quart of Gatorade packs a lot of sugar.  What I really need to do is eat fewer meals and smaller portions, and also snack less.  My metabolism has slowed so much that I can't say what it would take in the end for me to lose weight, but I've made some progress, anyway, in terms of diet.

On being "empty-nesters," going off sleep meds (again), and other matters

Where did our chicks go?

As of Friday, August 26, Dorine and I officially became "empty-nesters," as Darren went back to BYU in Provo for his senior year. I enjoyed having Darren here for the summer and am happy he had a student internship at Sandia National Laboratories. It feels really strange to arrive at home at night and realize we aren't waiting for one of our kids to come home; however, the thing I've noticed most is a weird sensation that our house and all our possessions are finally "ours," as no one else is using them. Of course, we aren't "alone," as our four daughters and their families all live here in Albuquerque and we still get to see them regularly; still, this is the first time in our nearly 27 years of marriage that Dorine and I have no children at home. How did all that time pass already?

I finally decided I needed to kick my sleep meds again, as it was apparent they were causing lots of problems without any commensurate benefit. So, on Monday night, August 8, I quit the meds cold-turkey and have not taken anything since. It's been a struggle, as even a "good" night entails my sleeping only 4-5 hours, and many nights I've only gotten 2-3 hours of sleep, if that. However, there were immediate benefits. One, my mal de debarquement dizziness diminished, making it much less debilitating than it had been.  I can't say the sleep meds were the cause of my getting sick after our January 2010 Caribbean cruise, but it's clear now that they were at least part of the problem all along.  The dizziness is still there, but it doesn't control my life to the extent it previously had done.  Two, the act of "de-toxing" my body from the effects of long-term usage of prescription hypnotics (and an OTC antihistamine) -- especially the increased dosages I was having to take if I really wanted to sleep through the night -- has been a tremendous physical and psychological boon to me.  I just "feel" healthier, regardless of whether or not I really am healthier.  And three, I am able to exercise more, with less discomfort, even if the ravages of age are causing me to recover less quickly.  Six months ago, I couldn't have dreamed of doing the Chimney Canyon/La Luz Trail hike that I did with John Brewer a couple of weeks ago.  Despite the fact that I did that hike on two hours of sleep the night before, I was able to finish and survive it.  I can't say where I go from here -- my past experiences suggest that I won't be able to thrive, long-term, on less than an average of 6-7 hours of sleep per night -- but I'm hopeful, at least, that I'll get to that point without getting back on sleep meds.  Right now I'm fighting off a lot of night-time aches and restlessness that are waking me up early; I don't know if a new mattress would help, or if I need counseling from a cognitive behavior therapist, but we'll see what happens.

I'm in the process now of moving to another job at Sandia National Laboratories, one that is different from any position I've had there in 19+ years of employment.  It will be a relief to leave my previous job, as I needed a change; however, now that I'm encountering the expectations associated with my new job, I'm starting to fear it will be a rocky transition -- not because I'm not smart enough to catch on, but because my learning curve, barring significant mentoring, may be too flat to match those expectations.  Then, too, my new office is a dank, stuffy cubicle, a far cry from my relatively posh office space in my old job, which is going to motivate me to seek co-location near the program area director whom I support.  (One other time I left a job I knew well, in a nice situation in a decent office, in order to get away from a manager with whom I did not see eye-to-eye.  It didn't work out well because I ended up with the Job From Hell, handling extremely difficult services contracts and sitting in a cubicle next to abject narcissists who seemingly did nothing but toot their own horns all day.  All indications are that my new situation isn't that bad, but I've never handled change particularly well.)

It's now been a full five years since I last went to Las Vegas.  I keep feeling a strange desire to go back -- not because I want to gamble, or pay too much for show tickets, or stay in a four-star resort, or slaughter my stomach in some expensive buffet, but simply because I miss the excitement.  I suspect the bad economy has done a lot to drive room rates and food prices down in Sin City, but I can't say when I'll ever make it back there.

Chimney Canyon/La Luz Trail Hike, September 3, 2011

The route -- more or less clockwise from upper left

John

Me

John Brewer and I went hiking on Saturday, September 3, 2011. We chose what has become an overly ambitious hike for me, going up the bottom part of the La Luz Trail to the mouth of Chimney Canyon, then up the Chimney Canyon Route to Sandia Crest, then down the La Luz Trail to our starting point. John and I did fine on the first part of the hike, chatting about work and other matters; however, once in Chimney Canyon proper, I became progressively worn-out, to the point where, on the steepest parts of the trail, I was taking fifteen steps at a time and having to rest in between. We still made pretty good time for old men, reaching the Crest in roughly four-and-a-quarter hours total; however, by the time we reached the gift shop, where we stopped and ate (I had the $3.50 hot dog + chips and a $2.00 can of soda), I literally felt like I couldn't have walked another hundred feet. The rest reinvigorated me to the point where I felt like I could manage the hike down the La Luz, but, though we took every major shortcut that I'm familiar with -- including the long one that bypasses most of the lower switchbacks -- it still took us three more hours to reach the bottom La Luz trailhead. It doesn't seem that long ago that I could hike up the La Luz Trail to Sandia Crest, and fairly comfortably, in three hours; now I'm reduced to hiking down in that time (although, admittedly, the hike up Chimney Canyon was extremely taxing and clearly took a lot out of me).  I also don't recover nearly as quickly as I once did.  I can't say I'll never hike up Chimney Canyon again, but, if I do, I suspect I'll either make arrangements to be picked up at the Crest or else hike over to the the Sandia Peak Tramway and ride it down!

Camping Trip to Villanueva, August 5-6, 2011

Devery, Mason, Darren

Kayla and Tyler

Kayla, Tyler, and Mason at the playground

Dion at the playground

Tyler, Kayla, and Heidi

Breakfast

At the playground

On the main road through the park

On the bridge crossing the Pecos

Dorine and I

These photos (and the video) are from our one-night camping trip to Villanueva State Park, New Mexico, on August 5-6, 2011.  We went with Heidi and her husband Dion (and their kids Kayla and Tyler), and with Devery and her little boy Mason.  We pulled into the park early on Friday afternoon, just as the camping spots along the river were filling up, and immediately the lady in the site next to us warned us of nocturnal bear activity and strongly advised us not to spend the night in tents.  However, we, never camping more than a couple of nights a year, only have tents (or "white trash trailers," as Dion calls them) for camping, and we certainly didn't drive all the way out there not to spend the night, so we ignored the warning.  (I also got the distinct impression that the lady was a little bugged about having little kids in close proximity and would say anything to get them to go away.)

Anyway, we did spend the night and, fortunately, weren't bothered by the juvenile black bears that, per the ranger, had been overturning trash cans every night.  Our campsite was very fortuitously located across the road from the park playground, and the kids all had a great time playing on the various slides, monkey bars, and other jungle-gym equipment there.  Villanueva has become sort of like our "family camping spot," even though we only go there once a year; the combination of accessibility (while still being off the beaten path) and physical features (Pecos River, hiking trails, and hills) makes it ideally suited for our purposes.  If I had my way, all of our trips there would be for two nights instead of just one, but "one" beats "none"!  I'm hoping to get in a second camping trip in October down at White Sands National Monument and Oliver Lee Memorial State Park, both of which are near Alamogordo, New Mexico, and perhaps we'll even get in a second night down in Carlsbad so that we can take the kids to see the Caverns.

Mexico Trip, July 19-24, 2011

Casa Alhaja

Devery and Dorine in the living room

Darren out back on the stairs to the beach

Devery with Mason

Lounging at the waterline

Darren with gulls and pelicans

At Flavio's Restaurant

Easton, Steve, and Mason after getting ice cream

Downtown Puerto Penasco

In real waves

Dorine and I at sunset

Our part of the contingent

Front of the house

These photos are from our trip to Puerto Peñasco, Mexico on July 19-24, 2011.  Our son-in-law Easton's parents, Steve and Jeannie H_____, invited us back down this summer.  I'm no big fan of the beach, not even having seen the ocean until I was 17 years old, and, even now, loathing even the slightest taste of seawater.  However, Casa Alhaja, the beachfront house (in the Las Conchas district of Puerto Peñasco) of which the H_____s are part-owners, is a great place to spend a vacation -- especially if one stays for free as the H_____s' guests!  (The H_____s also invited Jeannie's friends Brian and Lisa Keltner, and their kids, from the L.A. area.)  I always worry about driving into Mexico, what with all the border-town crime going on in places like Juárez, Nogales, and Tijuana; however, if there is still a "safe" corridor into Mexico, it is the drive to Puerto Peñasco via Lukeville/Sonoyta, as the area depends greatly on tourism to fuel the local economy.

The worst part of a trip from Albuquerque to Puerto Peñasco is the long drive -- eleven hours' worth each way.  We drove down to Tucson on the evening of Tuesday, July 19, and spent what was left of the night in a Super 8 motel.  The next morning we drove on to Puerto Peñasco, and then stayed there until Sunday, July 24, when we drove the entire way back to Albuquerque.  We had a fun time, and I enjoyed our forays into town to shop (both for food and for souvenirs) and to eat at Flavio's Restaurant (and then to get ice cream at La Michoacana).  The weather was hot, but at least the Gulf of California was right there to cool off in. 

July 2011 Cabin Trip

On the banks of the Rio Blanco

The blinds we installed in the living room

Rafting on the San Juan with a guide

These photos are from our trip to the cabin on July 2-5, 2011 with Kristy and Chris and their family.  Dorine and I didn't drive up to Pagosa Springs until Saturday evening the 2nd, partly because we needed time to buy blinds at Home Depot to install in the cabin's living room.  We were able to obtain the blinds and install them (see photo), although more are needed.  Three things stand out about the trip: (1) Nicole's suffering horribly from what turned out to be a post-operative infection in her small intestine; (2) our going into town on the evening of Monday the 4th to watch the fireworks display (which, I must say, was pretty impressive for a relatively small town); and (3) our paying for a guided raft trip down several miles of the San Juan River through town (see photo), which was significantly more fun than I expected it to be.  Pagosa Springs is a jewel of a town, but don't tell anyone I said so, okay?

My Daughter Kiley's Wedding

Sam and Kiley, 6/24/11

My daughter Kiley was married to Sam H____ in the Albuquerque LDS Temple on Friday, June 24, 2011.  Theirs was a whirlwind romance, commencing shortly after (a) Sam arrived home from his church mission to northern Chile last fall, and (b) they met at the LDS Institute of Religion near the University of New Mexico campus in Albuquerque.  (The men in Sam's family traditionally waste no time in getting married after their stints as missionaries.)  Kiley was very young -- 19 in March -- for marriage, but the match is a good one and I have no doubt that Sam will care and provide well for her.  Kiley made a beautiful bride in the custom-designed dress that we engaged Erin M_____ (our bishop's wife) to make for her.  Sam, whose mother Celestine is one-half Japanese, will bring some Asian ancestry into our family, which I think is totally cool.

Do I feel regrets at "losing" our "baby"?  Perhaps a couple.  One, any familial upheaval in my current state of (un)health is more than a little difficult for me to bear.  (I've already sort of latched on to Kiley's dog Mischa -- whom we're now being landed with a second time -- as a surrogate for Kiley.)  And two, I feel wistful that Kiley and Sam have decided she will attend school at the local community college this fall instead of continuing at UNM.  (I can understand their reasoning in light of the extremely stressful -- if ultimately successful in terms of GPA -- freshman year Kiley had as a music major at UNM, which was made much worse by the distractions of becoming engaged and planning a wedding.  However, I still hope she'll go on to earn a four-year university degree, even if she never has to support them or even work full-time.)

[Update: Kiley did ultimately decide to remain at UNM, although she's changed her major to Family Studies.]

Looking at the World Through Sh%#-stained Glasses

I find myself sinking further down all the time; my outlook on life is so negative now that I find no cause for optimism or happiness in anything.  I can't help dwelling on the changes of the last two years -- two years ago, I had a sleep disorder and was dependent on prescription sleep meds, true, but I had no crippling illnesses and my job was tolerable.  I had no idea what a simple vacation, followed by a change of manager and new job responsibilities -- and now my having developed a tolerance for heretofore-effective sleep medications -- could do to my life, but the combined effect has been horrible.  None of my loved ones, friends, or acquaintances knows, or can know, what I'm going through.  A recent conversation with one of my brothers made me realize that most people, facing my afflictions and the resulting inability to bear even a moderate amount of physical or emotional stress, simply couldn't function at all; however, it's small comfort that I can still do so at some diminished level of rapacity...er, capacity.

[Update 6/29/11: I received word this week that a former co-worker of mine dropped dead from a massive heart attack last Saturday, the day his family had planned to have a party to celebrate his son's college graduation.  (I'm reminded that my father died on our oldest daughter's wedding day in 1997.)  I wonder if I could be next in line for the same or a similar fate.]

The Mother Road

Aztec Motel - Before Demolition

Aztec Motel - During Demolition

 

Central Ave. in September 1963

I've always felt a vaguely romantic attachment to Route 66 (John Steinbeck's "Mother Road") and the role it played in the westward migration of Americans from the 1920s on through the 1960s, or when the Interstate highway system came of age.  I've never really understood the evolution of Route 66, although I know that at various stages it had some weird, round-about deviations on its way through New Mexico -- a prime example being that it once went down Isleta Blvd. in the South Valley, and on south to Los Lunas, before it angled northwest and headed toward Grants, Gallup, and the Arizona border.  My father drove bus for Greyhound for some 37 years, and he spent most of that time driving back and forth between Albuquerque and Flagstaff along a very desert-y stretch of Route 66 (and later I-40).  He could say without exaggeration that he knew every bump in the road.  

Before the creation in 1962 of the first freeways in Albuquerque, the primary east-west artery through town was Central Avenue -- US 66 -- along which can still be seen various old motels, storefronts, and even filling stations that date to that era.  Obviously, over time the construction of I-40 sounded the death knell for Central as a stopping-off place for interstate travelers (except for its motel-dotted far-east end, where it intersects with Tramway Blvd. near I-40 -- which intersection is now a prime gathering point for transients with few means and sometimes-running cars); however, even today one can almost feel the presence of ghosts from bygone decades as one drives along East Central.  Most of the old Route 66 motels became fleabags wherein prostitutes often plied their trade, but it's difficult for any long-time resident of Albuquerque not to feel fond of these motels and wish for their preservation.  Thus it was with some sadness that I read recently about the razing of the Aztec Motel, which, in addition to being an old Route 66 motel, had become a landmark for another reason: the plastering on its walls of various bottles, hubcaps, and other neighborhood detritus that lent it an eccentric charm all its own. The two photos above of the Aztec show it prior to its end and as the demolition was commencing.

The third photo is taken from my high school's 1964 yearbook and shows the school's marching band in the State Fair parade in September 1963 (i.e., two-plus months before the JFK assassination).  In the photo, the band is heading west along Central, probably in the vicinity of Louisiana Blvd.  It's fascinating to see what even a small segment of Central looked like in the early 60s!  Note the "US 66" road sign, the old motel and Shamrock gas station in the background, the presence of what must have been (at that time) very stylish late-model cars, and the sign advertising a pizza joint one mile east.  (My mother always took us to see the State Fair parade -- and thus I probably watched this very parade at the age of four -- although we generally parked somewhere near the Fair Plaza shopping center [what we would now call a strip mall] and watched as the parade winded back east along Lomas Blvd.)

The National Park Service has a website on the history of Route 66 that contains various historical photos of sites on New Mexico.  I plan to read all of it soon.

[Update 7/8/11: The NPS website notes that it was in 1937 that Route 66 was significantly shortened, by 100+ miles, as it passed through New Mexico.  Prior to that time, the route took a big "S" through the state, heading northwest from Santa Rosa and coming back through Santa Fe, then passing through Albuquerque in a southerly direction to Los Lunas and then going northwest to the Laguna Pueblo, where it finally turned west again.  (The highway segment that connected Los Lunas and Laguna still exists, although for a long time I thought it to be of recent vintage, presuming it was built to allow judges and other public officials to drive back and forth between Grants and Los Lunas -- which are county seats located in the same judicial district -- without having to go through Albuquerque.  I'm sure that savvy people still use it to bypass Albuquerque, if they're south of town and want to go west, or if they're west of town and want to go south.)  Thus Central Avenue became part of Route 66 in 1937 and then all the motels started springing up.]

Me at Echo Amphitheater, 1963

[Update 1/30/12: Here's a picture of me in almost the exact time-frame in which the "State Fair parade" photo above was taken (when I was four years old).  We were at Echo Amphitheater, located between Abiquiu and Tierra Amarilla in northern New Mexico.  (Inasmuch as my family went to Echo Amphitheater in 1963 at about the same time we went to El Morro National Monument, for years I conflated the two in my mind.  It wasn't until we finally went back to Echo Amphitheater, around 1976, that I was disabused of the notion that Echo Amphitheater had a large, spooky green pool of water -- whereas El Morro, as I knew by then, did have such a pool.)  Ironically, nowadays we pass by Echo Amphitheater every time we go to the cabin (which is near Pagosa Springs, CO), although we haven't bothered to stop there in a number of years.]

Western Skies Hotel, ca. 1959

[Update 5/26/12: This aerial photo comes from an old postcard I bought on the Internet.  It shows the Western Skies Hotel -- the last (and easily the greatest) of the Route 66 lodges to go up in Albuquerque before the advent of I-40 -- which used to be located at the far eastern end of Central Avenue.  (Route 66 is the divided highway at the bottom right.)  The hotel, which opened in early 1959 according to contemporaneous newspaper articles, was still there when I was in high school; I think it was torn down sometime in the early 1980s.  It once must have been considered the nicest hotel in Albuquerque, as President John F. Kennedy and his wife Jackie stayed there when they came to town in December 1962.  In fact, when I was a senior in high school (in the fall of 1976), I liked a girl in our ward named Peggy C____, who actually lived for a time in the Western Skies presidential suite with her family.  (I remember the door still bore a plaque stating that JFK had stayed there.)

Sheraton Western Skies, ca. 1970

Here's a second view of the Western Skies, circa 1970, by which time Sheraton had bought out the original owners.  (Note the lighter-colored roof and the mascot atop the adjacent Standard station.)  There is now a Smith's grocery store where the Western Skies once was located.]

[Update 6/3/12: Here's a current-day Google Earth view of the eastern end of Central Ave.  The Smith's store -- the former site of the Western Skies -- is the large white-roofed building just right of and below the center of the image.  There is still a gas station across the street, where the Standard station appears in the vintage-1970 photo above.  Note where Central diverges from I-40; the curving road going north, passing under I-40, is Tramway Blvd.]

[Update 10/25/15:  Here is a cool photo of Central Avenue, circa 1970, looking east from Carlisle Blvd.]

HIke to South Sandia Peak

Our Route - clockwise loop, starting from lower right

I took my "killer" hike yesterday up to South Sandia Peak with Darren and John Brewer.  We started at Canyon Estates (in/near the village of Tijeras, east of Albuquerque), hiking on the South Crest Trail all the way to the upper terminus of the Embudito Trail, then making our way up to South Sandia Peak, and finally hiking down the "CCC Route" to its lower terminus and then back to our starting point.  I wasn't sure how I'd do, but I hung in pretty well; in fact, when the hike was over, it seemed like getting up to South Peak was the easy part, whereas hiking down the extremely steep "CCC Route" took a much-greater toll on me. (Two years ago, John and I hiked up the "CCC Route" on our way to South Peak; I wonder now how I did it, except that my health was better then.)  The only disappointment of the day was arriving at South Sandia Spring and finding it dry; I'd taken along a water filter for the express purpose of having a nice drink of cold spring water, but to no avail.

Anyway, given that I'd wondered if I'd ever see South Peak again, it was especially gratifying to be there and then to hike off the back of the Peak through the cool little canyon and aspen grove there.  I have to say now that South Crest is probably the easiest route to get to South Peak; it's certainly less difficult than any route on the west side of the Sandias.  I can't say what other "long" hikes I'm capable of -- I'm definitely having second thoughts about ever hiking up Chimney Canyon again -- but hiking up and back down the La Luz Trail proper is feasible.

Darren on the South Crest Trail

John in the Aspen Grove East of South Sandia Peak

Darren and I on the South Crest Trail

[Update 6/13/11: I've realized that this map also contains the site of Darren's 2005 Eagle Scout service project -- Carlito Spring, which is just to the southwest of Canyon Estates as the crow flies.]

[Update 6/14/11: I remember that the young men/scouts from our ward spent two nights at Deer Pass, just west from where the Embudito Trail cuts off South Crest, in April 2001 (see the unfortunately fuzzy photo below, taken at South Peak).  Chad Twitchell hiked with the older boys, who were training for their trip to the Philmont Scout Ranch that summer, with full packs all the way from our church building on Indian School Rd. to Deer Pass via Embudo Canyon. (Brutal!)  John Brewer and I took the younger boys (including Darren and John's son Steven) up the Cañoncito Trail on the east side of the range, then south on the Crest Trail, meeting up with the others near Deer Pass.  We had to decide whether to camp on the meadow just south of South Peak or at Deer Pass; ultimately we chose the latter, which turned out to be a wise decision, and for a very simple reason: it put us that much closer to South Sandia Spring, the only source of water in the vicinity.  The spring was still over a mile away, and I can remember having to shuttle down there four or five times for water while we were camped at Deer Pass.  If the spring had been dry then like it was last Friday, we'd have been hurting.  In this photo (taken by Chad Twitchell): Jordan Roper, Steven Brewer, John Brewer, Landon Roper, Rob Pulsipher, Brandon Schofield, David Griffin, me, Brent Phelps, Lance Schofield, Michael Griffin, Curtis Twitchell, Paul Twitchell, and Darren Kartchner.  (Darren and I are the ones with the blue-camouflage boonie hats.)]

Troop 206 at South Sandia Peak, 4/13/01

[Update 6/19/11: Due to the perceived fire hazard caused by the dry conditions this year, the Forest Service has now closed all the hiking trails in the Sandias for the rest of the summer and part of the fall.  I guess it was a good thing we didn't wait to take our South Peak hike.]

Hike to the Head of Whitewash Canyon

The South Foothills of the Sandia Mountains

I took another hike on Sunday, May 29, 2011, this time going by myself and starting at the far eastern end of Menaul Blvd. and taking what the guidebook calls the "Whitewash Trail" (which is sort of a misnomer inasmuch as it neither follows Whitewash [i.e., Piedra Lisa] Canyon nor is much of a trail).  I only intended to go as far as the first little promontory at the head of Whitewash Canyon, and I was able to ascend that high, although the weather was hot and the steepness of the route -- it gains 2,000' in elevation in two miles' horizontal distance -- had me huffing and puffing most of the way.  (The route passes through the site of a brush fire that happened a couple of months ago, which was reportedly caused by people lighting fireworks.)  The saving factor for me was the 25-30 mph wind that was blowing, which kept me pretty cool.  The map above shows both the route I took this week and the hike that Darren and I did last week to the "Eye of the Sandias."  (My next Sunday-afternoon hike will probably take me up Embudo Canyon, located in between my last two routes.)

Looking North

Looking South

[Update 6/6/11: I took a hike up Embudo Canyon yesterday afternoon. I started at the open space parking lot at the end of Indian School Rd. and hiked up past what I call "the narrows" into the wider eastern end of the canyon, turning around at the start of the rocky switchbacks that lead to the junction with the Three Gun Spring Trail. It was a pretty easy hike compared with the last two that I did, but "two miles up and two miles back" seems to be a pretty good length for a Sunday-afternoon hike.  I'll probably start moving north for additional hikes. Note that I have modified the attached illustration to add the Embudo Canyon route that I took yesterday.]

Hike with Darren to the "Eye of the Sandias"

I've been telling my therapist (in the employee assistance program at work) for several weeks that I would start taking short hikes on Sunday afternoons, after church, just to be able to do something "healing" for myself every week.  (We'd discussed at length what I could do as a "restorative" measure, and hiking was about the only thing I could do regularly that wouldn't cost a lot of money.)  Unfortunately, I've found that it's much easier to stay on the couch than to get off it, particularly on Sundays -- and especially with the fatigue that my chronic dizziness causes -- so the psychologist, the internist, and the sleep tech had to gang up on me last week to shame me into going hiking, finally.  I'd picked out the first hike I wanted to do, which was to hike up to the "Eye of the Sandias," a "quirky landmark" mentioned in Mike Coltrin's Sandia Mountain Hiking Guide.  My brother-in-law Mike and I tried to find the "Eye" sometime back, but we got lost and finally turned around.  (We also weren't prepared for the difficulty of the hike -- the route is only two miles one-way, but it's very steep and loose in places.)  Anyway, Darren and I went and did the hike today (it's a good thing Darren went, as I would have become lost again otherwise); I had to stop a lot to catch my breath, but, really, I did surprisingly well, all things considered.  So well, in fact, that I think I can manage the next "killer" hike I'd like to do, which is to hike up the South Crest Trail to South Sandia Peak and then back down the "CCC" Route. The attached photos show me and Darren with the "Eye," which supposedly is a comment, first painted in the 1960s (and touched-up in 2002), on the encroachment of society on the Sandia Mountains.  (The Zia symbol in the "pupil" suggests a Native American origin or influence.)

[Update 10/24/11: I hiked up to the "Eye" again yesterday afternoon, this time by myself.  It was much easier to find the second time, although I'd already forgotten how long the hike was.]

Me and the "Eye"

View of I-40 from the "Eye"