Next Up --- Davenport Iowa!

Oh Boy! Here I go.....another trip!!!

This is a glorious road trip (not balloons) to the enchanted "Quad Cities" area staying two nights in delightful Davenport, Iowa, home of the Quad City "River Bandits" minor league baseball team. They are a single-A affiliate of the St. Louis Cardinals. In 1989 Jim Edmonds played for the Quad City Angels, a former incarnation of the team, and somehow seemed to go relatively unnoticed.

This being my birthday week I will be doing some celebrating....just how remains to be seen. I will be meeting Gene there so anything is possible.

As an update to my earlier posts....I am now the proud owner of a building lot in New Mexico. If you were a turtle or a snail you might consider it a ranch but I have to admit, at 1/2 acre it is a pretty small spread. My plan is to hold on to it for a while and then build a house and move out to the ranch in a year or two.

******************************************************************

Wrap-up, reflections, etc.

I've been home for a couple days. Back in my own bed at last. Most of the trip was enjoyable and I got to do pretty much what I wanted to do and still found the property I wanted to buy. I just don't like being chained to a cell phone or a FAX machine...but that is pretty much over. I have to admit the cell phone finally came in handy.

I still haven't found an unfriendly person out there. I've found a couple incompetent people....but never mind. As bad as they were they can't hold a candle to the incompetence of Capital One...(Ken...don't go there...).

The house project is bumping along. I will update my other blog on the developments there...check http://kens-gazette.blogspot.com/ if you are interested. I still don't have a final close date. I am very happy with my builder (Betty) and my agent (Donna) and how they have helped me with all of this. The real business is still ahead but I think it will go OK. Betty has the contacts to get things done when it needs to be done. I have to keep up.

The Ackermann family reunion was nice on Sunday and I'm glad I came back early for it. Bob had to work so he and Pat couldn't be there. Bobby didn't come so Jill and I were the only ones representing Rose's branch. Jill is the Ackermann..I'm just a hanger-on.

The aunts and uncles were looking pretty good and the weather wasn't too hot so that helped everybody. Aunt Ruthie and Uncle Johnny looked better than I remember from two years ago. Anne/Booie was in top form with a bright yellow umbrella. Don was doing OK but I didn't get to talk to Joanne much. Dot seemed a little tired to me and Eddie was on a walker due to a recent hip replacement. He is on the mend but had a really bad year. I think Johnny might be my new role model as I grow older. I guess Bob is now sort of the patriarch of the second generation. I think there are five generations now.

My next trip (or trips) will probably be back to New Mexico until I get things going out there. I still want to go other places (Belize, anyone? Spain?) so I might get to sneak one in to someplace else.




The picture shows a long view of the Santa Ana Pueblo lands from my building lot. This won't be developed...in my lifetime, anyway.

Heading home

Another beautiful day. You would never know there was a storm anywhere close yesterday. I'm still mulling over my land options and drove back up to the lot and looked at others that were for sale and got ten phone numbers for similar lots. Most of these do not show up on the internet MLS pages since they are offered by private parties or smaller agents. While I was driving around I found a house that is on one of the side streets. I didn't think anyone had built up there yet -- but this looked like it was a couple years old. I still like the lot I picked out.



It is time to go home. I got the car returned and got to the airport in plenty of time. I've been timing my driving to see how long it takes to get around in the city. It is about a half hour from Bernalillo to the airport (at noon). Traffic at 5:30 to 6:30 PM is pretty heavy on the interstate so it would take much longer then. There are 19 Albuquerque exits on I-25 and the airport is on the far side of town.


The flight from Albuquerque to Denver was rough. Big storms had flared up over the mountains so we had to climb up to over 34,000 feet really fast and by then we were halfway to Denver so we had to pick our way through the storms and get back down. It is only an hour flight so even in calm weather the cabin crew has to hustle to get everyone their freebee sodas and peanuts but these people were in a frenzy because the pilot kept making them sit down.

The four hour layover in Denver was uneventful so I began making random phone calls to people. I also watched the people in the airport. Back in Beaver Cleaver's day people got dressed up to go on an airplane trip. Not now. One guy was travelling in a tee shirt and pajama pants. Being a Saturday in the summer there were lots of families with little kids. The kids had Mickey Mouse ears or the Sorcerer's Apprentice hats. A lot of little kids were on leashes so they don't wander away. I guess that's OK but I don't think I could ever have put Jill on a leash. It just seems a little dehumanizing to me.

Oh -- and the Boy Scouts were everywhere. I guess it is the Philmont scout camp trip that they were on...either coming or going. There were a few going through security at Albuquerque when I did (heading home from Philmont) and the leaders were having to keep them all together and wait for the poor kid with too much stuff or too many medals. Actually the kids looked pretty sharp: the leaders looked like they were beat.

We were delayed 20 minutes leaving Denver but we still got to St. Louis 20 minutes early so the pilot must have found a short cut somehow. It was midnight when I got to the motel. The Watoto Children's Choir bus is on the lot so this might be interesting.

Enough for now. I'll be home tomorrow night (Sunday) and I wonder how tall the grass is.

Desert Storm

I got packed up and managed to have all my business finished and was on the road by 11:15. The road over the mountains from Angel Fire to Taos is pretty bad...narrow, twisty and no shoulder. The speed limit varies but is 25 mph a lot of the way. I came around a bend and somebody had driven their pick-up into a rock wall and the road was full of people trying to get him and his truck off the road. It was raining a little when I left and there were some wet patches on the road so that might be what happened. I decided not to take the "high road" down toward Santa Fe and just got back on the highway the way that I came up.

I did stop in Ranchos de Toas, a little village south of the town of Taos. This is where the famous church is located -- San Francisco de Assis. The church was being re-mudded, which is something that I wanted to see anyway. The church is solidly built and has a certain presence that causes you to stop in your tracks. This is the church Ansel Adams photographed in black and white back in his heyday (Not the one at Taos Pueblo). The work crew was on lunch break so I got a few pictures. They say the mud dries in about a day but has to cure for several days without rain. I think they picked a bad day. The local padre was sitting out on a bench talking with the workers and they decided that they needed more mud. The contractor thought he could get some but the padre might have to tell the supplier that he would be two steps closer to heaven if he supplied the mud. While sitting there it dawned on me that almost exactly four years ago we were at the basilica of St. Francis in Assisi.

Ranchos de Taos is not the tourist trap that Taos is. In fact, it looks like a real rural village with little houses and gardens. There is a small plaza by the church but the shops sell mostly religious items. There was a sentinel dog perched up on his wall watching all of the activity and pretty much bored with what he saw.

I stopped along the highway to take a better look at the Rio Grande -- the portion they do raft trips on. Some of it looks fast but not too rough and then there are places that look pretty bad. I understand that it is common for whole boats to be overturned or swamped but the river is narrow enough that people can reach the shore if they can't get back in the boat.

The storm finally caught up with me between Santa Fe and Bernalillo. Wind, rain. hail, tumbleweed, dust and sand all were coming down at once. It was pretty fierce for a while and there are still storms in the area but where I am now there was no rain.

We are at sort of a stalemate on the land counter offers. I'll need to rethink my offer and decide what I want to do. I'll check and see what other lots are going for and see if I'm being unreasonable. I know it is still a good deal but I got a little irritated with the seller and that might be my problem at this point...and that isn't a good reason to pass it up. I'll get an extention on my decision deadline and give it some more thought since I don't have to have it decided while I'm here.

El trapo de las turistas

I spent most of the day in Taos. It is a smaller version of Santa Fe in many respects. If you spit you hit a gallery of some sort…and there are all sorts of galleries. Pottery, weaving, sculpture, stonework, and all kinds of paintings and prints are available just about everywhere. The plaza has a bunch of “trading post” and “mercantile” stores that sell rubber tomahawks and other trinkets. Also lots of Indian jewelry is on display on a number of stores and it all seems to be authentic…not Chinese. Some of the jewelry is so big that you would need to build up your muscles to be able to wear it. There were a few places that actually had real stuff: rugs from the 1930s, early jewelry and some older pottery that has been actually used as pottery.

Taos was also a popular place with the flower children in the 1960s and 1970s and many are still here – as storekeepers. At one time there were two large communes nearby and it has become time for sort of a nostalgic walk down memory lane. A couple books have been written about the communes and what happened to them over the years. Apparently they have homecomings from time to time.

I went to the historic Hacienda de los Martinez, a house museum a little way out of town. It was built around 1805 as a fortified residence of twenty-one rooms around two small placitas or courtyards. About half of the structure is original with the rest being rebuilt on the original foundations. The original owner, Severino Martinez, was a trader and was on the receiving end of the Santa Fe Trail and also traded south into Mexico. The hacienda was fortified with two foot thick walls in case of possible Indian attack – from the Comanches, not the local pueblo tribes. Apparently there was never any recorded attack. He had over a thousand sheep and many cattle, horses, mules and oxen so if the Indians did attack it would have taken a while to get through the livestock to the actual hacienda. It is an impressive place and probably supported a large number of people at the time. One of the rooms is a chapel that served the family and the surrounding neighbors.

I went back to Taos Pueblo to pick up something that I decided I wanted. I should have bought it when I saw it because I can’t find my way around the pueblo. I couldn't live there because once you are in the actual pueblo every direction you turn looks the same. You have to come out and find the river and then go back in once you have your bearings. They give you a little map but that doesn’t help once you lose sight of the church or the river.

The seemingly never-ending negotiations continue on the property. I suspect that this will still be going on after I’m home. I wonder what they want for this fixer-upper?

That’s all for now. Tomorrow I head back to Albuquerque.

Here Fishy Fishy

I had to make a couple phone calls about the property business this morning. I must be asking for too much. First, nobody knows what to do about the trust….even though I tell them what it is and how it has to be recorded, they still don’t get it. Secondly, there will be some closing costs even though I’m trying to do a cash purchase. Recording fees and title insurance at least but nobody seems to know how much that will run because they never seem to deal with a cash purchase. It will work out. The title company will handle the closing and we will find out from them.


The rest of the day was fishing. I drove about 15 miles to the Cimarron River canyon and fished there for about six hours. It was not crowded and I actually caught three fish on nymph flies (bead head). That is a very pretty place; even if you don’t catch anything it is still a nice place to spend a day. The weather was nice but the wind came up a little so I spent a good amount of time getting untangled from trees and bushes. There is a lot of color variation in the same species of fish, maybe based on what they eat or what is in the water. These fish were very dark in color compared to what we have at home.


One feature of the Cimarron Canyon that is especially striking is the Palisade Sill, a 27 million year old mass of volcanic rock that was intruded into older sedimentary rock. Apparently there is some debate among geologists on exactly what type of rock it is so I'll wait until that is settled and update you all later on that topic. They don't allow rock climbing. It looks like it would be a favorite place for rock climbers

When I got home the maid had been at my place. I think she came in about 15 feet and then backed out because all of the towels and things were stacked in the kitchen. (C’mon, I’m not that messy.) The condo is actually pretty nice and very quiet. I have neighbors but I don’t hear them…except the two boys a couple doors down who brought their pellet gun with them on vacation. They get bored in the evenings and mom & dad send them out with the pellet gun. So far, we have no casualties or damage that I know of.

That’s about it. I’m a little pooped.


Your correspondent

Vrooom Vrooom

I checked out the neighborhood today. I can’t go too far from the fax machine until I can get the property counter offer worked out and sent. The hotel has a fax but they are not likely to watch it so I have to check with them every few hours. I watched parts of the Italy vs. France Euro Cup match…Italy won and now goes to the quarterfinals. France is eliminated.

The motorcycle club guys are still here and I finally got some pictures. I didn’t know John Deere made motorcycles. There are also some BMWs and a Moto Guzzi and a number of side car bikes. There is one with two front wheels but they say it isn’t old. I saw a bunch of Indians and old Harleys. The Henderson was hard to find but I finally got a picture...it really looks different. I'm surprised at all the configurations of sidecars. Most of the club members are in their fifties or late forties with a few older. When I'm walking aroun d taking pictures people wander up and ask me "What does this lever do? Is that a double reduction?" (Huh?) More pictures below.

I drove up to the New Mexico Viet Nam Veterans Memorial, about three miles up the highway. It was the first Viet Nam memorial in the US and is really very moving. They have a small chapel and a small museum along with a few bronze statues and a helicopter. A doctor from this area lost his son in Viet Nam and started a foundation that now supports the memorial. You can buy a memorial brick for a walk way they are building. I will do that for a friend of mine that made it only a week over there. There were a number of people there even though it is sort of an unknown and out of the way place.

I’m looking for a place to fish if I can get a half day away from the hotel area and the fax machine. I drove up to Eagles Nest and got a fishing license and a bunch of advice. The Cimarron River is close by and is a state park with plenty of access. There is also a large lake at Eagles Nest that also is a state park. So, it looks like I might have a chance to fish before I get out of here.

Update -- June 27

I was filling out the paper work to buy a memorial brick for Rick Gudiswitz and checked to make sure I had the spelling and details correct. Rick died in Viet Nam on June 18, 1970, thirty-eight years ago, minus one day, from the day I visited the memorial. Things like this have been happening to me a lot. Rick was a member of a motorcycle club, OK, maybe a gang, but he was a good friend and he sure took care of his Harley. By now, he would have been a proud member of the antique motorcycle club.