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Ah yes.. Corporate saving money...

"The tires look a bit dry rotted, can I submit for replacement?" I asked. "No, we have to keep OPEX down these days" was Management's reply. I shrugged my shoulders, and jumped in the truck.

Heading down Interstate 10, you are met with a long stretch of, I don't know, not much of anything, I guess. Dirt, rugged mountains, cactus, tumbleweeds, lizards. Same as all the long highways here. This journey was to concur Cunningham Mountain then Guadalupe Mountain to test out some old crusty amplifiers. The rocky trail up to Cunningham Mountain is a nemesis for a lot of people. There have been lost souls on that hill, and some folks that embrace this slice of wilderness that few ever see. This hill doesn't scare me, but I do respect it. It was in better shape than I've ever seen the day we took the sturdy Tundra up it. We typically haul the ATV out for this 3305' climb, but today as steep as it is, the path was smoothed out from recent concrete work. Guadalupe Mountain at 2555' should be a breeze after that one. Right? Well the actual road is all concrete now, so outside of some hairy points where the concrete ripped into shards leaving large crevasses, it really was an easy short trip up. We took a couple of sweep tests to see of the amplifier filters were breaking down, packed the gear up and headed down the hill.

Fist rule of thumb, if you pop a tire, keep rolling until you get to flat land for jacking. If you pop two, well you'll need turn around space for the flatbed truck from California to come get you. If nothing else, you retain a great sense of humor as you are being dragged to California for 2 brand new tires. Since the fleet service company would only replace the ones that popped, I guess you need to wait a few weeks to see where the next rest pop! Saving OPEX, and laughing all the way!

One spare tire just isn't gonna work!

Two Guns, A bunch of ruins, and a Souvenir...

I got pulled over. I was driving too fast on I-40 on the way to Winslow. Of course, I didn't admit that to the fine highway patrolman. As he stated in his mandatory firm tone, that I was traveling at a criminal speed, he expressed that he would only give me a warning. I really do love it when they give me souvenirs instead of fines. Anyhow, as the po-po turned and walked the off ramp back to his car, I was told that I was incredibly good. And lucky. I looked past the passenger's seat to the cold horizon and with the Mountain Lion sign in view, I had decided it was time to get out of the truck and stretch.


Ruins. More ruins. Beyond them, more ruins. The first set of ruins had old gas pumps. The kind that you see folks haggle over on American Pickers. I still regret not grabbing a piece of mangled pump, but there was no room in the truck. These were from after the last move around 1938. 

The pumps remnants were long gone by the time I went back there. I found out later that the zoo moved as route 66 moved. The whole story is pretty well documented at: http://www.hkhinc.com/arizona/twoguns/richardson.htm.

I've been back to explore the ruins a few more times and love to wander around thinking of what may have been happening in the area in it's heyday. 

The Two Guns exit on I-40 east of Flagstaff hosts a number of abandoned structures including an old gas station, a KOA Camp Ground, and ruins of old structures that were abandoned over the years. Just use some caution, the abandoned buildings aren't always that abandoned. This is a great piece of American Route 66 history sitting quietly next to the interstate. 




 
 
https://roadtrippers.com/us/winslow-az/points-of-interest/abandoned-two-guns-koa-campground-store

Two Guns  http://hikearizona.com/decoder.php?ZTN=16483

Re-charging My Batteries

 Solar powered  site North of Flagstaff Arizona

Outside calls me. Quite often. Loudly. OUTSIDE was actually a recent New Year's goal since I couldn't think of a better one. It worked out pretty good considering the years I spent in a cube, or a meeting room wishing to be outside. It can be an awful tease in March to see all the fans at the A's Spring Training facility from the conference room window. I am getting better at penciling in time off during those weeks. It makes for good therapy.

Starting with a long cold dark hike off a mountain north of Flagstaff in January (the vehicle had technical difficulties), the goal was quickly met over and over, throughout the year. Up mountains, over highways, through long valleys, I enjoyed every last ounce of my job to plan, build, audit, and turn up new sites for the network. So much so, that the act of getting to all of these corners of Arizona was the re-charge needed from the endless emails, software updates, and databases that needed updating. Nice work if you can get it! Now if I can just remember to keep the camera phone batteries charged up...


Follow Dee's board The world is not in your maps or books, it is out there... on Pinterest.


 

Ramblings from a Human Compass

Me wandering near Oak Creek

I host an internal compass. Born with it. I remember long before there were any seat belt laws, lying down in the back of Mom's wood-sided pinto wagon, coming back from Nana's at night, and I could tell when she took a wrong turn just from watching the power lines and street lights. I would shoot up and get her back on track for the 30 mile trip between East Boston and Tewksbury. This happened quite a bit between ages eight and getting my license, and it turned out to be a nice natural talent to have.

My internal compass has treated me well, starting with long bike trips to my Dad's apartment on the weekends, hiking all over, continuing with road trips with friends after getting my license, and leading to the job of a lifetime. I got paid to roam around scouting and designing the network for several years. Mastered that one.

Brad challenged my ninja skills one day on a site walk. He was a contractor that I was harassing for not bringing any tools, and he was definitely wearing the wrong shoes. Who wears loafers in the middle of the desert? "So which way is North?" he says. I point confidently to North, and pull out my trusty Suunto pocket compass to verify my determination. Jef and Ken were laughing at Brad for doubting me. Next time I saw Brad on a site walk, he had boots on and a new expensive watch with a compass.

Who wears loafers in the middle of the desert?

My sister refers to me as the Dee-Dee (her replacement to the Tom-Tom). Mom just hands me her keys. My husband still thanks me for not just leaving him in Mexico. He insists he would still be trying to find his way back...