Gilman Tunnels

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Twenty years ago, when I was training and racing bicycles with Kent Bostick, Kent would say “let’s do the three tunnels ride!” I would remind him that there were only two tunnels, he would say “Whatever!”, and we would ride from Corrales up to the Gilman Tunnels and back — a little over 100 miles.  Back then I remember there was virtually no traffic on NM 485, no graffiti and the pavement ended soon after we rode through the second tunnel and then the road became too rocky for us to ride on — which was significant, because we often rode our racing bikes on really rough roads. Last Saturday there was a lot of traffic, a lot of graffiti and the road looked to be in good shape well beyond the tunnels. However, the road might still become really rough as the 43 mile NM 485 to NM 4 loop seems to be a popular mountain bike ride.

The Gilman Tunnels were blasted out of the rock in the 1920’s to give passage to logging trains. I hear the tunnels were used most recently in the remake of The Lone Ranger that was released this summer. We discovered they are now a popular destination for weekend drivers enjoying the scenery, and bathers who like to relax in the many small pools in the Rio Guadalupe. There is even a Virgin de Guadalupe set on the graffitied rocks at the north end of the second tunnel to watch over the people who park, drink, play in the water, drink some more and then drive on to their next destination.

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Rio Guadalupe Canyon

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NM 485 becomes a one lane road as it enters Rio Guadalupe Canyon, so we parked on a wide pullout about 1/4 mile from the mouth of the canyon, and walked along the edge of the road into the canyon. After photographing the “Falling Rock” sign, I turned around to find a humming bird moth working the flowers in the brush behind me. The first guardrail along the road was covered with graffiti.

 

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On Highway 485

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Between Jemez Pueblo and Jemez Springs is the junction of NM 4 and NM 485. New Mexico 485 heads west and then north through Gilman and Port and reconnects with NM 4 north of La Cueva. The old adobe in Gilman has a red mud plaster from the red soils found in the Jemez. The red cliffs and prickly pear cactus are at the mouth of the Rio Guadalupe Canyon.

 

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Lost in Spam

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Spam is the scourge of the Internet age. I get one legitimate comment on this blog for every five spam comments, and only about one in 100 emails is legitimate. There are sometimes useful things like grasshopper tobacco cures cancer, miracle weight loss with urban sunflowers, and how to make yourself irresistible to women drivers. On the other hand, I hate Dr. Oz and even if a “Flex Able” hose is the “end all” for garden hoses, I would never buy one. Then there are the emails from DHL telling me there’s a problem with my package. I assume they are euphemistic male enhancement emails. But the spam messages that really get me are the ones notifying me I’ve been inducted, or more like abducted, into the “Who’s Who of Professional Women!” I’m not sure when I became an honorary woman, but I’m told I’m a “Who” among them according to the daily emails.  I guess I have no standing as a professional man since I have never received a notice of being a “Who” among men. As much as I mark these spam mails as spam, they just come double or triple — one or more to my in-box and the rest to my spam filter — keeping me lost in spam.

 

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A bee and wasp were foraging on the same plant, which I found interesting. The double-winged damselflies are out, and a tiny crab spider was hanging out on a red rose.

To show Sarah the ghost photo from last week, I searched for “Ghost” in the search field in the upper right-hand corner of the page which brought up “Ghost Under a Full Moon” followed by “Stretch 2004 — 2013 RIP”.  Sarah noticed that the ghost in the left-hand edge of the photo looks like the young Stretch in the photo below it from the search. The photo of the ghost was taken near Stretch’s grave.

 

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Macro Magic

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After another “Monday! Monday! Everything breaks on Monday!” Monday, I came home, got out the macro lens, and went out to see what the small world in the garden was up to. The most cooperative critters were Bartle Bee, Evil the Boll Weevil and a tiny, curly cucumber tail.

 

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A Monarch that Matters

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Apparently someone of the royal family in England had a baby recently who at some point might be in line to be a monarch. I see bits and pieces about this on Internet news, but I don’t pay enough attention to know who is who. I don’t really understand why the American news media finds reporting on the birth of this baby to be a higher priority than reporting on all the real issues we need to address in the US. We fought and won a war of independence against Britain over 200 year ago, so why all the hubbub and distractions over a baby who will never make a difference in our lives?

Now when it comes to a Monarch butterfly (who most people do not give a flying pheromone about) showing up in the early morning hours, teasing me in various areas of the property until it found a delicious echinacea to distract it long enough for me to get some decent photos, is at least blog worthy. Monarch butterflies migrate thousands of miles and pollinate plants making them quite useful. But unless you are a weirdo like me, you have probably followed more news on the baby British Monarch, than an orange an black winged Monarch butterfly fluttering around in your yard.

What was interesting about my Monarch photo shoot is that in the photos where I had full, bright, early morning sun, the butterfly glows in the bright light. In the photos were the clouds were blocking the sun, the photos are pastel and have a more painterly look to them.

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The Blog Before The Storm

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I took this photo just after midnight on Friday morning. It was so windy and so much rain on Friday night, that the lightning was never clear, just bright flashes and loud crashes. Since the clouds are building up again, I thought I better get the blog posted before the storm hits and we lose power again. We got home at 4:30 pm yesterday and by the clocks that keep a memory of the time they went off, the power had been restored just an hour before we got home, which, if correct, means we were without power for 21 hours. The June bugs and roses are happy after the heavy rains, and Rosencrantz was enjoying a patch of catnip in the late afternoon light that was falling between the thunderheads building up in the western skies.

 

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