Wednesday, April 6
Leavetaking . . .

Taking time to imagine the best possible final evening of our stay at Roper Lake . . . oh never mind, no need at all . . . .the reality is so much better than anything I could have conjured. A sweater afternoon culminated an all-day storm-clouded sky and made a dip in the hot spring sound most appealing. The hot tub at the park is a stone pool about ten feet across carved out of the ground so that when fully immersed, one’s head pokes up above ground level just enough to allow admiration of the desert trees and shrubs all around.

Mount Graham has disappeared completely and the huge jagged peaks that make up its foothills are shrouded in mist - rain or snow. We have the hot spring to ourselves; it is a perfect evening meditation, soothing our bodies and quieting our minds.Having heard no news for a week, we can nevertheless see that rain is imminent, so bring in the camp chairs, awning and rugs in anticipation and will spend the remainder of the evening safely and warmly tucked inside.

Emmy Lou Harris sings us down the road this morning as we turn our noses westward toward Green Valley. Much of this traverse is on interstate which we avoid as much as possible, preferring to make our way on back roads and byways. We do keep the trailer on pavement, though, so as not to shake it to pieces, reserving dirt roading for the Toter alone.

Last night’s storm dissipated without dropping more than a splatter on our campsite. The residual clouds darkened Graham’s forward peaks and revealed the mountain itself to be nearly devoid of snow now - presumably rain melted most of the winter’s final snowpack.Yesterday was a not-feel-so-good day. I was overcome with drowsiness as if I were recovering from the flu that I never had, so as Benjamin Franklin only half recommended, I was early to bed and late to rise. Feeling much better today, thank you very much.

Pre-pit stop . . .

Planning a pit stop along our way today, we unfortunately chose an exit under construction. By itself, that would not have been a problem, but a truck in front of us broke down in the midst of his turn, backing traffic way the heck down the interstate. I thanked the heavens that I was not that truck driver, who seemed to be in quite a panic over his dilemma. At least there were plenty of construction workers around to help him mill around. It appeared that when he opened his hood, the engine would work and when he closed it, it ceased running. Finally, they guided him out of his stalemate while he drove with the hood open, an interesting maneuver, luckily just a short one to get him out of the road.Green Valley . . .

We easily locate our new parking place, Green Valley RV Resort, and are led to our space by Herb, a nice little man in a golf cart. The park is akin to the one we have used in Tucson, lots of permanent setups - probably primarily seasonal - some park models and RV spaces. All very nice, clubhouse filled with folks doing jigsaw puzzles, ladies sewing away (quilting?) on their machines, others lolling in the sunshine by the pool and jacuzzi, others walking here and there - all very friendly and with full hookups.

That last is a big deal because now we can use water in a more normal manner instead of extreme conservation to avoid filling the tanks. At the state park and other places with only water and electric, the tanks can only be emptied at the exit so caution is the name of the game.

I take full advantage here and go into overdrive with cleaning thoroughly, a dire need after the past week in dusty digs with zero cleaning. Follow that up with a shower at the park’s facility (sure beats bathing utilizing our seven-gallon water heater) and all is well. Chris works hard at getting our shepherd’s hook into the caliche soil so we can hang our bird feeders. The awning unrolled, patio rugs put down, chairs and table set up outside and we are home. Surprisingly, this place provides nice patio slabs but no picnic tables, so meals will be inside.

Visiting . . .

The day’s routine of moving improved instantly with the arrival of Norma and George for an evening of visiting and dining. Root beer floats, purple cows and o.j. started us off, cooled us down and got us ready for a meal of spaghetti and salad, seemingly enjoyed by all.The logistics of preparing meals in our meager kitchen space has evolved so that we have become fairly proficient as long as we remember our limitations.

How nice to have time to catch up with our friends. Seems knee replacements are all the rage these days (I’ve lost count of how many people I know running around with bionic joints) and George is soon to join their ranks.

Weather cooling drastically, we all don sweaters for our evening outside after supper - time to catch up and reminisce.

Saturday brings Barb and Jim come to pick us up for a day in the mountains. Uncooperative weather causes adjustments to planned activities. Hikes in the open give way to canyon birding in order to avoid howling wind as much as possible. Madera Canyon in the Santa Ritas provided a somewhat sheltered interesting and beautiful place to spend our day.Eureka! . . .

The day’s birding began with a whimper and built to a bang with the sighting of our first life bird of the trip - an elegant trogan! What a beautiful bird, and what a thrill to see it not once but twice in different places and for extended periods. Without a doubt, we would have walked right on past him (he hunches down on a branch and moves not a muscle), but a man and his daughter had spied him and were photographing as we approached.By day’s end, we had garnered another life bird - hepatic tanager - and a bunch of other trip birds. The canyon is renowned for the variety of species within its confines. Several lodges hang multiple feeders out for their guests’ pleasure.

Also added to the trip list are: Gila woodpecker, wild (in this case, not very) turkeys, white-breasted nuthatch, painted redstart, hermit thrush, ruby-crowned kinglet, acorn woodpecker, Scott’s oriole, black-headed grosbeak, pine siskin, broad-billed hummingbird, bridled titmouse, chipping sparrow, Mexican jay, lazuli bunting, broad-tailed hummingbird, cedar waxwing, Wilson’s warbler, canyon towhee, Bullock’s oriole and canyon wren.

Frogs and food . . .

As we wandered off-trail and down the route of a small canyon-bottom creek, we discovered the most intriguing tiny frogs that hid chameleon-like in depressions on granite boulders. Each one picked pocks that matched its size, blending in so that they became nearly impossible to see.Wind-blasted, we made our way home to showers and a change of clothes before the six of us met up for an excellent supper at Manuel’s, a popular raucous dining establishment, then retired to our house for swapping stories of adventures past and yet-to-be.