Day 8: Note to Self
"Note to self"...
On the 2018 Prefrontal Tour I'd say that 20 times per day, or every time I saw something I wanted to remember for my daily update. But now thanks to Google and their ever-shifting landscape of features and products, I have to say "Add to my shopping list", and hope that Google actually transcribes my voice and stores it away. The success rate has been between 10 and 80 percent, depending on cellular service.
As you can tell from the varied list of topics I cover, (and some of the more interesting topics that don't make the update), whoever at Google and the NSA is assigned to monitor my account is probably wondering what the hell I'm up to. Today, for instance, I added yaks and llamas to the list of large mammals we've seen, and in that vein I created a quiz for the 2019 Prefrontal Tour (no search engines allowed)...
What species is the DEER XING sign, most likely?
How many points on the rack of the 2D deer?
BONUS: Why is the DEER XING sign the only one to show the animal in question in high speed motion, i.e. not standing or walking?
We saw plenty of those signs today and even more cattle signs as we started out the day in Utah, or what I affectionately call "the Police state", winding along scenic roads with speed limits of 60 to 80 miles per hour. But every municipality has a radar sign at the edge of town and the speed limit plummets to 40. And there on Main Street, sitting in the only spot of shade, is the committed constabulary - new car, radar, and a disappointed look as we toodle past at 35.
We skirted Bryce and Zion Canyons, passing through the town of Tropic at a cool 50 degrees, heated grips set back to STUN. We crossed into the Dixie National Forest at 7,777 feet of elevation and as we crested the lip and dropped into Bryce we noted the "Road Damage" sign. We've been marveling at these signs since Kansas, because the few we've seen are put in place to indicate there's a patch of different colored macadam around the corner where a ripple in the road might once have been.
But this time, as we crested the rise, half our lane was missing - replaced by thin air and a really great view of the canyon floor far below - set behind a thoughtfully if not hastily constructed concrete barricade. Road damage indeed.
I have a saying every time Sue and I are in the desert, and she still loves me enough to laugh - "Oh look. A rock." I don't know how many shapes and shades a rock can assume, but I've yet to see the limit, and not for lack of trying. Swirls and spires, peaks and piles, red and tan and green and grey. Despite having run out of ways to convey the whole, I'm still impressed when I see something new - like impossible boulders balanced on implausible spindles. How do they DO that?!
We had coffee today at Kiva, the koolest koffee house in the world, built into the cliffs of Escalante Staircase, then moments later we were riding along a "hog's back", a very curvy nightmare with sheer cliffs literally on both sides and the top no wider than the pavement. Add in stiff winds from the right, and some deer and cattle crossing signs (how'd they get up there?!) and you have something for everyone. Then moments later we were back in the highlands, surrounded by fresh snow, with a blizzard closing in from the left, and the freshly-melting piles from the snowplows along the roadsides. We timed that one just right.
In closing, we've crossed a lot of rivers on the Tour, including the Arkansas, the Mississippi, and the Raccoon, all of which were a little flooded as we passed, and they're much worse now. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the good people in all the affected regions.
Onward and upward!
On the 2018 Prefrontal Tour I'd say that 20 times per day, or every time I saw something I wanted to remember for my daily update. But now thanks to Google and their ever-shifting landscape of features and products, I have to say "Add to my shopping list", and hope that Google actually transcribes my voice and stores it away. The success rate has been between 10 and 80 percent, depending on cellular service.
As you can tell from the varied list of topics I cover, (and some of the more interesting topics that don't make the update), whoever at Google and the NSA is assigned to monitor my account is probably wondering what the hell I'm up to. Today, for instance, I added yaks and llamas to the list of large mammals we've seen, and in that vein I created a quiz for the 2019 Prefrontal Tour (no search engines allowed)...
What species is the DEER XING sign, most likely?
How many points on the rack of the 2D deer?
BONUS: Why is the DEER XING sign the only one to show the animal in question in high speed motion, i.e. not standing or walking?
We saw plenty of those signs today and even more cattle signs as we started out the day in Utah, or what I affectionately call "the Police state", winding along scenic roads with speed limits of 60 to 80 miles per hour. But every municipality has a radar sign at the edge of town and the speed limit plummets to 40. And there on Main Street, sitting in the only spot of shade, is the committed constabulary - new car, radar, and a disappointed look as we toodle past at 35.
We skirted Bryce and Zion Canyons, passing through the town of Tropic at a cool 50 degrees, heated grips set back to STUN. We crossed into the Dixie National Forest at 7,777 feet of elevation and as we crested the lip and dropped into Bryce we noted the "Road Damage" sign. We've been marveling at these signs since Kansas, because the few we've seen are put in place to indicate there's a patch of different colored macadam around the corner where a ripple in the road might once have been.
But this time, as we crested the rise, half our lane was missing - replaced by thin air and a really great view of the canyon floor far below - set behind a thoughtfully if not hastily constructed concrete barricade. Road damage indeed.
I have a saying every time Sue and I are in the desert, and she still loves me enough to laugh - "Oh look. A rock." I don't know how many shapes and shades a rock can assume, but I've yet to see the limit, and not for lack of trying. Swirls and spires, peaks and piles, red and tan and green and grey. Despite having run out of ways to convey the whole, I'm still impressed when I see something new - like impossible boulders balanced on implausible spindles. How do they DO that?!
We had coffee today at Kiva, the koolest koffee house in the world, built into the cliffs of Escalante Staircase, then moments later we were riding along a "hog's back", a very curvy nightmare with sheer cliffs literally on both sides and the top no wider than the pavement. Add in stiff winds from the right, and some deer and cattle crossing signs (how'd they get up there?!) and you have something for everyone. Then moments later we were back in the highlands, surrounded by fresh snow, with a blizzard closing in from the left, and the freshly-melting piles from the snowplows along the roadsides. We timed that one just right.
In closing, we've crossed a lot of rivers on the Tour, including the Arkansas, the Mississippi, and the Raccoon, all of which were a little flooded as we passed, and they're much worse now. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the good people in all the affected regions.
Onward and upward!
