I know you all might not be interested in these particular goings-on (is that a southern phrase {goings-on?}) but you did sign up for this so I hope you are ready for my “sort of” personal and almost-but-not-quite daily diary. You might just decide you want to unsubscribe.

After all, this is why I started this blog in the first place, to record my daily life for myself and those closest to me. Somehow it expanded to a slightly larger audience than that, but still small enough to feel comfortable (knowing the whole web is not open to reading my personal life just in case they cared) to just be me. Not that I haven’t ever been me, but I think you know what I mean. Most of you who are now members have been reading me long enough to know me even if you’ve never met me. I like that. Knowing that, I feel free. Able to say what I want. Well, within reason that is.

Tonight we sat down with a glass of wine (maybe two) on the deck before dinner and went through our recipes that we had selected as candidates for meals at the cabin.

For those of you that remember, our cabin is situated about a 45 minute drive away from the nearest town, which happens to be Laramie, Wyoming. The roads leading to our cabin our not paved, but dirt. Red dirt. Red dirt roads that can become washboarded and rough to travel over. Roads that have free-range cattle and antelope roaming freely over them. Once we are at the cabin it’s hard to pry us away for any reason. We can go a week (if we plan meals accordingly) not leaving the cabin environs except to go on nightly drives to see elk, etc.

For most people, this isolation would drive them crazy. Not us. We relish the opportunity to “tune out” from the stress of daily life. We take long walks with the dogs. We do jigsaw puzzles. We nap when we want to. We read when we want to. Heck, we do most things when we want to. The fewer the trips in to Laramie, the better.

All the more reason to plan out our eating strategy wisely. It’s not easy, but we seem to manage on the “less is more” strategy just fine. If you forget an ingredient there is no ringing up the neighbors to borrow something. No convenience store conveniently close.

I think we came up with some pretty tasty meals. We’ll get groceries on our way in to the cabin to last us up to four days and after that we’ll go in to town to do a bigger shop. Somewhere in Nebraska on the last day of travel I will unravel Rick’s list and organize it.

Bella, our ever present companion, helped us make the list. The devilish glint in her eye and big grin on her face says mom, when we leaving? can we go now? my beaver pond awaits!

Like I mentioned in my previous blog entry, Rick took Friday off and we went to the Dutchess County Fair in Rhinebeck, NY.  We had planned this day weeks ahead. A very wise choice as it turned out, because they cancelled the fair for Saturday and Sunday—their biggest days— due to Hurricane Irene. So sad.

The fairgrounds are also home to the Sheep & Wool Festival that we’ve gone to for the past two years that takes place in October. And, for those of you that don’t know, I spent my childhood years growing up in Dutchess County, New York. My sister tells me that we used to go to the fair but I honestly don’t remember! This is the first time Rick and I have ever gone.

The fair’s grounds and buildings don’t change but instead of barns filled with sheep, wool and everything to do with wool, they are full of cows,

 

 

pigs,

 

 

 

chickens,

 

 

 

Note the name of this one: Fluffy Pants

photo by Rick

 

photo by Rick

 

photo by Rick

rabbits,

Poor bunny! (Read the sign above him.)

photo by Rick

and of course 4-H projects.

There are many more food vendors, in fact it’s hard to decide what and where to eat and drink.

 

 

 

 

photo by Rick

But the heart of any fair is the midway with its games, silly side show attractions and rides.

 

You could see the world’s smallest horse or the largest: you choose!

 

Or how about these oddities? Rick did go into this one and paid $3.00. I wouldn’t go in. He said some of the things were real (poor animals) and some were just stuffed versions. He said it was pretty sad.

Rick took this photo too which I absolutely love!

Even the cloud seems to be asking why? as it forms a question mark over this ride! Does this look like *fun* to you?

Or how about this one?

Here it is in action.

 

This little boy was in an attraction called The Hampster Cage—plastic tubes that you could roll around while inside them. I loved the surrealism of the way the photos came out.

 

We took the back roads home and found a way to get there with Mia without going on the interstate even though at one point it takes a lot of zigging and zagging in the towns. We fell in love with the historic Rondout and Stockade districts in Kingston (which we stumbled on by taking a slight detour that we didn’t mean to) with its old stone houses and also the beautiful countryside and charm of the town of New Paltz. Sadly, the area around New Paltz had a lot of flooding with Irene. We’ll be headed back before too long because I want to take a walking tour in Kingston and explore New Paltz.

All in all, a delightful day!

 

The Panama Canal is a must-see for anyone visiting Panama City.  I even went twice: once with Rick on our first day there since he would not get another chance to go with full day meetings; and once with the wives as part of a sightseeing tour. Each time I learned something more about this amazing feat of construction and engineering. Alas, somehow I got home without my little pamphlet with all the facts. Boo hoo! Now I’ll just have to go on memory and whatever facts I can find online to fill in the gaps. However, much of the information online does not include what I learned about it! Kind of strange ...

The Panama Canal opened in 1914 after many grueling years of construction. Laborers arrived from all over the Caribbean islands to work on the canal, and today you can see that “melting pot” in all the faces of the people of Panama. Not an easy task whacking your way through mosquito infested jungle and dredging out all that land. Thousands of people died during those years, and mostly from mosquito borne diseases such as yellow fever and malaria. The poor French (who started construction of the canal before it was turned over to the Americans to finish) made their situation much worse by assuming that the deaths were coming from disease-ridden rodents instead of the mosquitoes, and put the legs of their beds in buckets of water to keep the rodents away. Instead, they were creating a breeding ground for the very thing that was killing them.

From the balcony of our room at the Playa Bonita Resort we could see the ships lined up and waiting for entry into the canal each morning. By early afternoon they would all be gone and the next group of ships would start queuing up for the following day. I later learned that as each ship arrived it was given a number in the queue.

The Miraflores Locks are the best place to see the locks in action. They have a tourist center there complete with a viewing deck, informative museum, a short film about the history of the canal, and a restaurant.

From the viewing deck you have a bird’s eye view of the locks. There are two sets of locks, side by side to allow two large ships passage through at the same time. Here is a container ship in the far first lock.

And another ship preparing to move into the other lock.

The container ship has the help of a “mule” (heavy duty small trains that run on a track next to the locks) to keep it centered in the narrow space so it doesn’t hit the sides. See the guide wires running from the mule to the ship? I really wanted the job of driving one these mules. It looks like fun! You know me—Ms. Heavy-Equipment-Operator-Wannabe.

Meanwhile, while the container ship is in the second lock, the other ship makes its approach to the first lock with the help of a tug. Can you imagine trying to line up a huge ship to fit into a space just wide enough to hold it? I have a great deal of difficulty just trying to parallel park for pete’s sake!

And here is the container ship in the second and final lock along with its tug, and then leaving the lock on its way to the Atlantic Ocean.

Here are some more shots of the tanker as it comes into the first lock.

Almost in the first lock completely.

It takes about 12 minutes or so for the water level come up to completely. That is incredible considering there is no pumping done—it all works magically by gravity alone! Think of all that water! They rely on the plentiful rainfall they get to replenish the man-made lakes that they made to “run” the water for the canals. Trust me. They get plenty of rain!

Here’s a photo just to show you the scale and how big these ships really are.

Rick made this short video of the tanker coming into the lock.

Traffic is one-way through the canal. Usually in the mornings the ships move from South to North, or from the Pacific side to the Atlantic side. The locks close for several hours midday to allow the passage of the ships through the narrow Gaillard Cut which is only wide enough for one ship to pass through. Then the locks are opened back up and the ships are let through going the opposite direction. Only about 12 or so large ships go through each way, each day. 24 ships is not really a lot when you consider how popular the Canal is! When they can they put other smaller boats in with the big ones. I don’t really want to be on one of those small boats in there with some big ship!

It takes about eight hours for a ship to make the complete transit through the canal. Here is a map so you can see the route.

Transit through the canal may save a ton (no pun intended) of money in fuel (compared to going around the whole continent of South America), but it doesn’t come cheap either. A typical toll for the average container/tanker is around $200,000 per transit. The highest toll ever paid goes to a Norwegian cruise ship that paid $450,000 one-way. The lowest toll ever collected was in 1928 from a man named Richard Halliburton when he swam the canal for 36 cents.

Let’s face it, the canal is showing its age. What the average size of ships was in 1914 is no longer true today. Many of the bigger ships being built today simply do not fit. Work is underway to complete a new set of bigger locks and is due for completion around 2014 or 2015. This will allow more ships—and bigger ships—to pass through.

Now you just might be wondering how skilled a pilot you have to be to navigate your ship through the locks? Every ship that passes through the locks has a certified Panama Canal boat captain board their ship prior to their approach of the locks and pilot it through. Pretty cool, huh? With an annual salary of $85,000 it’s a coveted career in Panama. Here is a class of young pilots taking a break from their studies.

I hope you’ve enjoyed your transit through the Panama Canal! I’ve tried to tell you everything I learned or remember about the canal from my two visits there. I’m sure I’m forgetting something but I didn’t want to weigh you down in details. I hope that you learned some things today that you didn’t know before!

I found this great time lapse video of a complete transit through the canal.  Take a few minutes and watch it. Enjoy!

 

Or here is the link.

Our hotel offered a “jungle walk” on the grounds behind the hotel. Rick and I tried twice to take it but it was cancelled because of the heavy rain we’d had the day before. I couldn’t understand why they would cancel because of rain. That is, I didn’t understand until I finally took the walk. Then I understood just fine.

Somehow I had envisioned a somewhat flat walk on a decent trail around the base of the hill/mountain behind the hotel. I should have known that in Panama nothing is flat. It’s either up the side of a mountain or flights of stairs.

Walks were offered at 10:00 a.m. or 3:00 p.m. Claire and I decided to try for the 3:00 p.m. walk after our walk on the beach. Weather permitting, of course, and in Panama at this time of year we soon learned that the sky can open up and pour rain at just about any time of day, but mostly in the afternoon. We got lucky because when we showed up pool side to meet our guide he told us we would go ahead and do the walk even though the sky looked a bit threatening. We told him our main goal was to see a sloth in its native habitat and hoped that would be possible. We doused ourselves with insect repellent, grabbed a couple of water bottles and off we went.

My first clue should have been the machete our guide was carrying. Hmmm ... is he going to have to chop our way through the jungle?

The trail started up (of course) over rain-slick rotting vegetation. Now I see why the trail could become treacherous from being too slippery. At least it had dried out enough from yesterday’s downpour to make hiking easier but you still had to watch where you were walking. The mosquitoes were thick once we entered the jungle. It was very hot and very humid. Within minutes of walking I was drenched with sweat. My clothes were sticking to me and my hair was plastered to my head. I could feel the heat in my face and knew that it had turned bright red from the heat and exertion. Claire and I both looked at each other and decided it was a good thing no one else could see us just then. Yikes. At one point our guide offered me more bug spray and I said I didn’t think I needed it, that they were leaving me alone. He and Claire both started laughing and swatted away a mosquito that had just landed on my cheek. I put more on after that.

Before we had gone very far our guide stopped and was looking into the dense vegetation on the side of the trail. Sloth! he said and started swinging his machete, making a trail through the tangle of plants. Claire and I looked at each other, shrugged, and followed him. I was starting to feel like I was in some kind of Indiana Jones movie. He continued to chop at the plants, but no sloth. A few minutes later, close to the same spot, we found this: fast asleep, high up in the tree—a sloth at last. Can you find it?

Our guide shook the tree until we thought it would pull itself out by the roots and still the sloth slept on, oblivious to his shaking perch. There was no waking this guy up from his nap. If you have trouble seeing it in the photo above, I’ve highlighted it in the next photo. You can see it isn’t even hanging on to the tree with one arm, which is flung outward. You can see the nails on its front leg and also on the back leg that is wrapped around the branch. That was one dead-to-the-world sloth.

It rained a little bit but it didn’t matter because we were already wet from sweat. I had to put my camera under my shirt at one point but it was only a drizzle.

A lone pineapple plant!

The trail got very steep at one point and I had to force myself to go on. I have been battling rib and stomach muscle injuries since the winter and had not been getting any type of exercise at all while I tried to get everything to heal. So, I was out of shape and afraid to make anything worse. I could feel every steep step in my gut. Do you realize how much you depend on your stomach muscles to climb?

Further up the trail and close to the top of the mountain our guide found another sloth. This time he was able to get it to move by smacking the trees with his machete, and as the sloth changed trees we had a great view of it. This series of photos shows pretty much how slow it was moving as each frame is a move.

It finally found a spot where it could settle back in and continue its nap!

Cute! I had always heard sloths were dirty and smelly animals but this particular sloth looked very clean. Just look at the length of all that hair! They are a lot bigger than I expected too. This one when all stretched out was probably as long as I am tall.

We saw a few more along the trail, but just as gray looking balls hanging in trees. All the sloths were saw were of the two-toed variety, our as our guide called them “white-faced.” He told us the three-toed sloths have a dark face and can be very aggressive when disturbed. I wondered how aggressive could a sloth really get?

Claire was out in front at one point and saw a small, brown animal run across the trail—twice! I didn’t see it and neither did our guide but he said he was pretty sure what it was. We didn’t recognize what he was trying to tell us it was though. Mystery animal. We saw lots of vultures sitting in trees and ant hills full of fire ants. We didn’t see any snakes or scorpions or any other kind of creepy crawly things. A group of monkeys with babies on their backs were a welcome sight. Can you see the baby hanging on?

From time to time our guide would use his machete on plants and vines that had started to encroach into the trail. It doesn’t take long for the jungle to start reclaiming its territory.

There were several nice view points along the way overlooking our hotel far below and one to the distant skyline of Panama City. I have no idea why I didn’t take a photo of the view, but after going through my photos I didn’t find any. I think I just got tired of switching between the telephoto and my normal lens.

We also saw several morpho butterflies along the trail. Sorry, no photos as they were there one minute and gone the next. Kind of like being visited by a medium-sized blue bird—they are huge. Absolutely gorgeous! You almost felt as if you had been blessed after they flew by.

We heard a noise kind of similar to a frog croaking and our guide stopped us to have a listen to what he said was a toucan! Such a strange sound! We never did get a look at it before it flew off. Too bad. I’d loved to have seen one.

There were some strange and very large trees along the way like these orange-barked ones. Our guide called them “stomach trees.” When he thumped on the tree with his fist you could hear that it was hollow. The natives used them for making dugout canoes. They had a strange root structure too, like gnarly fingers gripping the ground.

The walk took almost two hours and I can tell you we were ready to hit the showers! We cleaned up our mud-spattered shoes and legs at an outside faucet before entering the hotel grounds, tipped our guide for being such a great sloth-wrangler, and headed to our rooms. I can tell you that air conditioning and a cool shower have never felt so good! Hiking in the tropics is not a glamorous thing. Would I do it again? You bet!

As you already know from reading this blog, fireflies are Zen-like to me. They tend to relieve whatever stress I’ve managed to collect over the course of a day. I never cease to wonder at their blinking morse code antics to find a mate.

As I type tonight my mate is finally now across the Pacific Ocean and over the International Date Line. His today is now my tomorrow. I hate it.

Our weather over the past few days has not been conducive to walking the dogs. The air conditioning has been running at full tilt and the humidity has been off the charts. Added to that is the remodel that is still going on in our house which just adds to the the daily stress and non-activity of the dogs who are usually sequestered to certain sections of the house during all this. Tonight I took them for a walk and upon coming home it was the right time to sit out in the yard to observe the fireflies. Only Bella was game enough to join me.

I sat down in the grass amidst the clover with my final glass of wine for the evening and just watched. Fireflies winked and blinked all around me, sometimes coming as close as my big toe. Wink, wink, here I am! they said to prospective mates. I had to reflect on how lucky I am to have found my mate in life while others are still searching for theirs, even if mine is halfway around the world tonight. Safe journey, my love.