Steve and Judy's Travels!

Why do all those people want to drive out from California to the river
between Parker and Havasu? It’s just the Colorado River, out in the middle
of nowhere, in the desert. How pretty could it be, anyway?

Black chinned hummingbirds at the feeder. Took a morning birdwalk. Saw a
Verdin. Finally. A little desert bird. We’ve been after him for years.
Got three good looks at him. Abert’s towhee. Looks just like a California
towhee, but their ranges don’t overlap, so has to be Abert’s. Another new
bird. Flycatcher with orange tail coverts and white throat. Looked it up
in the book. Oops. Female vermillion flycatcher. Buckskin. A thirty-two bird park. 331 on the big list.

The dreaded digital beep. 4:30 am. 4:30 am may not sound that early to
some people, like Jamie for instance, but for some of us it’s the middle of
the night. Not a continuous beeping that can be located, but a single,
solitary, sleep penetrating beep, that won’t happen again for twenty
minutes. So there I am, in the middle of the night, trying to locate a beep
that will not happen again until ten minutes after I’ve gone back to bed.
Know how much digital stuff we have in our houses now? Know how many little
lights glow after you’ve shut everything down for the night? By 6:30, I had shut down, unplugged, removed the batteries, and otherwise
disabled every single electronic gadget in the motorhome. Beep. The computer was unplugged, both palm pilots were unplugged from
their rechargers, both cellphones were unplugged and turned off, the
stopwatch had been located and it was off, the digital thermometer had its
batteries lying next to it. Beep. The microwave was off, the coffee pot was unplugged, the TV power was
off, the DVD player was off, the VCR was off, the satellite box was off, the
motorized satellite dish was off, the keys were out of the ignition and in a
drawer, the electric hot water heater was off. Beep. The smoke detector was lying on the kitchen table near its batteries.
The battery powered alarm clock. The palm pilots. The plugs to recharge
things that weren’t even plugged into anything. Beep. It did it. Finally, it did it. It beeped while I was awake. It beeped
after we had given up and gotten up. It beeped right next to my head. In
the middle room of our motorhome, between the front room and the bedroom,
there is a wall. On this wall is the control for the motorhome slide, the
climate control panel for both rooms, and the carbon monoxide detector. The
carbon monoxide detector! I knew it was there. Kind of. I had seen it
there, but I guess it didn’t really register. It’s like a smoke detector,
but it detects carbon monoxide. It is battery powered. I didn’t notice it
enough to think about checking the battery. It was going flat. Flat enough
to trigger the low battery alarm. Occasionally.
It only took a few minutes to find the cat today. He was sitting quietly in
the shower, waiting for someone to come by and open the door to let him out.

We stopped in a desert rest area to stretch our legs. We were sitting on a
bench in the shade when we spotted the new bird. It was hanging out with
some brewer’s blackbirds, but it was different. It had a yellow chest.
We’re familiar with yellow-headed blackbirds, they tend to hang out in
marshes, but there is no such thing as a yellow-breasted blackbird, so we
knew whatever it was, it was a new bird for us. We watched it carefully.
We noted all its coloring characteristics, and how it was different from the
other birds. We followed it when it flew, to get as long a look as
possible. We only had one set of binoculars with us right then, so we
shared, and compared notes. When we got back to the motorhome, we went
straight to the bird books to figure out what it was. We started with
blackbirds, because that’s what it looked like. It didn’t take long. We’ve
seen tons of yellow-headed blackbirds. The males are so distinctive,
though, with their yellow heads, that I guess we just ignored the females.
There, in our Sibley’s, was a perfect rendition of our mystery bird. A
female yellow-headed blackbird. Oh well.

Our moss landing beach.