Rio Grande Bosque, New Mexico

Last Friday’s blog post was a travelogue, Scenic Geology--New Mexico, by Jim Baker. Jim takes us along on another drive today.

My wife, Marcia, had other obligations, so I invited my 88-year old neighbor, Sunny, to accompany me on a road trip to view the Rio Grande bosque cottonwoods, whose green was turning yellow with the fall season.

“Bosque” is Spanish for forest or woodland, and in the Southwest, bosque refers to the gallery forest along riparian floodplains of rivers or streams. According to the U.S. Forest Service, the Middle Rio Grande bosque is the largest cottonwood forest in the southwestern U.S., extending downstream some 160 miles from Cochiti Dam, north of Albuquerque, past Socorro to San Marcial (treesearch.fs.fed.us/pubs/35694).

A view of the cottonwoods from the east bank of the
Rio Grande, looking west across the valley toward
 the Magdalena Mountain Range.

Along the way, we passed through San Acacia, whose main
street is shown here in a photograph from last summer. Note
the vintage vehicles. The village was named for San Acacio,
patron saint of soldiers, but it was misspelled when the post
office was established. The residents still use "San Acacio."

San Acacia was largely destroyed in the great Rio Grande flood
of 1929. This church is one of the few surviving structures.

A view along an acequia (canal), running along
the Rio Grande at San Acacia.

The river road dips into the cottonwood bosque.
The road runs on the east side of the Rio Grande,
and you pretty well better know where to access it
and have high clearance and 4WD to traverse it.

The road emerges from the bosque and climbs into an area
called the Quebradas (breaks). The Quebradas Backcounty
Byway runs about 24 miles, cutting through arroyos and rugged
terrain. The pinkish stuff fronting the cottonwoods is tamarisk—
very pretty but a non-native, water sucking, invasive species.

At the southern end of our drive, we passed through the
Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, a well known
sanctuary for migrating bird life. These residents, however,
are mule deer--note the huge ears.

A gaggle of snow geese in the Bosque del Apache Refuge.

Sandhill Cranes in the Bosque del Apache Refuge.
Endangered Whooping Cranes are often seen there,
but we didn’t spot any on this day.

Our reward at the end of the dusty trail: the award-winning
 amber ale at the Socorro Springs Brewery.

I hope you enjoyed Jim Baker’s views of New Mexico’s scenic geology and the Rio Grande bosque. Your feedback would be appreciated. Once again, I extend my sincere thanks to Jim. Thanks for stopping by. And Happy New Year!

Scenic Geology--New Mexico

Welcome back. Persistence pays off. Do you remember the guest travelogues by Jim Baker--Ghost Towns--New Mexico and New Mexico Backcountry? Well, I kept bothering Jim about doing another, and he finally agreed! As he put it, “Since I love to tout New Mexico and my treks to the quirky, off-the beaten-path spots that only I (and a few thousand others) know of, I'm happy to oblige.”

 
For this New Mexico travelogue, I decided to focus on federally administered "treasures" within 100 miles of my home town, Albuquerque. Even that requires winnowing, since there are many possible choices. Some feature archaeological/historical sites, such as the Petroglyph, Salinas Pueblo Missions, and Pecos national monuments. Others spotlight wildlife, such as the splendid Bosque Del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. For this post, I opted for geological scenic wonders.

Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument 

The Kasha-Katuwe National Monument lies between Albuquerque and Santa Fe, near the Cochiti Pueblo, along an escarpment in the foothills of the Jemez Mountain Range. The main attractions here are the giant "hoodoos," which can be taller than a 10 story building, and a spectacular slot canyon. I have to warn you that Kasha-Katuwe can get rather crowded, particularly on weekends.

Hoodoos atop the escarpment rim at Kasha-Katuwe
Tent Rocks National Monument, New Mexico.

Jim and his wife, Marcia, at the base of a
non-rim hoodoo that’s lost its "cap."

Entrance to the slot canyon at Kasha-Katuwe
Tent Rocks National Monument, New Mexico.

Farther up the slot canyon at Kasha-Katuwe
Tent Rocks National Monument, New Mexico.

If you persevere to the head of the slot canyon and
scramble to the mesa top, you are rewarded with
this view of the Sandia and Manzano mountain ranges.

San Lorenzo Canyon Recreation Area

Unlike Kasha-Katuwe, the San Lorenzo Canyon Recreation Area is little known and well off the beaten path. During my five hours in the canyon, I saw one other person. The nearest "town" is Polvadera, and a lengthy drive over a washboard access road is required.

The site is administered by the Bureau of Land Management and has no services--no toilets, no water, no trash bins, no nothin'. Bring what you need, and pack it back out.

The canyon is on a lower and upper level. You can drive the lower level with a high clearance vehicle, but you must clamber up an escarpment to get to the upper level. The canyon’s attractions are fantastic wind-worked sandstone formations.

On the access road into San Lorenzo Canyon Recreation
Area, you pass “Discontinuity Butte.”

In San Lorenzo Canyon, you're treated to otherworldly formations--
here, two side canyons coming in.

An example of the San Lorenzo Canyon’s fascinating
combinations of columns and balancing rocks.

The direct route to San Lorenzo Canyon’s upper level
is through this cleft. (I got about 200 meters when common
sense kicked in: old guy, bum hip, try again when I can
persuade a younger fool to accompany me.)

Wrap Up

Although the Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument and San Lorenzo Canyon Recreation Area are fun and interesting any time of year, I recommend winter, especially after a snow. I'd probably avoid August unless you must.

Jim Baker’s travelogue will continue next Tuesday with a day trip from Albuquerque to admire the fall cottonwoods along the Rio Grande bosque. The seasonal changes he captured occur only a few days a year. I hope you’ll be back to see them. Thanks for stopping by.

Beagle Photo Addendum

If you read last Friday’s blog post, Dog Tail Wagging, you’ve probably been, well, watching dog tail wagging. Take a break! Here’s a series of photographs that Rachel took of her beloved and much mellowed beagles (and husband Mike), beginning with the tail. (You can see more of Rachel’s “pet portraits” at www.rachelphilipson.com.)

Beag (blue collar) and his sister Sydney’s tail.

That’s Beag in front, sort of.

Beagles and Mike.

Oh Boy! A chase-the-ball game.

OK. Now what?

Watch me dribble the ball. No, no, no--wrong game.

That was certainly fun. You’re leaving already?

Dog Tail Wagging

Welcome back. If it’s not icy, below zero or raining hard, I take a brisk walk along the same route within about 30 minutes of the same time every afternoon.

I don’t pass many houses, but there’s one set back from the road, where on weekdays, barking starts as I approach and continues until I’m far beyond the house. Since I neither whistle, sing nor walk loudly, I presume the dog is at a window, awaiting the homeowner’s return.

Three weeks ago, the dog attacked me, sort of. I was walking by the house in my usual manner, when an average size, mature, black Labrador came running up to me, growling. My only defense was to take the Frisbee from its mouth and toss it. That of course led to petting and repeated tosses and retrievals. I had no choice; it kept growling.

The dog was wagging its tail, but at the time, I didn’t realize that I should be heeding the wag direction. It was only after I saw a recent study on dogs recognizing other dogs’ tail wag direction that I discovered the earlier research. I can’t believe those findings didn’t make the headlines. Or is it that we had cats, and I wasn’t looking for dog insight?

Earlier Tail-Wagging Study

Expanding the research on behaviors associated with specialization of the left and right sides of the brain, collaborators from Italy’s Bari and Trieste universities examined the lack of symmetry in dog tail movement, i.e., wagging.

In controlled experiments, they exposed 30 mixed breed, pet dogs, 1 to 6 years old, half male-half female, to four visual stimuli: the dog's owner; an unknown person; a dominant unfamiliar dog; and a cat.

This was done by placing the dogs in a confined space, with essentially an opaque window that was opened for 60 seconds for the dogs to see the different stimuli. The absence of any visual stimulus was also recorded.
 
Tail movements associated with each stimulus were analyzed systematically from video recordings. Data for male and female dogs were combined since there were no significant differences.

A dog’s wagging tail. Note the negative,
withdrawal direction (right-brain activated).
(Photo by www.rachelphilipson.com)

The investigators found a significant bias in tail wagging to the right (left brain activated) when the dogs saw their owner (high amplitude wagging), the unknown person (medium amplitude) and the cat (very low amplitude). In contrast, there was a significant bias in tail wagging to the left (right brain activated) when the dogs saw the unfamiliar dog or no stimulus.

Recent Tail-Wagging Study

I won’t go into detail about the recent study conducted by most of the same investigators, now at Bari and Trento universities. The findings reinforce the earlier study and are equally fascinating.

In short, dogs watching video images of other dogs had higher cardiac activity and more anxious behavior when they saw left- rather than right-biased tail wagging. The dogs recognized and responded differently to other dogs’ positive approach emotion (wagging right) and negative withdrawal emotion (wagging left).

Monitoring wag direction with these
dogs is going to be difficult.(Photo by
 www.rachelphilipson.com)

 
Wrap Up

The researchers conclude that their findings link brain asymmetry and social behavior and may be of value to both the theory and practice of canine welfare. I’ll bounce that off my niece, the veterinarian; our letter carrier never leaves the car.

Before we take this too far, however, I think the findings must be tested with dogs from other countries. Perhaps dogs raised in Italy are merely expressing their version of the hand and finger gestures so common in Italian conversation.

Thanks for stopping by.

P.S.

- Study of dogs recognizing other dogs’ tail wagging in Current Biology and article on the study on Science Daily:
www.cell.com/current-biology/retrieve/pii/S0960982213011433
www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/10/131031124916.htm
- Earlier study (2007) of dogs’ asymmetric tail wagging responses in Current Biology:
www.cell.com/current-biology/fulltext/S0960-9822%2807%2900949-9
- Articles on Italian hand gestures:
www.nytimes.com/2013/07/01/world/europe/when-italians-chat-hands-and-fingers-do-the-talking.html?_r=0
learn-italian-software-review.toptenreviews.com/top-ten-essential-italian-hand-gestures.html

Snake Photo Addendum

In last Friday’s blog post, Afraid of Snakes?, I commented that our fear of snakes has apparently grown over the millennia. A 2011 study from SIL International and Cornell University examined interactions that have long characterized the evolutionary history of snakes and primates.

The paper, published online in 2011 in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS), reported ethnographic observations of a group of 120 Philippine Agta, then still preliterate hunter-gatherers. Fatal attacks by pythons had occurred over the years and over one quarter of the adult males had survived python attacks. Since the Agta ate pythons and animals that python fed on, the humans and snakes were reciprocally prey, predators and potential competitors.

Reticulated python, 6.9 meters (22.6 ft) long, shot
by the Agta on the right; Luzon, Philippines, 1970.
(Photo by J. Headland, from PNAS)

Skin of the same python, which provided about 25 kg
(55 lb) of meat. (Photo by J. Headland, from PNAS).

Radiograph of a reticulated python’s stomach, containing
 two young macaque monkeys; Singapore.
(Photo by A. Devan-Song from PNAS).

P.S.

- Study in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences:
www.pnas.org/content/108/52/E1470.full?sid=968296a6-4a1f-47b2-8af4-e7964305752d
- Cornell University article that alerted me to the study: www.news.cornell.edu/stories/2011/12/primates-prey-predators-and-competitors-snakes

Afraid of Snakes?

Welcome back. If you’re old enough to be a member of AARP, you might have seen the pronouncement in the Oct/Nov 2013 issue of their magazine that people over 50 are more afraid of snakes than they are of running out of money.

Visitor (probably a black rat snake),
about 4 feet long, that welcomed Rachel
home one day. (It’s not a great photo--
Rachel was leaving too fast.)
(www.rachelphilipson.com)

I’m not sure about the source of the survey statistics. The AARP item, Upfront, mentioned a study from the University of Texas at Austin, though I don’t think that was the source and couldn’t confirm any link from the cited author’s publications.

I considered querying the editor but decided that was unnecessary. I’m sure you’ll agree that, whether or not they’re Number 1, snakes are way up there on the phobia list. (For general reference, ophidiophobia is fear of snakes; herpetophobia is the more general fear of reptiles or amphibians, or both.)

Here’s the thing. I would have ignored the AARP note if I hadn’t just seen two studies--one recent, one older--that suggest our brains have been wired to detect snakes.

Older Study

A 2008 study from the University of Virginia provided evidence that our ability to detect snakes and other “fear-relevant stimuli” (e.g., spiders) was enhanced through evolution.

In a series of experiments, adults and preschool children were shown single-target pictures among arrays of eight distractors. The adults and even the children spotted snakes quicker than they spotted three types of nonthreatening stimuli (flowers, frogs and caterpillars).

Although young children may not fear snakes, they’re especially adept at detecting them and are predisposed to learn to fear snakes.

Recent Study

A recently published study, this one by collaborators from Japan’s University of Toyama, the University of California, Davis, and Brazil’s University of Brasilia, provides neuroscientific evidence to support the idea that the threat of snakes strongly influenced the evolution of the primate brain. (Primates include apes, monkeys and us.)

The researchers tested two macaque monkeys that were born on a national monkey farm in Japan and had probably never seen snakes. To measure the activity of individual brain cells, they implanted microelectrodes in a part of the monkeys’ brain’s visual system that’s unique to primates.

When the monkeys were shown images of snakes and three other stimulus categories--threatening monkey faces, monkey hands and geometric shapes--the Images of the snakes elicited the strongest, fastest responses (and the responses were not reduced by low spatial filtering of the images).

Wrap Up

Although my review of research was far from comprehensive and although further research is needed, particularly with primates that have never been exposed to real or imaged snakes or stories thereof, it seems that we’re primed to fear snakes. Whether it began with a bite or an apple, that fear has apparently grown over the millennia; at least that’s what surveys such as that reported by AARP suggest. Thanks for stopping by.

P.S.

- Older (2008) study in Psychological Science Journal:
pss.sagepub.com/content/19/3/284.abstract
- Article on older study on Live Science:
www.livescience.com/2348-fear-snakes.html
- Recent study in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences:
www.pnas.org/content/early/2013/10/23/1312648110
- Articles on recent study from National Public Radio and the Times of India:
www.npr.org/blogs/health/2013/10/29/241370496/eeek-snake-your-brain-has-a-special-corner-just-for-them
articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2013-10-29/science/43494975_1_snakes-primates-monkeys

P.P.S.

Don't be too surprised if you see a new header on this blog. I'm working on it.

Goal Setting--Second Winning Blog Post

The blog’s contest--to write about a goal that you, someone close to you or your pet accomplished or failed to accomplish--ended in a tie. Last Friday’s blog post offered one of the two winning entries, One Old Goal, and today’s post features the second, by Josefina Wopatova.

My Goal

A teenage goal to star in a rock concert.
 (photo from multiple websites;
www.livescience.com, credits Maigi)

My teenage goal was to be a Rock Star. I wanted to be rich, famous and live a slightly dangerous life. That was the one of several goals I wasn’t ultimately destined to achieve. But, here’s the thing. Of those three components, the first two really didn’t speak to me. I learned that I don’t really crave the kind of attention that a “Star” would garner. I don’t even crave an excess of money. It rather seems wasteful to me. I eschew Hollywood mansions and suburban McMansions alike. I’d rather have old and character-driven people and things around me. I like quirky, and I like tarnished. So, maybe the real goal, unbeknownst to me at the time, was to find out who I was inside. I thought I wanted to be known to others, but really I wanted to know myself. I thought I wanted wealth, but perhaps inside what I really wanted was to be wealthy in love, friendship and family.

The third component of my teenage dream was to be controversial or take on some risks and dangers. I got closer to that goal than the others. Mostly, I tried out adventures that were slightly out of the norm: skydiving, alpine skiing, spontaneous and reckless travel (planes, trains and automobiles combined). Okay, that last one might just have been dumb and landed me in a couple of tight spots. This was the era before ATMs, cell phones or computers, and I’m amazed that I got from place to place without trouble. However, I did get to meet some semi-famous people along the way and learn more about human nature. The funny thing about talking with celebrities is how vulnerable they also are. John Madden (NFL Football) was afraid to fly (how silly! I thought), so I found him on the train. Sam Kinison (comedian) was insecure, shy and soft spoken, completely unlike his on-stage character. Lawrence Taylor (NY Giants) was kind, quiet and generous to young me, the cocktail waitress, belying his hulky appearance. 

My adventures weren’t beyond the pale, but felt way outside of my Midwestern, small town life experience: I ate lamb’s brain in France and tamales in Mexico; I flew loop-the-loops in an airplane over Huntington Beach, Calif., and hiked up the Matterhorn in Switzerland. I camped in Roma on one of the seven hills. I drank too much Ouzo in Athens with other globetrotting young people. I laughed at the “bathrooms” in Italy, where at the time and place, it was simply a hole in the ground that you hovered over.

Tarantula crossing sign, though
in California and not a highway.
(photo from justalittlefurther.com)

I stepped over rattlesnakes and played with tarantulas crossing the highway in Arizona. Did you know that there are spider-crossing signs there, just like we see deer crossing signs in the northern climes? Weird.

So while my life goal wasn’t achieved, per se, one of the components of it was--enough to satisfy me at least. I wouldn’t change a thing.

Oh, and I sing like a Rock Star. Especially in the shower.

Goal Setting--First Winning Blog Post

Welcome Back. On 18 October, I announced the blog’s second contest--write about a goal that you, someone close to you or your pet accomplished or failed to accomplish. Thank you to all who participated and to the six judges whose count made it a tie: Josefina Wopatova and Jay P. share the spotlight.

You might remember that Josefina was the winner of the blog’s first contest and Jay was the runner up. When you read their essays, you’ll see why they were chosen as repeat winners. Today’s post is Jay’s essay, next Tuesday’s post will feature Josefina’s.

One Old Goal

Author’s 5th grade school, now
converted to condominiums.

My first recollection of my goal-setting behavior is from about the fifth grade. Although my time in fifth grade dates back to just past the mid-1900s, I wasn’t in a one room school house but rather one with four rooms. It was sort of a cubicle of a building. Because there were eight grades, two were conducted simultaneously in each classroom. While this arrangement might alarm modern pedagogs, teachers’ union reps or trendy parents, it wasn’t a horrible learning environment. Each year students received either a preparation for what was to come or a review of material that may have been unclear the previous year. And although I didn’t learn what a study hall was until I got to high school, when there’s one teacher for two grades, about half of one’s school day is supposed to be devoted to individual study.

This affected my goal setting because there happened to be sufficient time for individual daydreaming as well as study. My father transferred his interest in automobiles to me by the time I was halfway through K - 8. I remember much of my study time being devoted to contemplating things automotive, both domestic and the then rare foreign models. I distinctly recall those exotic Mercedes sports cars and thinking they had to be the best because they were way more expensive than Corvettes and Thunderbirds. So sitting one day drawing one in my own little study world, I determined that a measure of success in life would to be able to afford any car I wanted. It might not be a Mercedes when the time came, but it could be. It wouldn’t matter because I set my sights on being able to buy the one I wanted. 

Volvo P1800 (photo from
community.thefoundry.co.uk)

This goal remained with me a long time. Upon high school graduation I had saved enough money to buy myself a nice car. Ironically, the choices were narrowed to two used sports cars, a Mercedes SL 280 and a Volvo 1800, or a brand new Jeep. I was a practical Wisconsinite and opted to pay $2800 for the Jeep with four wheel drive. It turned out to be the only new car as well as the most troublesome vehicle I’ve ever owned. Still, I didn’t think I had reached my goal because I couldn’t afford the new models of the sports cars. 

1970 Jeep (photo by Marc Lesko,
65.181.130.138/rigs/clubrig15.shtml)

Then, in the somewhat more recent past I was working at my career in a police department. I walked through a hallway in which hung framed photos of our officers in action or training. Amid these manly and womanly police people with their weapons, vehicles and dogs was a curious new addition. A framed quote that read: One hundred years from now it won’t matter what sort of house I lived in or the kind of car I drove, but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child. It made an impression and I reevaluated an old goal.

News Delivery Photo Addendum

Following last Friday’s blog post, Good and Bad News, and the response to the older photographs in the Women’s Suffrage Photo Addendum, I thought you might be interested in older photographs of newsies (newsboys and newsgirls) and messenger boys.

Although I’ve tweaked the photographs a bit for this photo addendum, they’re all from Lot 7480 of the Library of Congress (www.loc.gov/pictures), where they’re credited to Lewis Wickes Hine.

2 AM, Papers just out. Boys starting out on
morning round, Journal Building near Brooklyn
Bridge, NY, N.Y., 1908. (LC-DIG-nclc 03168)

Waiting for the signal. Newsboys starting out with
baseball extra, 5 PM, Times Star Office, Cincinnati,
Ohio, 1908. (LC-DIG-nclc-03201)

Girl and boys selling papers, Wilmington,
Del., 1910. (LC-DIG-nclc-03612)

Coming through the alley. The smallest girl has
been selling newspapers for 2 years. Hartford,
Conn., 1909. (LC-DIG-nclc-03235)

5 year old Francis sells newspapers regularly on Grand
Avenue, St. Louis, Mo., 1910. (LC-DIG-nclc-03495)

Sonny and Pete, newsboys; one is six years old. They began
at 6:00 AM. San Antonio, Tex., 1913. (LC-DIG-nclc-03877)

American District Telegraph Co. messengers,
Indianapolis, Ind., 1908 (LC-DIG-nclc-03220)