Highlights from Recent Reading

Even when the wind rose — and there is almost always a wind in the valley in the afternoon — all this sea of rolling dunes remained hushed. I strained to catch the slightest sound. I strained in vain. As I stood there, my head cocked on one side, concentrating on a search for even the tiniest sounds, I recalled a rather famous American ornithologist of an earlier time. In his later years, not realizing he was growing deaf, he wrote a paper on “The Alarming Decrease in Small Singing Birds.” Hastily I put my wrist watch to my ear and was reassured by the small but steady sound of its ticking.

from Wandering through Winter, by Edwin Way Teale


The name “Colorado Springs” had the vaguest of origins, having been applied for some years to the whole area around the Ute Pass soda springs, including the Garden of the Gods, Colorado City, and the Monument-Fountain Creeks junction. Fitz-Hugh Ludlow, author of The Heart of the Continent, used the name as early as 1867. When Palmer bought the soda springs, he tried to give the site a touch of elegance by calling it “La Font.” For the larger site on the plains he offered the words “Monument Dells,” which had been suggested to him in England by the good Canon Kingsley, apparently visualizing a Sherwood Forest sort of place with waterfalls and cool mossy glades.

General Cameron avoided this horror and when Pabor composed his flowery prospectus he called the town site “Colorado Springs” because it had a nice rich eastern spa sound. He did it on the sly, fearing that Palmer would object, since the only springs were the soda springs five miles away at the foot of Ute Pass. Palmer did object feebly, but by that time “Colorado Springs” was entered in Irving Howbert’s county transfer books and, besides, Palmer was beginning to like the clear brave ring of the name.

from Newport in the Rockies by Marshall Sprague


There were day-time picnics for young people in the Garden of the Gods with games like the one “Chumley” Thornton was said to have invented at Manitou Park called “a snake scramble.” This game required the young ladies to scramble through the scrub oak and when they saw a rattlesnake they had to scramble back to their starting place. The last girl in had to kiss somebody.

from Newport in the Rockies by Marshall Sprague


I will tell you a secret. I have never read King Lear, and have purposely refrained from doing so. If I were ever very ill I would only need to say to myself, “You can’t die yet, you haven’t read Lear.” That would bring me round, I know it would.

from The Haunted Bookshop, by Christopher Morley


“All right,” said the bookseller amiably. “Miss Chapman, you take the book up with you and you read it in bed if you want to. Are you a librocubicularist?”

Titania looked a little scandalized.

“It’s all right, my dear,” said Helen. “He only means you are fond of reading in bed.”

from The Haunted Bookshop, by Christopher Morley


In northern Manitoba a man saw a great bald eagle — hanging from its neck, teeth locked in skin and feathers, the bleached skull of a weasel.

from A Year’s Changes, by Jim Harrison


A bore is a man who deprives you of solitude without providing you with company.

a quote by Gian Vincenzo Gravina


It was frequently said that the Scots-Irish in Tennessee feared only God himself. And yet another adage about these early pioneers suggested that they kept the Sabbath, as well as anything else they could get their hands on.

from David Crockett, by Michael Wallis


During months of traveling from one small settlement to the next and making joint appearances, the candidates became well acquainted with each other’s standard speech. Crockett cleverly seized on this at one of the many stops and instead of giving his talk last as he always preferred, he agreed to speak first and allow Butler to have the last word. Crockett rose and proceeded to deliver Butler’s stock speech almost verbatim, which, of course, left the flustered doctor scrambling for something else to say when his turn came to speak.

from David Crockett, by Michael Wallis


Such infinitesimal concerns lead to existential caverns. If we can’t explain how time advances from moment to moment, how do we account for change, novelty, creation? How does something emerge from nothing? How does anything — Creation, time itself — begin? The very self comes into question; how am I the same individual that I was a moment ago, or last week, or last year, or as a child? How do I change yet remain continuously me? In a comic Greek play that predates Zeno, one man approaches another to recover some money that he’s owed. The debtor says, in effect, “Oh, but you didn’t borrow from me! I’m no longer the same person I was then, any more than a pile of stones from which we’ve added and removed some pebbles is the same pile of stones.” At this, the first man strikes the second in the face. “Why did you do that?” the second man asks, to which the first replies, “Who, me?”

from Why Time Flies, by Alan Burdick


Matell is quick to emphasize that whatever the neural basis for timing may be, it’s not the same as having an organ for sensing time. The ears detect sound waves, the eyes detect light waves, the nose interprets molecules. “Unlike with other sensory systems, there’s no ‘time material’ that we have a detector for,” Matell said. “Clearly the brain does sense time and controls our behavior, but what the brain is measuring is not objective. It’s subjective time. The brain is paying attention to its own functioning in order to derive some temporal landscape.” As far as human perception is concerned, time is the brain listening to itself talk.

from Why Time Flies, by Alan Burdick


Subsequent studies would clear cyclamates of their cancer connection, and it remains in use in some parts of the world, but in America the sweetener that sparked the creation of diet soda was gone. The cyclamate ban was just the first hit. In early 1970 another study funded by the Sugar Research Foundation came out, this time linking saccharin to bladder tumors in rats, raising the prospect of a ban of the last remaining artificial sweetener approved for use in food and drink. Again the tests involved rats consuming saccharin at levels that would be equivalent to a human guzzling their way through eight hundred diet sodas a day, but the Delaney Clause didn’t deal in gray: substances either caused cancer or they didn’t in its world.

from Fizz: How Soda Shook Up the World, by Tristan Donovan


In May 1975 the first Pepsi Challenge TV commercial aired in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. It showed a loyal Coke drinker testing two unidentified colas, only to be shocked when he opted for the taste of Pepsi. “Pepsi-Cola,” he exclaimed. “Well, I’ll be darned.” More ads followed in Houston, where again Pepsi lagged far behind Coke and Dr. Pepper. Again the Coca-Cola drinker picked Pepsi. The ads, with their spontaneous tone, local sights and people, and suggestion that viewers try the challenge for themselves, caused Pepsi sales to rise.

Coca-Cola was outraged at the aggressive campaign and at the claim that people preferred Pepsi over Coke. The company ordered its researchers to carry out its own taste test, only to find — to its horror and surprise — that Pepsi came out on top.

from Fizz: How Soda Shook Up the World, by Tristan Donovan


“Now, it is a verifiable actuality that any two men can talk politely and even become friends, given the chance; but put them in different uniforms, or train them in the use of different tools or philosophies or shaving soap, and you will have two men who are sure that the other lives primarily to contradict him. I did know a fellow once who insisted that reasonable men can disagree, but somebody knocked him cold with a cast-iron frying pan just then and I never did hear the remainder of his hypothesis.

from Cordelia Underwood or the Marvelous Beginnings of the Moosepath League, by Van Reid


The right to one’s own interpretation [of Scripture] is treated almost as a civil right, a basic human freedom.

from How to Ask Great Questions, by Karen Lee-Thorp


Everyone reads a text through the lens of his or her own culture and experience, but when the rules of logic, the common meaning of words, and the original context of the writing are all thrown out the window, people usually hear only what they want to hear.

from How to Ask Great Questions, by Karen Lee-Thorp


In the case of a biblical text, it’s important to consider what the passage meant in its original context — what the writer might have meant to say to the original audience — before we jump into applying it to our modern situation.

from How to Ask Great Questions, by Karen Lee-Thorp


If the role of opinion in Bible study is much understood, the role of feelings is almost never discussed. Feelings are factors in interpretation that occur whether we approve of them or not, so it makes sense to tap into the benefits they can offer while navigating around the pitfalls they can present.

from How to Ask Great Questions, by Karen Lee-Thorp

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Bird # 488 — Cassin’s Sparrow

aimophila (from aimos, thicket, and philos, to like) cassinii (named for John Cassin, American ornithologist)

Sunday, April 1, 2018 — 9:40 am

El Paso County, Colorado — DeGroot Road

As far as I know, I’ve never been anywhere at the right time of year where seeing a Cassin’s Sparrow was a possibility. They hang out on dry grasslands in Texas, New Mexico, Western Kansas and Eastern Colorado. They’re also nomadic and are often absent from areas where they were common the previous year. I figured I’d have to make a trip to southeast Colorado some summer.

But this week, they were reported in large numbers in the cholla and grass flat lands along Hanover Road in southeast El Paso County. I arrived in the general area around 8:30 am and drove back and forth along the roads with my windows open, listening for the distinct song of the Cassin’s Sparrow. I saw some cool birds — Loggerhead Shrike, Ferruginous Hawk, Curve-billed Thrasher — and heard a steady chorus of Western Meadowlarks, but no sparrows.

I headed south on DeGroot Road to look for a Burrowing Owl that was seen there a couple days ago. I’d only gone about a quarter mile off Hanover Road when I heard a Cassin’s Sparrow.

It was beyond the fence a ways. After looking in vain for several minutes to see if I could see it skylarking (which the guides say the species does), I resorted to a recording of the bird on my phone.

Within seconds, the bird landed on a cholla just beyond the fence.

It flew back and forth to different perches for the 10 minutes I was there, and often sang while perched on the fence itself.

At one point it flew down to the ground and walked about in the grass. It then flew up right toward me and only banked when it got about two feet away. It landed on the road next to my car and looked for the singing “sparrow.” I didn’t want to disturb it anymore, so I quit playing its song after a couple minutes. It flew back to the fence and sang six or seven times before flying off.

It wasn’t an overly-exciting bird to look at, but I sure got good looks. The photo above shows the speckled back that is its most distinguishing feature.

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Royal Gorge Route

We rode the train through the Royal Gorge. It was pricey, but we could have spent a lot more money than we did. Even the hamburgers were $20, so we went foodless.

Before we took off, I climbed up on a nearby bridge to get these shots of our train at the Canon City station.

We went coach, which meant we had to share our set of seats with two other people. They turned out to be a guy from Denver and his German girlfriend. We engaged in some desultory conversation at the start of the ride. Out of nowhere, the guy said to me, “You look like an engineer. I’ll bet you drive a Volvo.”

As soon as we began moving, I left my seat and went out to the open car. I never returned. A guide was standing by to tell people what they were seeing along the way, but for the first couple miles, it was just me, so we had a pleasant conversation.

Looking up at Tunnel Drive Trail on the ledge above the river. I’ve walked it twice — once the week before our train ride and again just this morning. If you look closely, you can see at least one person walking the trail.

Notice the raft in the distance. I rafted the gorge back in 2002.

Canon City used to get their water from the west end of the gorge. The remains of their pipeline still can be seen dilapidating along sides of the cliff. The remains of the intake for the system can be see on the left. The house was where the caretaker lived. I asked the guide why they sourced the water here instead of from the river right in town. He said there is alkali in the gorge and they didn’t have a way to filter it out until recently. The guide kept repeating that the pipeline was built in 1908, “the year the Cubs won the World Series.” I wanted to tel him he needed a new shtick, but I never got around to it.

My wife came out and joined me halfway through and rode with me the rest of the way — as did most of the other people on the train.

That’s the Royal Gorge Bridge overhead. We walked across it the day before.

Crossing the hanging bridge.

I spotted a small flock of Bighorn Sheep on the way west and pointed them out to the few other people on the car. On the way back, there was only one, but she got her picture taken by several hundred people.

If you haven’t yet had enough gorge, here’s a video I took of the outbound trip. It’s in three parts.

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Museum of Colorado Prisons

There are several state and federal prisons in and around Canon City. It probably wouldn’t take me long to find out why, but I haven’t bothered yet. Anyway, there’s one right next to downtown that’s still in use — except for the part that now houses a museum. That’s the part we toured.

The exhibits are displayed in the old cells and in the hallway down the center. We were also allowed downstairs to see the old kitchen and laundry room.

It’s a pretty macabre place. There are photo ops in cells and prison-uniform aprons and socks in the gift shop, but there were also displays about violent and sick prisoners that weren’t at all fun. I won’t bother posting those — except this one.

There were also displays about wardens, escapes, riots, prison life, and labor and crafts done by prisoners. It was rinky-dink and depressing at the same time. We’re glad we went once, but we feel no need to return.

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Royal Gorge Bridge and Park

I rafted through the Royal Gorge back in 2002. I saw the suspension bridge high overhead and the crowds of people lining the train tracks along the bottom of the gorge. But it wasn’t until Easter weekend that we made the hour drive to visit.

It cost us $23 to get in. I found out from the ticket lady that the incline railway down to the river was shut down. There had been a fire in 2013 that wiped out everything in the park except the bridge itself. They’re slowly rebuilding, but the incline isn’t expected to be up and running for another five years or so. They haven’t lowered the price any.

We had beaten the crowds, so we headed right for the aerial gondolas. We crowded into a car with a friendly family of six from Virginia. The ride only took about eight minutes, but it offered impressive views of the gorge, the bridge, and the surrounding landscape.

Most people were taking the gondolas one way and then walking back across the bridge, but since we could ride as often as we wanted, we just turned around and rode back. This time we had our car to ourselves.

We walked over to the bridge. At an overlook on the north side of the gorge, we saw a Peregrine Falcon circle past just above eye level and close.

Here’s a little Royal Gorge humor that I thought was actually pretty funny.

After riding the gondolas and walking across on the bridge, we stepped into the theater and watched a movie about the gondolas and the bridge (and the railroad and the fire). I dashed up to an overlook and took a couple panoramic photos.

We then walked back across the bridge.

Looking west into the gorge. The hanging bridge that carries the train tracks though the gorge was built because there wasn’t enough room for the railroad and the river. The beams were anchored into the walls, and the outside of the tracks were hung over the water. Since then, more footings have been built underneath so that only 10% of the weight hangs from the beams. The other structure in the right foreground is the bottom of the old incline. The wire is part of a system put in place a few years back to keep the bridge from swaying in the wind.

We ate an expensive and mediocre lunch in the cafeteria and debated whether to ride the gondolas again. But the park had filled up, and we knew we’d be crowded in with a lot of other people, so we decided against it.

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