A Batch of US-Mexico Border Mini Travel Clips

Just posted a batch of what I call "mini travel clips," that is, super brief videos, nothing fancy (taken with my iPhone), but edited and with audio—in these, by that jaw-droppingly prolific clangy-bangy soundmaestro of Bridport, U.K., Ergo Phizmiz.


FAR WEST TEXAS MINI CLIPS

Casa Piedra Road, Far West Texas 
(with a view of a fire in Mexico)
(1:06)




> Listen in anytime to my podcast. "A Visit to Swan House." Swan House, a unique adobe teaching house inspired by the legacy of Egypt's greatest architect, Hassan Fathy, is on Casa Piedra Road.

> Read my article in Cenizo Journal, "A Visit to Swan House."


Over Burro Mesa and Into Apache Canyon 
(Big Bend National Park)
(1:06)



> Listen in anytime to my "Marfa Mondays" podcast, "Over Burro Mesa / The Kickapoo Ambassadors"

> Read the essay, "Over Burro Mesa."


Pecos River Crossing (Highway 90, near the US-Mexico border)
(:41)
West of the Pecos is Far West Texas. The end of the video is a gaze south into Mexico.

And I did some slight edits on a video I had posted a few weeks ago, Descent into Eagle Canyon (:53), near Langrty, Texas— Eagle Canyon flows into the Rio Grande on the US-Mexico border.




> Listen in anytime to "Gifts of the Ancient Ones: Greg Williams on the Rock Art of the Lower Pecos Canyonlands."


AND AWAYS YONDER WEST

Finally, almost the border (well, a two hour drive) is Joshua Tree National Park in California (2:24). Herewith my mini travel clip of that:




> More mini travel clips here and
> Mini clips of Far West Texas (apropos of my book-in-progress) here.

> Watch Ergo Phizmiz starring in "I Am the Music Man," a video by Martha Moopette.




>Your COMMENTS are always welcome.

At the US-Mexico Border, Descent into Eagle Nest Canyon

Back in December I went with the Rock Art Foundation down into Eagle Nest Canyon, which drains into the Rio Grande just past the Pecos near Langtry. There was rock art to see, of course, and the second largest buffalo jump in North America. This mini-travel clip, an edited 50 seconds, shows only the descent into that spectacular canyon. 







> More mini-travel clips 

> Visit the Rock Art Foundation at www.rockart.org

> The music is by Ergo Phizmiz under a creative commons license. P.S. Ya'll check out Ergo From the Factory.

> Listen in to my podcast interview with Greg Williams, director of the Rock Art Foundation: Gifts of the Ancient Ones: The Rock Art of the Lower Pecos Canyonlands

Your COMMENTS are always welcome.

Marfa Mondays 16: Tremendous Forms: Paul V. Chaplo on Finding Composition in the Landscape

Happy 2015! Just posted, Marfa Mondays podcast #16 (of a projected 24), an interview with photographer Paul V. Chaplo, author of Marfa Flights: Aerial Views of Big Bend Country (Texas A & M University Press). Recorded at the Texas Book Festival in October, 2014.  

Marfa Flights was published to coincide with the opening of the exhibition of Chaplo's large format color photographs in the Museum of the Big Bend, in Alpine Texas. That show is open through January 18, 2015. Don't miss it!

>Listen in anytime here.

>Listen in to the other Marfa Mondays Podcasts here.

>Find out more about Chaplo's magnificent Marfa Flights here.

A US-Mexico Border Memoir: Lisa G. Sharp's A Slow Trot Home

Lisa G. Sharp, author of the memoir
A Slow Trot Home

It was thanks to Women Writing the West that I first came upon the extraordinary writing of Lisa G. Sharp. Mexicans sit up and take notice when I mention that she's the granddaughter of the owner of the Greene Cattle Company, which had its headquarters in Cananea, a place synonymous with an infamous massacre in the years leading up to the Mexican Revolution. But to get beyond that: A Slow Trot Home, Sharp's memoir about growing up, first in her grandmother's house in Cananea, and then for most of her life on San Rafael, a working cattle ranch a scooch north of the border in a remote corner of Arizona, is one of the most beautifully written and moving memoirs I have ever read. The sweep of the land, the peace and violence of the sky, the people, both Mexican and American, and all the animals, come alive with a rare vividness. It's poetic prose that, in places, breaks open into poetry itself, as with this list in the chapter "Winter":

Frozen water troughs.
Short days.
Matches handy by wood stoves.
A dead calf half eaten by coyotes and vultures.
Dogs curled up by fire places.
Down comforters and flannel sheets.
Bare trees, dormant rose bushes, red berries.
Stews, soups, Christmas tamales.
Fires burned all day long.

By the end, as she returns to visit her mother's lonely grave, one understands what this is: an elegy for a world that is no more. Now the SUVs rumbling by might more likely carry birdwatchers or Border Patrol officers than ranchers or ranch hands. 9/11 changed everything on the US-Mexico Border. And in what had been velvet nights, electric lights from Mexico glow on the horizon.

Literati will note that this is self-published. I think that says far more about the state of publishing than it does this splendid book. I recommend it for anyone interested in a fine read, and especially for anyone interested in ranching culture and the US-Mexico border region.

From Lisa G. Sharp's blog:

Her visit to Cananea (Mexican history buffs, this is a must-read!)

Cowboys, Cattle and Copper (more about Cananea, with lots of photos)

If you're in Arizona, you can catch Lisa G. Sharp on her book tour this fall and winter.

Your COMMENTS are always welcome.

My review of the anthology edited by Sarah Cortez and Sergio Troncoso, 

Our Lost Border

A Visit to Swan House 

(The unique adobe teaching house on the US-Mexico Border

in Presidio, TX)

Tijuana: A Touch of Evil

Cowboy Songs by Cowboys 

(podcast)

Guest-blog by Heidi M. Thomas: 

A Roundup of 5 Things to Know About Old-Time Rodeo Cowgirls

12 Tips for Summer Day Hiking in the Desert (How to Stay Cool and Avoid Actinic Keratosis, Blood, and Killer Bees)

C'est moi on (whew) August 30, 2014 at Meyers Spring,
an important rock art site of the Lower Pecos,
on the US-Mexico border near Dryden, Texas. 
As you can see, in my left hand, I am carrying a 
white umbrella. So I didn't need the hat, and that black 
backpack wasn't the best idea. I also should have worn a 
lightweight bandana. Oh, and more sunblock. 
Always more sunblock.

Just returned from hiking with the Rock Art Foundation in to see the spectacular rock art at Meyers Spring in the Lower Pecos of Far West Texas (yes, there will be a podcast in the Marfa Mondays Podcasting Project, in which I exploring the Big Bend & Beyond in 24 podcasts. More about that anon). 

I got a few things very right on this trip and a few things, well, I could have done better. Herewith, for you dear reader, and for me-- this will serve as my own checklist for the next rock art foray-- 12 tips for summer day hiking in the desert:


1. Don't just bring water, lots of water, more water than you think you can possibly drink-- bring it cold and keep it cold.

Everest Lumbar Waist Pack

Of course, not drinking enough water can be seriously dangerous. But warm water when it's this hot is just bleh--and if you're carrying a plain old plastic water bottle in your hand, out here, boy howdy, it gets hot fast. (Last year, I hiked this way over Burro Mesa in the Big Bend National Park. Six hours. Head-slapper.) The thing is, you don't just want to hydrate; you want to keep your core from overheating, so every swig of cold water really helps. Before heading out, fill your insulated water bottles with lots of ice. In your car, keep them in an ice chest or, if that's not possible, wrapped in a blanket, or whatever's handy, until the moment you have to take them out. I did this for the first time, and wow, what a difference. 
> Recommended: Camelback lightweight insulated water bottle
> Recommended: Everest lumbar waist pack that holds two bottles (and carry a third in-hand).
(What works for you? Suggestions welcome.)

2. Slather on the sunblock.
Yes, sun block stinks and feels gross, but if you're like me -- a descendant of those who once roamed the foggy forests of England, Ireland and Scotland-- if you don't, you may end up helping your dermatologist buy his ski condo. And no, he probably won't invite you.
> Watch this fun video, "How the Sun Sees You."



> For those with actinic keratosis (that's the fancy term for seriously sun-damaged skin), try Perrin's Blend. If that doesn't work, off to the dermatologist you must go. 
> Here's how a bald guy, Tony Overbay, dealt with actinic keratosis using the latest in dermatologist-recommended chemotherapy (uyy, I am hoping my Perrin's Blend works…)
>Recommended: Whole Foods article on how to choose the best sunscreen.

3. Wear a long sleeved white collared shirt.
This protects you against the sun, keeps you cool (the white reflects the sun), protects you from bug bites and scratches. Light clothes always beat dark! Flip the collar up to protect your neck. About scratches: the desert tends to be filled with cactus and thorny scrub. 

4. Knot a light-colored scarf around your throat.
This protects you from the sun. A bandana works fine. Mike Clelland (more about the guru in a moment) suggests cutting the bandana in two, so it's lighter. Porquoi pas? I didn't do this. Alas. Bring on the Perrin's.

5. Wear tough but lightweight trekking trousers.
For the same reason you want to wear the long-sleeved white shirt: trousers protect your body parts, in this case, calves and knees, from sun, scratches, and bugs. Do not wear shorts unless, for some reason you probably should be working on with your psychiatrist, you don't mind scarring and blood. And do not wear jeans. I repeat, do not wear jeans. 
> Recommended: Northface trekking convertible trousers. I wore these on the trip. Very comfortable.

6. Keep your pack as light as possible, in both senses.
Hey, you've not only gotta stay cool, but you've gotta hump all that water! 

A few specifics:
> Use a lightweight pack and carry it on 
your hips, rather than the flat of your back (see photo of lumbar waist pack above). This helps keep your back cool. But I don't speak from experience on this one: I'm going to try this for next time.
> Carry lightweight insulated water bottles.
> Ditch the hat and ditch the heavy hiking boots (more about that below. There are, of course, other places and times when a hat and hiking books would be advisable).
> Skip the camera or use a lightweight camera (I use my iPhone).
> Eat a light breakfast and bring only a little food-- since this is a day hike, you can eat a big dinner when you get back. But you will need sustenance on the trail. I recommend date, fruit and nut bars-- love those Lara bars-- that is, food that is high in energy but won't spoil in the heat, and that doesn't require any dishes or utensils. Don't bring anything with chocolate in it. (I brought a Snicker's bar. Ooey... gooey.)
>Bring a white plastic grocery bag and use it to cover your pack. Two advantages: the white reflects sunlight and keeps it cooler than, say, an unprotected black or other dark-colored pack, and, in case of rain, will help keep it dry. 

> Highly recommended: Mike Clelland's Ultralight Backpackin' Tips, a superb resource for keeping it lighter-than-light, yet making sure to bring what you need for comfort and safety. 
> And be sure to visit Clelland's blog for many helpful videos and more.

7. Watch out for killer bees!
Seriously, Africanized bees have arrived in some desert locales north of the Mexican border. What do bees want? Sweet things and water. So don't carry around open cans or bottles or suddenly pick up open cans or bottles-- bees may smell the water or soft drink from afar, crawl inside, and then, if you do anything they don't like, such as pick up that can, they will go bezerk, and call in their buddies who will also go bezerk and might sting you hundreds of times. No kidding, people and animals have died from killer bee attacks. So be especially careful around any blooming plants where bees might be feeding. Ditto any open water, such as a tank, spring, or any puddle. And whatever you do, if you see a hive, don't go anywhere near it. Normal honey bees, however, are not a problem. Unless you have a severe allergy, a few stings might actually be good for you! (Read more about bee sting therapy on the Apitherapy Association webpage). Your real problem is, it's hard to tell the killers from the honeys until they attack. 

8. Wear gaiters.

www.dirtygirlgaiters.com

I followed Mike Clelland's tip and bought a pair from Dirty Girl Gaiters (they're for guys, too). They weigh about as much as a feather, they're easy to attach to your lace-up running shoes and indeed, they keep the dust out. Their biggest advantage is that you can therefore avoid wearing those ankle-high and heavy hiking boots. You'll exert yourself less and therefore, on the margin, stay cooler. (I'll admit however that on this last hike, a loose ball of bubble-gum cactus went right through the gaiters and stabbed me in the ankle. Oh well!)

9. Forget the hat and trekking pole; use a white umbrella.
Really! Who cares if it looks nerdy? It's nerdier to pass out from  heat stroke or end up looking like a tomato. So let those guys in jeans, black T-shirts, and baseball caps cackle all they want, as they sweat & burn & chafe. The white umbrella protects you from sun and the rain and-- crucially-- helps keep your head cool. A hat will trap heat on your head-- not what you want out here. Plus, in a tight spot, you can also use the umbrella as a trekking pole. Added bonus: scares mountain lions. I would think. Don't take my word for that, however. Also good, once folded, to toss a rattlesnake or tarantula. Not that I've had to do that, either. Just saying.

> Golight Chrome Dome Trekking Umbrella
> Francis Tapon on Why Go Hiking with an Umbrella

Not for National Geographic, but
thanks, iPhone camera app

10. To avoid chafing, first apply an anti-chafe roll-on or cream.

Fortunately for me, I don't have this problem, but a lot of people do. Why suffer?

> See Top Chafing Prevention Products by Wendy Bumgardner

11.  Take it slow and rest often.

In shade, if possible. (Oh, right, you have your umbrella!)

12. In your car, leave a reflector open on your car's dashboard and another over your stash of cold water.
If you've had to park outside, after a day of baking out in the desert, it's going to be an authentic Finnish sauna in there-- unless you use a dashboard reflector. In which case it will still be a very warm-- but far more bearable. I picked up my pair of dashboard reflectors at Walgreen's for $3.99 each and I was glad indeed that I did. Certainly you could also just use a roll of aluminum foil.

COMMENTS always welcome. And you are most welcome to join the mailing list fir my newsletter. Sign up here.

Stay tuned for the next Marfa Mondays podcast which will be about Apaches. Meantime, listen in anytime to the ones that have already been posted, including:

> Looking at Mexico in New Ways: An Interview with John Tutino
> A Spell in Chinati Hot Springs
> Mary Baxter, Painting the Big Bend
> Cynthia McAllister with the Buzz on the Bees

+ + + + + + + + 

SURF ON!

MORE ON MADAM MAYO:

> Why I am a Mega-Fan of the Filofax
> Small Mistake, Mongo Sucking Whirlpool
> Guest-blogger Jennifer Silva Redmond's 5 Favorite Baja California Writers' Websites

AND OVER ON MY HOME PAGE, www.cmmayo.com:

> Mini-Travel Clips, many of the Big Bend (Hoodoos, Lajitas, along the Rio Grande, and more)
> Excerpt from Miraculous Air: Journey of a Thousand Miles through Baja California, the Other Mexico: Bay of Angels
> A Visit to Swan House (article in Cenizo Journal on Simone Swan's visionary adobe teaching house in Presidio, Texas)
> Marfa Mondays Podcasting Project: Exploring Marfa, TX & Environs in 24 Podcasts

A Visit to Swan House: Presidio Texas' Unique Adobe Teaching House Inspired by the Legacy of Hassan Fathy

My article for Cenizo Journal, winter 2013, is now available on my webpage.  (I read this and did a Q & A for PEN San Miguel de Allende, listen in anytime here.)

I first spied it from a Jeep on Casa Piedra Road: a huddle of oddly shaped brown buildings baking in the sun. I'd arrived at its modest gate after a mile and a bit of crunching over gravel up from the Rio Grande near Presidio on the U.S.-Mexico border. What interested me then—I was just starting my book on far West Texas, focusing on the probable route of Alvar Nuñez Cabeza de Vaca, the would-be conquistador of Florida who got lost—was the landscape. Such raw, open vistas were easy to imagine seeing through that ill-starred Spaniard's eyes. From a cloudless dome, the February sun beat down on the rocks and tangles of mesquite and clumps of prickly pear cactus, and ocotillo that stretched on for what must have been, for anyone on foot, a merciless number of miles. To the northwest loomed the bulk of the Chinatis, to the east, the jagged and lavender Bofecillos, and into Mexico, the Sierra Grande.

..."That's Simone Swan's house."

...My guide, Charlie Angell, brought down the window to show me the object, until then mysterious to me, of our detour. He'd been showing me the sights along the Rio Grande- the Hoodoos, Closed Canyon, and the narrow shallows in the river at Lajitas where Cabeza de Vaca, then nearly eight years into his odyssey, may have waded across. Even today, in many places along the river, you could walk right up to its bank, pitch a stone, and it would thunk onto someone's alfalfa field in Mexico. Coming up Casa Piedra Road, we'd seen no one-just a flash of a jackrabbit. Already Charlie was making the U-turn back to Presidio.

..."It's Egyptian," he added.

...This, in a land of décor inspired by what I had come to think of as Ye Olde Cowboys & Indians, struck me like thunder. Well, was it like the inside of a Disneyland ride? Did she worship Isis? Once home, I Googled.

...Simone Swan, it turned out, is an adobe visionary with a distinguished career in the arts, including many years with Houston's Menil Foundation; her house, not Egyptian, exactly, nor a whim, but a work-in-progress used by her Adobe Alliance, a nonprofit for teaching earthen design and construction. And the Egyptian influence? Hassan Fathy.

...Not Fathy as in "Cathy," as an Egyptian acquaintance was quick to correct me, but Foh'tee.

...Another Google search bought up his book, published by the University of Chicago Press in translation from the French, Construir avec le peuple, as Architecture for the Poor. When I got my hands on a copy, I learned that Fathy was Egypt's greatest 20th century architect, renowned for rescuing ancient architectural features and techniques for building with mud brick, a material he passionately advocated for as abundant, and, when used appropriately, comfortable, ecological, sanitary, and beautiful.
...
...In his photo, he might have passed for an elderly Mexican lawyer with his halo of gray hair, mustache, red turtleneck and poncho-like burnouse. He squinted from behind his glasses in an expression at once pained and kind—entirely understable once I learned of his battles with the Egyptian bureaucracy, then enamored of Soviet-style steel and concrete housing, and his nonetheless unyielding commitment to building housing for and with the fellaheen, the peasants who lived in abject poverty.

...Born in 1900 into a wealthy family in Alexandria, Fathy did not set foot on one of his own family's many farms until he was in his twenties, and when he did, the wretchedness of its workers' houses shocked him. His solution, in part, was to build with better design and mud brick. Mud could be dug up easily, bricks could formed of the mud, animal dung, and a bit of straw, and then left to bake in the sun. The challenge was the cost of timber for roofing and, for brick vaults, timber for propping them up during construction. Egypt imported its timber from Europe. Then World War II broke out.

...Ancient Egyptians built vaults, many of which had survived for hundreds, even thousands of years, without using wood, but how? Every one of Fathy's attempts to construct a roof without wood collapsed in a heap of bricks and dust. But then his brother, who was working on the Aswan dam, mentioned that the Nubians, the dark-skinned people of Southern Egypt and Northern Sudan, roofed their houses and mosques without using wood.

In an a matter of two visits to Aswan, Hassan Fathy found the masons, barefoot and in turbans, who showed him their technique of roofing by means of parabola-shaped layers of adobe bricks laid at an angle against a back wall. The bricks had extra straw for lightness, and a groove, made by the scrape of a finger before they'd dried, on one side, so as to give the mortared brick "grab." Mortar was a mix of sand, clay, and water. Using no tools other than an adze, and a plank for scaffolding, two men threw up a fine mud-brick roof over a 10' x 13' room in one and a half days.

...Marveled Fathy, "It was so unbelievably simple."

...When Simone Swan was living in New York, a house with two courtyards came to her in a dream. And it seemed like a dream to me that, less than a year after I'd first glimpsed Swan House from the road, I was sitting with its owner in the Nubian vault that was the living room, the shell high above us aglow with the orange light of morning. A graceful eighty-something with a crown of snow-white hair, Simone Swan was telling me how, at mid-life in the 1970s, she had gone to Paris for the Menil Foundation's exihibition of the surrealist Max Ernst's paintings, and at a dinner party, met a filmmaker who had just wrapped a documentary on the world's greatest architect.

...Simone laughed. "I said, Hassan Who?"   . . . . CONTINUE READING

Marfa Mondays #10: A Visit to Swan House

Listen in to the podcast here of my lecture for PEN San Miguel on January 29, 2013 in San Miguel de Allende's Teatro Angela Peralta, about literary travel writing in the digital age and-- starting at about 15:00--  "A Visit to Swan House," my article in the current issue of Cenizo Journal, about adobe visionary Simone Swan's mysteriously beautiful teaching house near Presidio, on the US-Mexico border in Far West Texas.

"A Visit to Swan House" is #10 in the 24 podcast series.


#9 Mary Baxter, Painting the Big Bend

#8 A Spell at Chinati Hotsprings

#7 The Marfa Lights: We Have Seen the Lights

#6 Marfa's Moonlight Gemstones

#5 Cynthia McAlister, the Buzz on the Bees

#4 Avram Dumitrescu, An Artist in Alpine

#3 Mary Bones on the Lost Art Colony

#2 Charles Angell in the Big Bend

#1 Introduction and welcome

Want to be notified when the next podcast is available? Sign up for my free newsletter which goes out about 3 - 5 times a year (opt in or out or back in automatically anytime).

***UPDATE Jan 2014: "A Visit to Swan House" is now available on-line.

A Conversation with Sergio Troncoso, Author of From This Wicked Patch of Dust

A new and, of course, free, podcast in the Conversations with Other Writers series:

A conversation with Sergio Troncoso on Chicano literature, the book ban in Arizona, the US-Mexico border, 911, writing for New York, blogging, the culture of reading, and much more.

>>Read my review of Troncoso's From This Wicked Patch of Dust and Crossing Borders: Personal Essays for Literal Magazine, reproduced by permission here.

>>About the Conversations with Other Writers podcast series

>>Listen in anytime to previous conversations with:
Michael K. Schuessler
Edward Swift
Sara Mansfield Taber
Solveig Eggerz

>>So what's up with the monthly Marfa Mondays podcasts? Just slightly delayed due to unexpected developments... two more, for August and September 2012, will be very posted soon. Stay tuned on the home page. Ditto the iBookstore interactive ebook, Podcasting for Writers.