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Pete's Churchill Odyssey 2005

27th Oct 2005
Saguaros at sunrise ... and sunset

Thursday, 27th October,
Anne had ‘teed up’ an opportunity for me to borrow a golf cart this morning and get a shot around the course with my camera, with the specific intention of photographing some of the cacti on the golf course. These saguaros were at the sides of the fairways, or near tee-offs and had golf balls plugged into them, or were quite seriously damaged on the side facing the tee-off, where balls had bruised and bounced off them.
Ben and I picked up the cart at 6.50 and were back about half an hour later. It seems pointless in mentioning the weather, but it was once again fantastic.
For the rest of the morning Ray and I were going out to the East Saguaro National Park to have a look at some of the original ‘Changing Mile’ photo locations and I invited Ben and Harry along for the ride.
We arrived at Rays at 9 after a quick rummage through some of his rephotography titles which he had laid out on the dining room table, we probably got into the park at about 10. The park has a twenty mile loop road around it which we drove around stopping at about three or four locations to view the changes. The locations we looked at were all fairly close to the road and quite difficult to align, due to the increase in shrub .. I retook a few with Ray holding ‘The Changing Mile Revisited’ up for comparison.
The idea was that we would explore West Saguaro NP ourselves this afternoon and we duly arrived back at Rays at midday and the house about half an hour later. Nick had entertained himself by striking a deal with the golf course in order to go and knock a couple of buckets of balls on the driving range.
For the first part of this afternoons expedition, we made our way downtown and hunted out the Centre for Creative Photography which is based on campus and was set up by Ansel Adams. It holds the Adams archive along with photographs from other prominent photographers such as Weston and Strand and many, many others – among them Klett.
On show was a small selection from the Adams archive, a selection from the general archive and an exhibition of the pictures of Edward Meatyard.
We didn’t stay too long; another time it would be fun to request a print viewing in advance and look through some of the images they have in detail.
We took ‘Subway Road’ out towards West Saguaro and the Desert Museum. A bit of a hiccup at the first museum we got to. “OK guys here we are, lets get in here” … “Errr this doesn’t quite look like what we’re after …. But…. Oh well”.
We paid our dues and tried to use the complimentary tickets proffered by Ray for our visit only to find that the desert museum was another four miles along the road. They were very good about it and refunded our money. The content of this particular museum is stuffed African wildlife …. and as we’d all seen most of the specimens romping around the bush last year, as opposed to hanging up on a museum wall with a rather fixed smile on their faces, it wasn’t for us.
The Desert Museum is fantastic and the drive to it, lined with saguaros; an insight into what an unspoilt desert landscape would have looked like. We were quite late in getting to the museum – just after three; the winding paths around the museum hide an intricate selection of habitats and species found in the deserts, from spiders and geckos to mountain lions and black bears. The bears were the low point; they looked hot and stressed and paced their concrete pit incessantly. We finished shortly after five, having completed all the trails and clocked most of the exhibits …
The whole setting has been made, with wire formed hollow rocks and wire welded plants forming animal cages; it really was impossible to tell the difference.
Back up the road towards the pass we pulled in at one of the laybys to take a shot of the hillside which was by now turning a deep, deep pink and looking slightly bizarre with the almost lime-green stalks of the cacti standing in ranks across it. I put on my walking boots quickly in preparation fro wandering through the brush. As I left the car, I was hailed from my right and saw, through the gloom, the waving arm of an American photographer.
At first I thought that I had drifted into his view and was ruining his sunset but no, he called me over and then proudly told me he had been scouting the road for the last two days and had selected THE best spot from which to take a cactus picture at sunset. He had even marked it by scuffing a cross into the sand just where he stood.
“Would I like to take a shot?” “Well thank you very much …” so I stepped up and took a frame … “Its better vertical …” “Oh, OK” so I took another … “Well, thanks very much …” “Aren’t you going to stay for the sunset? This is the best place.” Anyway, in a landscape filled with unique cacti, I declined his kind offer and moved back to the car and slightly further up the road to where a number of other vehicles were pulled off to the side.
We all split in various directions and I headed out to an old, limbed saguaro about fifty yards from the road. It wasn’t an ideal specimen but by this time the sun was dropping like a stone. Just as I was lining up a pic, I kicked a prickly pear. Big mistake. Two huge thorns went straight through the toe of my boot (ouch!) click (ouch, s***) click hobble, (ouch, s***) click, hobble, click, hobble hobble, click. Took another couple of frames then turning attention to my boot. The thorns had gone straight through the boot and pinned into my toe – difficult to get your foot out of your boot when that happens so there was a bit more swearing and quite a lot of blood, while ‘the operation’ was completed.
Jammed the boot back on a took a few more frames. I took another two thorns out of the boot after I took them off, these had just penetrated the leather but had broken off before penetrating me. Anyway, lesson learned; prickly pear cacti have sharp thorns!
After returning to base and doing a preliminary back for departure tomorrow, we went out to another of Anne’s recommendations. As we arrived at Uno, there was a bit of ‘a domestic’ going on outside; a big burly guy in a stretched white tee shirt, was pointing his finger into the face of his wife/girlfriend/drinking partner and shouting that it was alright for the guy back in the bar … but HE didn’t want to go back into prison again … Ho hum.
Inside, the bar was decked out with clothes lines and pairs of white socks; The White Sox yesterday won the world series and this is apparently, due cause for celebration. Nothing of note during the meal apart from Mr Domestic Violence appeared back in the bar intent on making up with his amore by plying her with a bit more drink.

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Diary Photos

Anne`s Coyote

Pygmy owl

Desert at Sunset

Dinner at Unos

Ray Turner
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