Ghostblog Hantu dan Mitos

My final posting is from the San Diego Zoo, plus some pics from Albie and Court's abode and a final one from LA. His name's Bosch. He's a cutie. Bosch and Coco. A big, dirty, ole polar bear stretched out. Ellie. We saw bigger ones in South Africa. I believe these are California condors. Awwww... it a baby giraffe. It cute. Yours truly on the shuttle from Avis to LAX. Naturally, I'm deeply skeptical of leaving the US.

The last touristy thing I did in Arizona, was go visit the Rooster Cogburn ostrich ranch, which lies appx. 45 mins northwest of Tucson. They had some ostriches, true, but mainly a bunch of other animals you could feed and/or pet. Ever the sucker for fluffy animals, I forked over the entrance money and was given a few cups with various foodstuffs and was instructed on when to feed what to whom. I then spent a couple of hours walking around doing precisely that. They advertise themselves as the darndest place you'll ever see. I'm not ready to go that far, but as these things go, they're pretty darned. The first animal I encountered was this little donkey, who seemed only interested in the food I had. No love there. Then I went over to a large bird cage, where insanity ensued every time I stuck this pin, dipped in birdseeds, in between the railings. I then walked over to the deer enclosure, where almost every animal was dozing in the shadow, out of the blistering midday sun. O...

I'd spent a wonderful day in Tucson six years earlier , and was determined to repeat the success. However, as I was still feeling under the weather, I really only did a quick run through Old Tucson. The place has served as a stand in for dozens of moves and TV-series and if not for the throngs og tourists, you could imagine yourself in the Old West - or maybe Westworld. A choo-choo train for the little ones. I think being a conductor on one of these trains would rapidly drain away my last vestige of joie de vivre. Only the clothes have really changed. Stagecoach, where one could take a brief tour if one was so inclined. I had no food, so he paid no interest in me. Still no Wu or his pigs. The front of a Spanish style church building. Three stuntmen kept us amused for a while with jokes and shenanigans. Ah bought thish. Not that it helped me much in the end.

Tuesday, I made my way, nice and slow, from Ridgecrest down to Blythe, just a few miles from the Arizona border. Wednesday I've done three touristy things, two of 'em in Phoenix. The first place I stopped at was Barry Goldwater Memorial Park. It is a very peaceful and well construed little park, at the intersection of two busy streets. Placards on this wall enumerate some of Barry's many achievements. The park has cacti. And bushes. And running water. The piece de la resistance is this larger than life statue of Barry Goldwater. It kinda looks like he's got a beer can in one hand, but upon closer look, you'll find it is a camera. Photography and filming was a great passion of his, and he spent countless hours documenting the landscapes of this beautiful state and its inhabitants, including the injuns Natives, whom he had great respect for. The Ghost and his namesake. Now, I'd heard that maybe there were some items at the Arizona State Capitol Museum related to ...

Sunday we left Yosemite; mah crew went home to San Diego while I was unceremoniously dumped at the airport in Bakersfield to fend for myself. Ok, not really. Anyways, I drove up to Ridgecrest and then Monday on to Death Valley, as far as the sand dunes of Mesquite Flats. Then, I drove CA-190 and CA-136 from Panamint Valley, over the mountains into lovely, quaint, cozy, snug, little Lone Pine. After lunch at the country's purdiest McDonald's, I drove up to the parking lot under Mount Whitney and then down to Ridgecrest again. The route is as close to a pilgrimage as I'll ever come. I took this video on the way from Ridgecrest to Death Valley, just to give y'all an idea of how barren and lifeless it all looks. I am skeptical of the sand dunes. Video of said dunes. Video from the vista point where the road starts to descend into Owen's Valley. It is a view that never fails to lift the spirit... and make me dance around, while reciting from The Sound of Music. Again, no...