Quattro Falco: Part II

Back in June, I posted a photo of four juvenile American kestrels (Falco sparverius Linn.) that I sighted on a utility pole behind my house. December was another four-falcon month, only this time it was four species, rather than just four siblings.

During this most-recent 31-day period, I was finally able to get my field glasses on a pair of peregrine falcons (F. peregrinus Tunstall), a merlin (F. columbarius Linn.) and just yesterday, a prairie falcon (F. mexicanus Schlegel). Add these to the near-daily sightings of what are likely a few of the same American kestrels from the prior photo, or at least one or both of their parents, and I have all four of the falcons I could reasonably expect to see in eastern Pima County. It does, however, make me wonder what other diurnal raptors I might have seen were I to have traveled.

Nevertheless, the four falcons are among the 78 bird species I sighted in, over, or at some distance from my house during 2007. Further, that's 78 of the 84 species I've been lucky enough to see (and ID correctly, I hope) since moving here in autumn 2003. I'm looking forward to more "big sits" in 2008, though I do need to remember to: (a) bird somewhere other than in my front yard from time to time; and (b) more than occasionally ride a bicycle.

Oh, and Happy New Year!

1138

Yet more plans have gone awry, albeit largely of my own doing. More bicycling? Nope; current excuses are alternating between it being too cold or too windy, and/or me being too lazy. Less weight lifting? Well, I'm doing fewer reps but am working out no less frequently. And now, two weeks of daily dog walks with Clayton and Dora have come to an abrupt end due to a small amount of getting bit while helping break up a scrap over a leftover rawhide chew. My hand seems a bit effed-up, so this last event might even force me to dial back on the other three. If it affects my ability to hold my binoculars, birding will go on hiatus as well. Either that, or I'm overreacting and will be fine by tomorrow.

On the other hand (literally - the one that doesn't have canine punctures), I've reacquainted myself with my inner geek by getting back into Star Wars. My wife and I are both old enough to have been into it since the beginning, just over 30 years ago. We spent the last few days watching all the movies, pausing here and there to shop for figures. BeanSS is into Jedi, while I dig on all things Fett. Searches of Craigslist for bike parts have been replaced by random perusals of Wookieepedia. Ah, to be a nerd again.

And for what it's worth, I agree with Dante Hicks that Empire had the better ending.

Killing quality time

I woke up this morning to find both a tiercel and falcon peregrine (Falco peregrinus Tunstal) perched in the eucalyptus snag that sits a few hundred meters north of my house. This particular collection of bare boughs and branches is/was one of the largest trees in the neighborhood and thus, has the sort of commanding, 360° view favored by birds of prey. It's also perfectly positioned to have a spotting scope trained on it from my side patio. Someday, a howling wind or a worried arborist is going to take that dead tree down. The hawk watching will never be the same.

The longer this vacation lasts, the more I'm unwinding. I wake to the first rays of the morning sun and the stirrings of our dogs, not the shrill beeping of an alarm in the pitch black. I eat my knockoff Lucky Charms, drink as much of my fancy-pants coffee as I please, walk the mongrels, and sit for hours watching birds before riding or working out. Oh, and it's not just birds I watch - three coyotes (Canis latrans Say) cruised up the dirt road this morning. One banked into a patch of desert across the street, one went south of the house next to the wash, and the third went up my driveway. I suppose I was surrounded. Oh well.

I'm also enjoying myself more now that the first couple of winter-type storms have come and gone. Yes, the southwest needs rain and snow but no, I don't enjoy being trapped in the house by inclement weather. On the other hand, the gentle rains and subsequent sunshine left the trails in state of perfect tackiness today - soft enough to accept tire tracks, dry enough not pack the knobs, and not a drop of mud to cake the frame. Yeah, it's all good here in southern Arizona.

The annual un-clenching

My annual almost-a-month of end-of-year, use-it-or lose-it vacation time is officially underway and I won't need to see my desk until next year. Don't feel too envious - this one big 6-month work project, a summer and fall spent dwelling way too much on how unbearably bad things were going last summer and fall, and exorbitant gasoline costs combined to prevent me and BeanSS from taking any substantive time off to do anything or go anywhere special all year up to this point.

Anyway, I'm trying to put all of that behind me and I hope to use the next few weeks to get the fuck out of this funk. It had better be successful, too, because work is going to start right back up as hectic as ever the very minute I get back. To that end, and to end that, I resolve to purchase more lottery tickets in 2008.

At any rate, for the next month, there will be more cycling but no bike commuting. I will engage in less-frequent weight lifting, and will consume beer in moderation. Dogs will be played with and walked. I will try, and fail, to grow a beard. I will endeavor to assemble no less than two "new" working bicycles from the heap of parts in my workshop. I may hit up the Santa Cruz Flats and/or the Sulphur Springs Valley to add a few new bird species - especially certain northern raptors - to the life list. I want to be free from grown-up responsibilities for just this little while.

Now, if it would just stop raining and being cold, I could get going on all of this.

If there's no event, is it still training?

As often as not, I use this blog to announce not only the things I intend to do, but also the things I do not intend to do. Brother Veelz saw my post about wussing out on SSWC08, and thus assumed I'd be man enough to duo the 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo with him. I've been thoughtfully considering his offer, discussing it with BeanSS, and carefully examining the training schedule I'd need to implement between now and Presidents' Day weekend. I still haven't decided, though I'm leaning towards improving on my wuss-out percentage for 2008. Stay tuned.

No matter my decision, there'll be no substantive training today, as Tucson is in the midst of a wet and windy winter storm. I might be able to lift weights, but I'll have to be careful not to smear the actively-rusting plates and hex weights on myself. All that iron is made in China, so I can assume the paint is lead-based. Also, I'm also a bit beat down from having just come back from a work trip to Silver City. The driving wasn't so bad, and the short birding excursions behind the hotel were as low of an intensity as exercise can be. What cashed me in was my first introduction to running on a treadmill in the hotel's fitness center. I ride. I lift. I hike. I almost never run. High impact exercise is probably not the best thing for a clydesdale's body - especially since riding a singlespeed abuses my knees already. I have to admit, though, that it hurts pretty good.

So much complaining to do, so little time.

Loco dreams

I guess the El Pollo Loco I had for dinner last night was coming back up on me while I slept because I had a pretty vivid dream. In this dream, I was riding a midnight blue Surly Steamroller from my parents' old house in northwest Phoenix to Glendale Community College. I've never ridden a fixed-gear before, so it was nice to be able to test ride one in my sleep. The weird part was that the crank arms felt like they were about 75mm long, and the bike seemed to have about 1:1 gear on it. I was pedaling like mad in these tiny circles but wasn't really making any headway. Our two dogs then started stomping around the bed, which woke me up and ended the dream. I have no idea if I'd have made it all the way to GCC.

Here's the thing. I often dream that I'm doing things I wish I could do in real life, but have never been able to. And I don't mean stuff like being able to fly or travel through time, it's more mundane than that. Specifically, I have recurring dreams that I can: (a) do chin-ups; and (b) ride wheelies. I've done exactly one chin-up in my life - from the shower curtain rod in my dorm during college. My longest-duration wheelie lasted about 3 seconds, also during college. These sorts of dreams mock me when I wake up from them.

I distinctly remember that in last night's dream, I hopped on the bike in a perfect cyclocross-style running re-mount, sliding right into the saddle while my feet met up in perfect time with the rotating pedals. I used to work on that very thing when I lived in Sacramento. I worked at it because, while attending a NCNCA cyclocross clinic, I managed to bend the seat post and saddle rails within my first few tries. On my last re-mount attempt, I somehow put my cleated shoe in the back wheel, taco-ing the hell out of it. I, of course, didn't have a spare bike or wheelset, so I couldn't participate in the post-clinic CX race. I spent a long time trying to get better at getting back on the bike, but I never mastered it.

Back to the present day - what I'm hoping is that the part of last night's dream that I am doomed to never experience is the running re-mount, not the riding of a fixie safely, in traffic. While I really don't have a need to be able to hippety-hop into the saddle, I'd like to think one of the beat-up and broken-down old road frames in my workshop will live again as a fixie and that I'll be able to operate the damned thing.

I other news, the sun is once again shining on the Old Pueblo after a coupla' days of much-needed rain. I've got the motivation to either lift weights in the warm, clean air or go ride on some nice, tacky trails, but not both. December is the month during which I've vowed to become a bicyclist again, but I can't entirely give up on working out, either. To make the decision more straightforward, I went ahead and filled up the feeders in the front yard. If I can't decide between pushing pedals and pumping iron, maybe I can just sit on my arse and look at birds.

No Napa

I'm going to stop kidding myself and just bag on my participation in the SSWC08 right here and now. I checked out the Ogre's rundown of the Skyline Wilderness Park trail system and have decided against driving 18 hours each way - not to mention dropping major coin on gas - so I can hike-a-bike my singlespeed around in a sweltering oak woodland with a bunch of other inebriates. I can only hope that someone from the southwest is able to win the post-race, grab-ass talent show so that the event can be brought to a closer and/or more desirable venue in 2009.

And, come late August, if my decision has me feeling left out, I'll set up camp near Sonoita, down a six-pack, and hammer the oak-lined trails at Kentucky Camp until I barf.