Sunday, November 1, 2009

I Forgot About The Switch To Standard Time, Seattle vs. Dallas & Last Day For Texas Giant

I thought I slept in this morning, getting up at 6:30. I was half an hour into staring at the computer monitor when I realized I'd forgotten about the time change.

One benefit of the change is the sun lit up the place an hour earlier than it did yesterday. I thought my morning swim would be warmer than yesterday's, due to the fact that we got into the 70s yesterday. But the water didn't seem to pick up any of that heat.

My therapist, Dr. L.C., felt compelled to once more opine that she questions my sanity regarding going swimming. Apparently she stuck her hand in her pool and had to use a heat pad to recover from the shock. I think she exaggerates.

The Seattle Seahawks are in town, playing in the new Dallas Cowboy stadium for the first time. I suspect Dallas will defeat Seattle. I learned of this game whilst reading this morning's Seattle P-I. It starts at 10am Seattle time, which would make it noon here. Do all those football fans do the beer drinking, barbecuing, tailgating thing when the game starts early?

I have only been to one NFL football game in my life. Years ago in the Kingdome. I have no memory of who Seattle was playing. I do remember thinking watching football on TV is a lot easier than watching it from seats up high in a stadium. When you're there in person and the game stops for a commercial break it seems disorienting. You couldn't really watch the cheerleaders do their thing during the commercials because they were so far away and tiny. This was before the invention of giant TV screens.

I'd go Arlington and try and walk amongst the hoopla and take pictures, but I can think of no way to do this without paying $40 to park. Which I'm not going to do.

Today is the last day you can ride the Texas Giant Wooden Roller Coaster at Six Flags Over Texas. The last train leaves the station at 7pm. It is being re-built into a faster, smoother, less bone-jarring ride with new elements never before seen on a wooden roller coaster. Or so the hype says.

I have ridden the Texas Giant exactly once. I found it back wrenching in addition to bone-jarring. I like roller coasters. I did not like the Texas Giant. The new version of the Texas Giant is supposed to be ready to go for the opening of the 2011 Six Flags season.

Pre-Dawn Fort Worth Fire Lights Up The Tandy Hills

Incoming from Don Young reporting about a house on fire very close to home and the Tandy Hills. Currently I don't think there are any suspicions that this fire was in any way caused by Barnett Shale gas drillers.....

FIRE ON VIEW STREET

The house next door to mine burned to the ground this morning. We noticed a very bright sunrise coming in our window when it was supposed to be dark, about 5 am. The FWFD was here in less than 3 mins.

The place has been vacant for several years and had a lot of wood in it. Burned steady since there was little wind. The FD is still here at 8:20. Arson is suspected but it could also be someone stealing copper from the electrical system that was still turned on.

My property values are dropping rapidly.

DY

Note to DY: Your Earthlink mailbox is full and is bouncing back email.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Damage Done By Mother Nature & Barnett Shale Gas Drillers In Fort Worth's Gateway Park

With the Tandy Hills still drying out from our most recent deluge my fallback Saturday hiking location, for the 3rd Saturday in a row, was Gateway Park.

I really wished the Tandy Hills had been dry today, it being Halloween, so I could have searched for the mysterious Witchey Tree and the Death Van. But, going to Gateway Park gives me a good chance to check on the current status of the Barnett Gas Driller's damage done to the Trinity River levee in the process of sucking water out of the Trinity River.

I found it ironic that today at Gateway Park, by the ball fields, I saw the sign you see here, warning violators that they are subject to penalty if they commit the crime of going on the game field to practice or play an ickup game. Whatever an ickup game is.

I suppose Fort Worth wants to protect the precious fields from potential damage caused by someone playing on them. Damage like ruts.

As I walked across the bridge that leads from Gateway Park to the Trinity Trails I could hear the roar of the diesel pump busy sucking water out of the river. It was real loud today due to there being no competing noise, like wind.

I was not too shocked to see that the damage done to the levee has gotten much worse, the ruts much bigger, the mud much more widespread.

I am fairly certain the violators have suffered no penalty.

The ruts and mud are so bad now that I don't know if I could have made it past the pump, like I did before, to check out what the pump intake, stuck into the river, looks like.

I saw another interesting thing at Gateway Park today. I've made mention, previously, of the boarded up boardwalk on the southwest side of the park. The boardwalk is an elaborate work of wood that takes you down to the Trinity River by a series of switchbacks. There are 2 of these in the park. I'd not seen the other one, to see if it is boarded up, til today.

The other boardwalk is at the southeast end of the park. The times I've seen this boardwalk it has been in worse shape than the boarded up with "closed" signs one.

So, I was not too shocked to see the southeast boardwalk closed. Except it was not closed by a "closed" sign. Mother Nature closed down the 2nd boardwalk. A tree had crashed down onto the boardwalk, effectively closing it. Just beyond the closure the Trinity River had deposited a lot of mud, which made a second barrier.

That's been my exciting Halloween in Texas, so far. A cold swim well after the sun came up. Looking for ruts and mud at Gateway park. And other stuff I'm forgetting right now.

The Legend Of The Witchey Tree Of Tandy Hills: A Halloween True Story From Don Young

A Tandy Hills Halloween True Story from Don Young....

Long, long ago, before Tandy Hills Natural Area, was appreciated for what it truly is, most people thought of it as nothing more than a big, empty field, a place to dump trash, roll tires down the steep hills, bury dead dogs or lose your kite. Hobo's occasionally wandered through looking for a place to sleep off a hangover. Parents warned their kids to stay away or they'd get lost and eaten by wildcats or worse, kidnapped. It was a dangerous kind of a no-man's land in the middle of the growing city.

It was especially popular with roofers as a place to dump scrap shingles. Builders putting up new homes along View Street would excavate the rich prairie soil for fill-dirt. Sometimes they would dump unused concrete, motor oil and other unmentionables.

But to certain people looking for a certain kind of love (or a reasonable facsimile on short notice), the Tandy field was also a place to hide from prying eyes. In those olden days, before their was a steel cable to keep vehicles out, you could drive a vehicle off road and right through the park. And lots of people did.

Today, there are about half a dozen bent and rusty vehicles wedged in the steep, limestone drainages of THNA. The stories of how they got there and who put them there are lost in the mists of the time passed. Except for one...

The Legend of the Witchey Tree of Tandy Hills!

No one knows for sure what happened but, as the urban legend goes...

On a moonless October night in the wicked 1960's, a handsome young eastside couple, overcome with hormonal urges, was in search of a place to... smooch, more comfortably and discreetly. Weaving down View Street in the deepening darkness of dusk, the young man finally found an opening in the curb, killed his headlights and turned the van into Tandy field.

From the road, THNA looks wide open and flat as a pancake. But the young lovers would soon discover why they now call it Tandy Hills. Following the well-worn tracks of previous interlopers they headed in a northerly direction.

Driving with the van's lights off was dangerous, but the young driver could see just well enough to guide the van down the rutted path. The bright lights of downtown Fort Worth twinkled in the west like colored stars. The sky above was cloudy and streaked with searchlights. The air was cool and a bit on the humid side. The couple's passion began to engulf them.

With one eye periodically on the road and the other eye on his sweethearts long dark hair the young man squinted into the night as he slowly negotiated the narrow road between tall stands of Indian Grass. Suddenly, out of nowhere, something struck the windshield with a muffled boom.
The couples' passion quickly cooled, like volcanic magma does when it edges into the sea, as they tried to understand what had happened. The young man tapped the brakes and drew the big van to a stop. Telling his sweetheart not to worry, he opened the glove box and reached for a flashlight.

He clicked on the light and stuck his head out the window scanning the hood looking for... he didn't know what. Feeling a little overheated and excited he nearly screamed when he saw it. There on the hood lay a startled Great Horned Owl with a dead rat in its mouth, blood dripping from both. When the girl saw it she shrieked and buried her face in the young man's red flannel shirt as the owl gathered its prey and lifted of into the darkness. The young man quickly switched off the flashlight.

By this time a light drizzle had started falling from the overcast sky. It landed quietly and tenderly on the roof of the van reminding the young man of why they came to the Tandy field. Squeezing his gals hand he moved his lips closer to hers, but she turned away. Her eyes said it all. Time to take her home.

Realizing the futility of his situation, the young man reluctantly shifted the van into REVERSE, turned the steering wheel sharply and and slowly backed up. Disoriented from the run-in with the owl and the creeping fog that had formed he put the van back into DRIVE, stepped hard on the gas pedal and headed in a... westerly direction.

The young man survived in a vegetative state for a few years, living in an old house near the park but his beautiful, young girlfriend died at the scene. But that's not quite the end of the story.

As the van speedily plummeted down the ravine at a 45 degree angle, it bounced over boulders and clipped a few old trees before it slammed with ripping force into the hard-rock creek bed. It nearly sheared the top off of a particularly robust young tree. At the precise moment when the tree was struck, the windshield of the van partially severed the young woman's head from her body.

That's also the exact moment when one tree died but...

The Witchy Tree of Tandy Hills was born!

As you can clearly see from these photographs, the original tree was cruelly deformed. The proud top half was bent sharply downwards but not quite severed. Years passed, but the damaged top did not fall away from the trunk, as one might expect. It remained intact, clinging to the trunk for some weird kind of survival.

The near-decapitated trunk eventually grew a new shoot, a robust growth that produced pretty new leaves every Spring. Each Autumn, around October, the leaves turned lovely shades of red and gold. But the broken, former top growth remained attached, surviving fierce storms and crushing drought. As the decades passed the slender branches of the old, dead treetop began to resemble long dark hair, eventually turning ashen grey, as they do to this day.

The old van, still entombed in the rocky ravine, was long ago cannibalized for spare parts. It remains hidden from prying eyes by new trees, prairie grass and briars. It's only inhabitants are a few spiders and maybe a wasp nest or two. Few people know it exists. Fewer still remember the tragedy of long ago that the rusting shell of death now symbolizes.

But on certain evenings, when walking home after dark from a hike, I hear a macabre moaning sound coming from the direction of...

The Witchey Tree of Tandy Hills!

Welcome to Tandy Hills. Come on in, if you dare!!!

DY

PS: Do not ask where the Witchey Tree grows nor search for the vehicle that lies entombed in the abyss, else you risk a chill to the depths of your soul.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Walking With The Devil In Arlington Looking At Caelum Moor Environmental Art

Last Sunday I had to abort an attempt to check out what is being called Caelum Moor Environmental Art, due to a Dallas Cowboy football game left me no place to park. Today I figured there would be no football game and since I was in Arlington, I'd check out the satanic sculptures that have some local bible thumpers in full thump mode, predicting all sorts of dire devilish harm to come to Arlington, which is clearly ridiculous.

Arlington long ago, well, about 5 years ago, sold its soul to the devil when Arlington allowed Jerry Jones to commit the worst case of eminent domain abuse in American history. I really don't think these devilish Caelum Moor pieces of rock are going to cause the evictions of thousand and destruction of 100s of buildings.

When I arrived in the stadium/ballpark area I was concerned I was heading towards another aborted visitation. There were a lot of cars parked by the Ballpark in Arlington. I was fairly certain the regular baseball season was over, that the World Series was in play and that the devil has made it certain that the Texas Rangers will never play in the World Series, at least not this year. And likely not next year.

Speaking of the Ballpark in Arlington, where no World Series game has ever been played, that's it in the background on the right. Further in the background, on the left, you can see the Titan Hypercoaster at Six Flags Over Texas. And in the foreground, you get a second look at the first Caelum Moor Environmental Art you saw in the second picture above. This piece sits out in the lake and drips water. I do not know the name of the lake that is on the north end of the Ballpark in Arlington. The Richard Greene Linear Park paved trail runs along the lake and then continues along Johnson Creek.

Now we are looking west, standing on the Richard Greene Linear Park trail in front of the north side of the Ballpark in Arlington. We are looking at the leaking Caelum Moor piece of art that is in the water with the Dallas Cowboy Stadium looming menacingly overhead. I have to admit, as much as I dislike what was done in Arlington to build that stadium, I do think it is one impressive structure. If only the area surrounding the stadium was all as aesthetically pleasing as the area between it and the Ballpark in Arlington.

I don't know where the idea came from to compare the Caelum Moor stones to Stonehenge. The only resemblance I could see was a couple of them were pillars with a stone laid on top, like Stonehenge. Caelum Moor certainly is not arranged in anyway like Stonehenge. Caelum Moor is just sort of randomly placed. Stonehenge is a circle.

The Caelum Moors in this picture look as if they are some sort of symbolic obscene gesture. The bible thumpers hopefully will not make note of that. That is another Caelum Moor to the right, looking as if it is under the tree. Instead it is standing free of the tree, right up against Randol Mill Road.

I don't know if all of Caelum Moor lights up at night, but I did see lighting by the one by Randol Mill Road.

I would not recommend going too far out of your way to see the Caelum Moor Environmental Art. But if you are in Arlington, you might find taking a look at it to be interesting. Especially if you've not seen the new Dallas Cowboy Stadium up close.

Checking Out A Johnson Creek Flash Flood Impeder Today In Arlington


I had to be in Arlington today. That is a town between Fort Worth and Dallas. It is where Six Flags Over Texas, the Ballpark in Arlington, Hurricane Harbor, the Dallas Cowboy Stadium and the Caelum Moor work of the devil sculpture installation are located.

All of these wonderful things are concentrated close to each other, walking distance once the new bridges across I-30 are finished.

My intention had been to take pictures of the aforementioned Caelum Moor. I did so. I'll blog them after I blog this.

Johnson Creek runs between the Dallas Cowboy Stadium and the Ballpark in Arlington on its way by Six Flags. Johnson Creek has been known to go into flash flood mode every once in awhile. There is a very nice paved trail called Richard Greene Linear Park that follows Johnson Creek. I used to roller blade this paved trail. Then a few years ago Johnson Creek flooded bad, wiping out sections of the trail.

Then the Dallas Cowboys came along and wiped out more of the trail, now restored and improved, as part of the new stadium project.

So, I walked the Richard Green Linear Park Johnson Creek trail today, looking at the Caelum Moor. As I walked towards the Randol Mill Road Bridge over Johnson Creek, looking at a Caelum Moor thing on my left, I saw what I thought was more Caelum Moor on the other side of the trail underpass.

When I got closer I saw that this was not more Caelum Moor, it was part of a pedestrian bridge leading to the new stadium.

It was what was under the bridge that I thought was interesting. An elaborate system of what seemed to be some sort of baffles has been installed. This is right in the area where Johnson Creek previously had done a lot of damage.


I suspect the intention of these baffles is to slow the water down to lessen its erosive power. I imagine it must be quite a wild sight, at this spot, when Johnson Creek is running high. The water flashes around a sharp bend in the creek and then hits those baffles.

There looks to have been a lot of work done to the sides of the creek to lessen the erosion.

I wonder what's been done to Johnson Creek, down by Six Flags, which got flooded the last time this creek went rogue.

I don't believe anyone has died in Johnson Creek flash floods.

The same can not be said for the creeks that flash flood in Haltom City. Have hydraulic engineers designed and installed any improvements to the Haltom City creeks, like Fossil Creek, to slow them down when they go into flash flood mode? People have died and homes have been destroyed in Haltom City flash floods.

The next time we go into flash flood mode I'm heading to Arlington to watch what happens when a lot of water hits those baffles.

Another Rainy Day & Night In A Rainy Month In Texas

I think it's rained all night long on my location in North Texas. I've said more than once, of late, that October in Texas is being like a stereotypical Pacific Northwest winter.

This morning's Dallas Morning News letters to the editor had an amusing letter on the weather subject....

Rain, rain, go away

It's been raining here all month long. My wife and I are thinking about moving to Seattle. We kinda miss its sunshine.

Marty Daneman, Plano

Plano is a town north of Dallas, slightly west of the Southfork Ranch of J.R. Ewing fame. Seattle is a town in Washington, known for the myth that it rains all the time there. Which really is only true in Fall, Winter and Spring. Summer is usually fairly dry.

If Marty moved from Plano to Seattle, today, he'd find it about 10 degrees warmer than our current 47. Some parts of the Puget Sound zone are getting dripped on, but currently Seattle is just being cloudy. Likely something wet will fall from the sky during the day there.

I heard yesterday, on the radio, I think, that all the reservoirs in North Texas are full. They have not been full for a few years. We've supposedly been experiencing a drought. But this is my first year in Texas where the greenery did not turn brown, for the most part, by August.

Due to it being in the 40s, raining and real wet out there, I decided to fore go my usual early morning trek to the swimming pool. I'm turning into a weather wimp.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Getting Queasy In Texas Looking At Pictures Of Mountains

An acquaintance of mine, Big Ed, is well aware of my morbid fear of heights. The only thing I have a more morbid fear of is my morbid fear of morbid obesity.

I have been in a situation, or two, where my acrophobia will kick in, bringing with it a very queasy, yet somewhat exhilarating feeling.

I remember that queasy feeling kicking in on the elevator ride to the top of the Stratosphere Tower in Las Vegas. It is a very bumpy ride. And then when we neared the top, emergency sirens were blaring. The electricity had gone out. My nephews and I were stranded high above Vegas. We walked up to where the bizarre rides are on top of the tower to see people stuck in the roller coaster in the 115 degree August heat.

It took 2 hours to get us back to the ground. We got a free buffet out of the ordeal.

So, like I was saying, Big Ed is aware of my morbid fear of heights. Today he sent me a bunch of pictures. Looking at them caused that familiar queasy feeling. I don't remember the last time I got queasy in a mountain setting. Maybe at the top of Church Mountain in the Washington Cascades. You sort of pull yourself up the last 30 feet to the summit using a cable.

I have never gotten queasy at the Grand Canyon. I don't know why. I've been on some rather steep edges there. I might get queasy on the Grand Canyon Skywalk.

There is an overlook that you hike to from the east end of the tunnel that leads into Zion Canyon that got me a bit queasy.

I've really not had the queasy feeling kick in while driving some treacherous road like the Moki Dugway in Utah or Going-to-the-Sun Road in Glacier National Park in Montana. A long time ago I did drive a road that started in Redding, California and ended up at the Pacific in Crescent City that turned very very primitive, with a very narrow, flimsy, wood-planked bridge that needed crossing. I think of that road every once in awhile and wonder what was I thinking to be driving there.

I have had a time or two where I've been on my mountain bike and had the morbid fear of heights acrophobia kick on. All bike incidents happened in Moab. The Porcupine Rim Trail has a section that sort of hugs a cliff. At the Gemini Bridges Trail you come to a spot, where the bridges are, that is hundreds of feet above the valley below you. I had a queasy moment there. I also had an acrophobic moment on the Slick Rock Trail at a notorious part where you have to negotiate a tight turn on a downhill. So notorious is this section of trail a photographer lurks nearby to takes pictures of the bikers when they scream in horror. I don't know if he makes a good living doing this. I didn't buy one because I didn't scream. I was too focused on not losing control to bother screaming.

I wonder why flying doesn't bother me? I don't even remotely get a queasy feeling. Same with carnival rides. Maybe I have to be touching the ground or be manually powering a locomotion device, like a bike, for heights to make me queasy.

I have no clue as to the locations in these pictures Big Ed sent me. I'm showing you only 4 of them. There were ones of the aforementioned rides on top of the Stratosphere Tower, more mountain biking ones, more scary hiking ones and 2 guys playing tennis on top of a really tall pinnacle in Dubai. It was the close up of that one that got the queasy feeling started.

A Stormy Thursday In Texas With Ruts At Quanah Parker Park

You're looking at a stormy, possible tornado spawning, 1pm view of today's Texas sky, looking east towards Dallas, standing on the parking lot of the Eastchase Super Wal-Mart.

The series of storms has hit worse in locations other than mine. All I've experienced is a little wind and temperature fluctuations.

This morning we were headed towards 80. And then the front from the north pushed back the front from the south, in the storm equivalent of a Civil War battle, dropping the temperature to currently being 60.

It's the confrontation between HOT and COLD that brings about a tornado watch.

While all this weather battling was going on, since none of it was producing falling water, I went to nearby Quanah Parker Park to walk off some of my morning's aggravations.

Quanah Parker Park is a nice, little, well-maintained, Fort Worth park. Today I was appalled to see what looked like the sort of ruts Barnett Shale gas drillers leave in their wake at times. Quanah Parker Park borders the Trinity River, but I saw no pipelines running to a pump by the Trinity River.

I suspect the Quanah Parker Park ruts were caused by some lawn mowing City of Fort Worth workers who did not realize they were mowing on very wet ground, making a big mess in the process.

No Texas Tornadoes With HostGator

A couple hours ago I blogged about what I thought was a problem with DNS settings not pointing correctly to my new webhost, HostGator.

I figured the switch had not been made because I was still getting email using the former password.

But, unbeknownst to me the switch started happening about 20 hours ago. I figured this out when I saw email piled up when I logged into the new account.

I didn't understand why my email was still connecting, with the now wrong password. Then a light bulb turned on in my feeble brain and I thought maybe I needed to close and re-open Outlook Express. Did so, went to check email, it asked me for a password, put in the new one and now the email works.

So, I've successfully gotten my main website off the old hacking host and up and running on the new one. This makes me a semi-happy boy this morning.

In an odd coincidence, when I went to look for a HostGator image I found one from a review titled HostGator vs. Bluehost. Bluehost was the webhost I bailed on early yesterday when their tech support guy was so inept. In the review the writer was not impressed with how the Bluehost phone support person handled his questions.

Anyway, I don't think we are under a Tornado Watch any more. It has calmed down out there. HUGE rainstorm in the middle of the night. It's almost 80 out there right now, coming up on 10am. The pool was very pleasant this morning, swimming around at the crack of dawn, watching for tornadoes.