67.06 Tenerife, Spain: The first in a number of varying steep hikes to-and-from the coast: El Pris-Fly-Fishing without bug spray. 67.07 El Sauzal Coast via Camino Rojas.

  At times, I walk around in a daze as I take in the sights, observe the behavior of my fellow humans and mostly, try to understand the workings of the world. The dilemmas I face mean that most of the time I'm confused while on other occasions, simply ignorant. 

  Today was another such opportunity although it did result in a solution to something I had never understood. We thought we'd share this fish tail (tale) with you and then conclude with a story from my childhood. Effectively, the time span is sixty-two years which does say something of my long-term memory. On the shorter side, it could be a bit of an embarrassment when I attempt to recall names, as um...what's her name...my wife would confirm. 

  Lately, we find the camera a very useful instrument to help explain things, especially when one can't find words one seeks to expand on a concept. It's when we came across this scene, see below, that a concept both of us never understood, suddenly made perfect sense. We are hoping that so much of the confusion we have suffered, particularly one of us, could possibly be resolved with use of cameras and perhaps other gadgets applied intelligently.

My first thought and exclamation to Jen was: "There's a boat out of water". She replied, "Don't you mean a fish out of water?" 

"Aha! Finally, we understand: That's 'Fly-fishing'." The picture cleared up the concept of fly-fishing for us. It kind of makes the world seem less 'peculiar', if you know what we mean. 

  We never understood the concept of fly-fishing. Having seen this boat and others in the air today, we put it all together and now believe something we never could perceive; it actually makes much sense. As an aside, until we saw these flying boats, we thought that fly-fisherman were very strange indeed. Did they actually try to catch flies with a rod or pole, as a hobby? We imagine that would take enormous skill but now know differently. It made no sense before, of course, but then, not a lot does these days especially to those a few steps behind. 

  We then reviewed the situation differently and thought that should this concept of flying-fishing prove to be the popular activity we understand, being quite ignorant in such matters, perhaps we can add to the safely of the hobby. Fishermen often wear life-vests to avoid drowning. However, if one is going to be a fly-fisherman, surely it would be equally important wear a parachute, too. Just asking. 

Looks like the guys did evacuate the boat without parachutes.
  My first and only experience of fishing took place in about 1961. I was 9-years old. (As an aside, I sometimes wonder whether I was ever younger than fifty). I joined David, Saul and Louis, my neighbors who were at least 2-years older than me, on a minor(s) fishing expedition a couple of miles from our homes. We played sport together regularly, but fishing was something new. Louis had purchased a rod and the paraphernalia necessary for the pastime. 

  We set off on our bicycles, a time when kids were independent, provided in my case, I was back before my Dad arrived home from the business day. It was embarrassing that I had to take a bath prior to 6pm each night. What was even more embarrassing, should I be playing soccer or cricket in the garden with the neighbors, Katy would arrive and call out in a loud, clear but devasting voice, 

"Butch! It's time for your bath". 

  What was 'super' embarrassing, the sisters of David and Saul (Estelle and Marcelle) were in my school class and occasionally, they would be watching us on the 'field' (and hear Katy). I still wake up some nights in a sweat dreaming of such moments. Nevertheless, I miss Katy who passed away last year, some two years after Mom. (As I have mentioned before, she was a second mother to me.) 

  We arrived at the pond and I was ready to try to understand what fishing was all about, (ever the deep thinker). Louis assembled the equipment, attached sinkers and floaters, nylon line, hooks, the whole shebang. I got up close trying to understand the process and concept. I'm inclined to be squeemish about raw food so I reserved my rights not to partake of eating a fish or parts of it. Anyway, Mom purchased 'proper' fish from the market, not this stuff that Louis was going to produce. 

  He took his position at the pond edge, the rod moved behind and over his shoulder and he cast off. The nylon, the hooks, floaters and sinkers flew through the air across the water and landed on the surface, according to plan. Unfortunately, apparently Louis forgot to fasten one of the knots properly and the sinkers took the line below the surface and everything else not secured to the rod (pole). Louis was left holding the rod but with no line attached. We looked at each other; I think we kept quiet, packed up and rode home. All was not lost though (besides the fish-tackle.) I felt good as there would be no chance of missing my bath time call.

To get away from fish tales, we conclude with a handful of photographs from one of the 'little coastal strolls'. 

The village of El Caleton, the destination of a later coastal 'stroll'.
A colorful trail, indeed.
Jen on the way back and climbing...the land and flora are enticing.
An advantage of living here is not having to fuss with keys.
At the end of the day, it's a mere hop and skip and collapse on the sofa.
For those wanting a smoother path, there's a road to walk or drive.
We find a pool on the coast and seek an ideal fishing spot now that we are 'experts'.
While walking past, Jen noticed a crumbling of the wall. She agreed to hold it together while I hiked up to the top to find a repair team. Hang in there, Jen. What a pillar of strength she is.
Heading up or down, attractive either way.
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey 

As an aside, we'd like to welcome a surge of viewers who hail from Singapore, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Brazil and Mexico. Thank you for your interest. Please note there is a facility on the blog to translate the text.

Sunrise, Sunset in various parts of the world: A few photographs that not only pleased the eye but went much deeper--the scenes resonated within our souls.

Keurboomsstrand, South Africa.
Jen beats the sun at 'Angel of Fire' State Park in Nevada.
Senj, Croatia.
Las Vegas Strip highlighted, viewed from Red Mountain, Boulder City, Nevada, at dawn.

This view of the Drakensberg Range reached from Sani Pass, Lesotho, via the 'famous chain-ladders' (near Witsieshoek) but only after the sun appears.
Setting sun spotlights Jenni at Kelso Dunes, California, returning from 'fun and games' on the ridge.
The Annapurna Range, part of the Himalayas, Nepal, lit at sunrise. Below the clouds is Begnas Lake and two witnesses with 'open-mouths'.
Sunrise on the water at Water Canyon, Utah.
On the Otter Coastal Trail in South Africa, we witness the sun's cascading rays flowing over and through the clouds.
We reached Kenmo Lake in Himeville, Kwa Zulu-Natal, before sunrise and waited patiently for this autumn scene.
Near Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, we watch the setting sun, in awe.
At Sani Pass, a turbulent sunset confronts us.
Sunrise in Las Vegas from the Frenchman Mountain.
Sunset on Oahu, Hawaii.
Piute Pass in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, we enter a trail at 4:15 am. More than an hour later, the sun reveals our destination.
Hawaii presents us with a further treat.
Pradollano, Spain.
San Diego Iron Mountain sequence...next three.

Lake Mead just before nightfall.
The Drakensberg well-lit following sunrise...we were too slow to reach it in time.
Rattlesnake Trail, Cedar Breaks Park (not Bryce), Utah as sun gives last of its morning glory.
Machapuchare, part of the Annapurna Range, Nepal, at sunset.
Lake Mead, Boulder City, Nevada, late afternoon returning from Lava Butte peak.
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

67.05 Punta de Hidalgo: Chinamada: Not just a taste of heaven but a large hug, too, and the usual 'slug' to the top.

  From the outset of this hike, a person immerses oneself in rugged beauty. There's never a moment when one is not gazing, entranced or surrounded by fascinating plant life, distinctive mountains and coloring and less frequently, views of the ocean and even the town. Of course, upon acquiring altitude, the views below and into the canyon and across it, add an additional dimension of perspective. More height adds further exposure to previously hidden mountains and features as well as to distant sights including rural dwellings and other structures nestled into the mountain slopes. While surrounded by these multi-faceted attractions, one continues the climbing struggle, often balanced on precarious edges. The trail is extremely well-constructed including much variation, steep and frequently, alters its direction. These components add further to the previous comment about it being an unusually varied experience. 

  Upon reaching the peak, additional views comprise farmland, a few structures that provide accommodation and even a restaurant. From the opposite side of our commencement point, in typical European style, those wishing to attain a perspective of the surround from height, are able to drive a vehicle to a section of the mountain. From our experience of the island roads, we would think the drive would be an adventure itself. 

Jen commences the hike up by walking down. Go Figure! The target is the to the left of the third peak. See below for further elucidation.
From the destination point, we look down to the peak mentioned in above photograph. (This was a couple of hours later...heh!...obviously).
A solid climb the whole way and always on the edge, one of Jen's favorite...or should that be least favorite positions.
On a tough day such as this, for some, it can be a little prickly.
Early morning wake-up call. I noticed this lovely woman as I passed her home.

I turned around and felt flattered that she was following me.
We reach an edge and view part of the Atlantic, particularly the two rocks through the gap ('V').
This icon, Punta de Hidalgo Lighthouse, has always been a favorite. The distinctive tower seems to resonate with one of us. It's also visible from a few different hikes, making it a little treasure. (Heck, no accounting for taste or sense.)
That's her ever so slightly rebellious poise. Because I'm a quick learner, after fifteen years of experience, I discovered I should not suggest she should speed up or only rest once she has reached the top of a little hill. It has been a great learning experience for one of us in trying to understand my woman.
Through the gap, a relaxing view while one of us recuperates...um...enjoys the ambience.
Jen drops down before climbing once again.
Through another gap, we spot our commencement point.
Jen tries one of her smarter tricks by taking the gap and climbing through the arch.
Following her 'Arc(h) de Triomphe' adventure, she seems a little disjointed, maybe confused.
For reasons I have never understood, at times when she's a little uptight with me, she issues challenges. For example, she might dare me to crawl through that little bush ahead.
...or run down to the bottom of the canyon as a challenge. The funny thing is, I enjoy it. Sometimes I feel like a puppy...but she won't let me have one.
I need another view of the icon.
The reddish hue is fascinating and easy on the eye...lousy on the feet and legs.
We're near the top looking down on the mountain of the opening picture.
This is where we ate brunch. The mountains ahead are another destination when we commence this hike from the opposite side....long story. At this peak, there is a restaurant (closed often) and a few places to stay. It's ideal for those wanting 'to get sleep high'.
A little fascination with the trees. On lonely days, I talk to them all.
No shortage of companions with which to converse.
Turn-around position.
Remarkable.
Fantastic trail for the entire route with incredible views and a unique atmosphere. This is the typical width although in many places, it's a little 'tighter', much narrower.
Jen returning finally. No rests on the way down other than a stop for an unfortunate fall.
  In the previous blog, we wrote about the concept of kindness, specifically, being on the receiving end from complete strangers. We should have added, in what we consider, a beautiful few minutes as we observed the kindness of stranger toward an apparently 'hostile' recipient. 

  We had hiked to the peak of Mauna Kea on the separate island of Hawaii also termed: the Big Island. That in itself, both the hike and views, are splendid. Funnily enough, as with the previous blog, both locations are large islands, one in the Atlantic, Hawaii in the Pacific. A sergeant in the US Marines halted his vehicle on the way down when he saw a car that was obviously stuck on the side of the road. We know the driver had been positioned in this undesirable situation for quite a while—few had stopped to assist. The marine did not hesitate. He approached the woman and set about helping her. 

  Long story short. On her back window and rear bumper were bold stickers with the words: 

   

                  "Help us keep US Armed Forces out of Hawaii." 

  Of course, Hawaii also happens to be an integral part of the USA. Thought we might mention that in passing. "Impressive deed, indeed, Sergeant!"  

 

  A lesson we learned might be that acts of kindness should not be dependent upon the nature of the recipient. (We would exclude at least wicked people...). 

Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey 

A day of Cacti, Water and Mountains