How To Open A Can With A Spoon

This looks like fun. It does look a lot less messy that rubbing the top rim of the can against a rock or piece of concrete.

The Last Hermit: Christopher Thomas Knight of Maine

Christopher Thomas Knight lived 27 years in the Maine woods, supporting himself entirely by stealing from unoccupied cabins. In 27 years he spoke once to a passing hiker, saying only "Hi."

"Culturally my family is old Yankee," Chris said. "We're not emotionally bleeding all over each other. We're not touchy-feely. Stoicism is expected." I guess so.

More here.

Camping Gear: Shoe Organizer/Kitchen Organizer

Some of the 47 ideas on this site strike me as a bit lame or at best cute gimmicks, but using a plastic shoe organizer for the camp kitchen seems like a good one.

When we camp here on Oahu we take a 10 X 20 foot tent for the kitchen & shady, dry sitting area. The cooking gear goes into plastic bins for transport, and it can take some rummaging to find stuff. This might alleviate the problem.

N.B.: There are four pages of stuff. Clik on the title for more details.

On The Road

We are currently exploring the wilds of New Mexico, looting the pawn shops of Gallup, and heading slowly back to Idaho before stashing our gear in a safe place and winging home in a couple weeks.

Country Roads

I'm not sure why anybody bothered to make this video: Doesn't everyone's Mom drive like this on the way to school?Although it also reminds me of the drive from the archaeologists' camp at Fort Ross State Historic Park in CA to the laundromat.

Malaekahana Beach Park Camp Out, Again

About three weeks ago Valerie and I jumped into old Nellie Belle and motored off to the North Shore for several days of camping at Malaekahana Beach Park with our friend Dan and quite a few of the locals of both the fuzzy and the feathered persuasion. We took plenty of food for each so we had plenty of freeloaders to entertain us.

We did have to check out the beach, of course, and on day two discovered that a big log had floated in during the night. As usual, clik on the pic if you want a bigger version.

 

It had been in the water for awhile, long enough for plenty of hitchhikers to latch on:

 

In a few places they were pretty sparse. Note the little brown crab just above center, trying to hide out:

 

Most places, though, they were thick as small government advocates when the politicians are handing out subsidies:

 

It was breezy, and a few sailors took advantage of it:

 

While Valerie and I were hanging around the beach one day a fellow with a grey plastic suitcase in hand came walking up the beach, peeled down to his POLICE wetsuit, put some gear in the case and tethered it to himself, then waded into the water.

 

He came back a few minutes later with an illegally set and unregistered lay net. He looked like anybody walking down the sidewalk in the financial district, briefcase in hand.

The gear he had tossed in his briefcase consisted mainly of his wallet, badge, gun and gun belt: Can't very well leave those lying on the beach, so the gasketted case goes with him whenever he has to go in the water. What a pain.

 

There were a couple dead fish in the net. One, which proved the net had been untended (illegal) had been dead for a while. Apparently legal nets have to be checked daily. The other was fresh:

 

Back at the ranch, Dan gave a little help to his friends. Nothing like welfare queens getting salmon dished up with a silver spoon. Might as well be Democats. Or Republicats, for that matter

 

 

 

Tough cat: Must be a Tareyton smoker:

 

One morning we drove over to Kahuku Golf Course and went for a beach walk, then stopped at the InterGalactically Famous Fumi's Shrimp Wagon for you guessed it, some shrimp. While there we saw our old friend Fumi, the Black Crowned Night Heron:

 

The water in the shrimp pond had been drawn way down, exposing mud flats, or nearly so, and for the first time there we saw a Hawaiian Stilt at Fumi's. They are the endemic sub-species of the Black-necked Stilt, which is common enough elsewhere, but there are only about 1400 of the Hawaiian race around.

 

Here's the same guy:

 

Here's one more. Yeah, yeah, I know: three is too many. Well, it's my blog, and I call the shots. If you want fewer pics of Hawaiian Stilts, go to HuffPo.

 

We did more than lie around the beach and feed the welfare queens, but I didn't take any pictures, so that's all, folks.

Back to the North Shore

We drove out to Malaekahana State Recreation Area again today, this time with Greg, to scope out our final choice of a camping spot for his birthday party next month, stopping along the way to check out a few of our regular spots.

As usual, clik on the pic for a bigger version.

Malaekahana Weathervane:

 

Malaekahana Couple:

 

Pipeliners waiting for the right one:

 

It was windy, but it looked like they were having fun:

 

 

Of course, we had to stop to make sure that Fumi, our favorite Black-Crowned Night Heron, was still in good form. He was, so we all relaxed and had shrimp plates for lunch. It turned out that one can order the Garlic Butter Shrimp plate cooked with oil instead of butter, making it at least a bit less deadly, and less guilt inducing. Fumi, tho, being a purist, had shrimp sashimi.