Fairfield 17: Completing the Loop

In March 2019 I visited Fairfield, Iowa and the Maharishi University of Management for two weeks, starting with three days of Ayurvedic treatments at the Raj. After that I moved to the Men's Peace Palace for the remainder of my visit.

I'll organize this in sections. First, wanderings around the MUM campus.

One morning, walking to the Golden Dome, Venus was aligned with a pair of street lights. Click on the image to see Venus above and to the left of the lamps.

As part of celebrating spring, a student organization sponsored a "color fight," secularizing that part of the Holi festival.

I missed the festivities, but here's the stage afterward.

I was driving a new Chrysler Pacifica plug-in hybrid, so I had the impulse to document the charging opportunities here. (There are also two in town, but those are less convenient for someone staying on campus.)

120 volt outlets -- bring your own charger

240 volts near the Sustainable Living Center, next to the Peace Palace!

240 volts on the other side, a student OpenEVSE project.

The expansion of housing in North Campus Village is an irresistible force,

stoppable only by high-tension power lines further north.

The big news was the cutover of the new "MEG'Array" solar power plant, which generates 1.1 megawatts of power and thus one-third of the university's electrical needs. It's a high-tech installation combining active tracking of the sun with vanadium flow batteries to store power. The shot was taken from the Jefferson County Loop Trail.

This new observation deck is where I stood to grab the picture. The solar farm is just visible through the greenery towards the left -- click on the image to enlarge and scan the horizon.

My last campus photo is another "celestial" photo, taken from the front of the Argiro Student Center.

Full moon, clouds, and Vedic Observatory

Of course I also had to explore the town square and its immediate surroundings,

always the site of comings, goings, and stayings of business.

One of my favorite restaurants in Fairfield is the Asian Pho Bistro, just off the square. I was glad to see it still there.

The Tokyo Pen Shop has been replaced by the Copper Moon Cafe. Haven't tried it yet.

An establishment of liquid refreshment, which I also haven't visited. I'm falling behind!

A new shop since March 2018.

A renovation finished.

Someone needed more coffee.

A notice that RAGBRAI (the Register's Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa) will be coming through in August.

Coming attractions at the Sondheim:

One goal for this visit was to walk the one bit of the Jefferson County Loop Trail that I'd not trod. Last year I had come close but ran out of steam and time. Now I drove to Whitham Woods Park,

where I'd repeat a stretch of trail before tackling the missing link. I soon came across an abandoned pink plastic slipover for walking on ice.

I covered the last stretch and back without any difficulty. The topic of the loop trail deserves and will receive its own blog post, and this one is long enough.

I returned home well rested, having spent two weeks where I wasn't surrounded by the press of daily chores and demands.

Mystery Poop

Recently, as Joan and I began working on the fall chores in the back yard, we noticed poop appearing overnight. Relatively small poop, fibrous and gray with a white cap. This photo was taken after the example had been in the sun for several hours, and had started to bleach. It's only an inch or and inch and a half long.

The small size ruled out the usual suspects, such as fox, coyote, raccoons, or roaming cats. The lack of bones ruled out regurgitated pellets from the owls in the woods behind our house. The widespread scattering of these presents implied several individuals. So what creature had produced these? It wasn't immediately obvious to us. 

We also noticed downy feathers appearing, which at first made us think of young owls.

Then one day Joan looked up at the end of the day and saw the culprits. They were preening their feathers and preparing to roost for the night, 30 or 40 feet above the ground.

Turkeys! And indeed, if you ask Mr. Google for images of turkey scat, you'll see the match.

Poop solved. For the last two nights the turkeys haven't show up -- perhaps we're just one stop on their rotation.

A-C-B: Buenos Aires and Home

Today, November 3rd, Joan and I spent the day exploring Buenos Aires on foot before our flight home at 9pm. We started by walking to the Teatro Colón, a world-class opera house, to buy tickets for a tour. The web site mentioned tours every 15 minutes, available in both Spanish and English. We discovered on arriving that English-language tours were only twice a day, so we purchased our tickets for the afternoon tour and headed towards our next destination, the frigate Presidente Sarmiento, considered to be the last intact training ship from the 1890s. From the theater it was about a 2¾ km (1.7 mile) walk, dodging road construction near the renovated and gentrified old dock district where the ship is moored.

Getting closer.

After paying a modest fee Joan and I leisurely explored the Sarmiento.

She must have looked grand under sail.

The Sarmiento carried weapons including torpedoes. The armaments, used primarily for training or naval salutes, may never have been fired in anger.

A more complete history and inventory of the ship was posted, if tricky to photograph under glass.

Click on the image to enlarge, yes?

On leaving the Sarmiento Joan and I decided it was time for a snack. We skipped the sit-down restaurants lining the waterway in favor of a shop where we purchased small treats and a bottle of water. Then Joan and I headed for the Museo Casa Rosada, also known as the Museo del Bicentenario, an underground museum on the site of the original fort of Buenos Aires and later the customs house. It's recent, having opened in 2011. We knew it was associated with the Casa Rosada, the executive mansion and offices of the Argentine president,

but were unsure of its exact location. We learned at the gate that the museum was a separate structure around back. The entrance and security check is above ground, but visitors take an escalator down to the exposed foundations of the old customs house. This was an intriguing place to visit, with varied and extensive exhibits, but no photography was allowed.

On our way back to the Teatro Colón we next visited the Catedral Metropolitana, or the Metropolitan Cathedral, the main Catholic church in Argentina. It is impressive, but I have only this one photo for you.

In the square outside a political rally was growing louder. Joan and I walked on, to reach the Teatro Colón in time for the afternoon English-language tour. This popular and thriving urban tree outside the opera house caught my eye.

Just inside the doors, the grand entryway.

The upper-level hallway was peppered with statues and busts of operatic themes and composers.

Lots of lovely skylights.

A small group prepared to rehearse in a side gallery. We were allowed to briefly listen if we kept quiet.

Here's a wide view from near the main stage of the opera house.

This panoramic shot distorts the circular nature of the interior.

A vertical look, from the same spot. How would you like to have all those people watching you?

Then it was time to tromp back to the hotel, retrieve our luggage, and wait for our transfer to the Buenos Aires international airport. Everything went smoothly, including the exit interview at check-in (what did you see during your visit? etc.) that often happens at overseas airports, for U.S. bound flights at least. We landed in Atlanta in the morning twilight, and waited for our flight to Columbus.

Atlanta sunrise.

Joan and I thoroughly enjoyed our birding, geological, and cultural exploration of the high country in Argentina, Chile, and Bolivia despite our initial nervousness at traveling independently, that is, with just a guide and not being in a group. Hats off to Trogon Tours for arranging the journey and to Carlos, our exemplary guide. If you've just come across this post, the series about the trip starts here. My apologies for taking almost a year to complete it.

A-C-B: Dash to Salta and Our Last Day with Carlos

On November 1st Carlos, Joan, and I arose early, facing a 608 km (according to Google Maps), or 377 mile, drive across the Chilean border and through the mountains and salt flats to Salta, Argentina. The post-Halloween streets of San Pedro were empty.

Looking south from the hotel door.

Looking north from the hotel door.

The journey was a retracing of our steps four days before and then some. Crossing back into Argentina wasn't as time-consuming as entering Chile, because there were no car or luggage inspections for contraband agricultural products. We stopped for lunch at the same excellent but visually unimpressive restaurant as on the outbound trip. Several mountain passes rolled underneath Carlos' tires.

 Our last day at high altitudes.

On the salt flats we could make time, but on the twisty mountain roads, often behind car carriers, well ...

From Purmamarca we headed south towards Salta as the sun drifted lower and lower. Our final destination was the Hotel Selva Montana, in the upscale suburb San Lorenzo.

This was our room. Joan and I enjoyed frequent visits by various species of hummingbirds that were attracted to the flowering bushes outside our window.

We had dinner a few blocks away, at a restaurant/bar connected with the Quebrada de San Lorenzo, a municipal reserve/park. There Carlos offered us an option that was "good news/bad news." The bad news was that we would, again, rise early tomorrow. The good news was that we had the opportunity to join a small birding group that would be taking a tour of a private reserve, guided by the owner. Our existing itinerary was for a private tour of that reserve with a ranger who knew the trails but not so much about the birds. Joan and I voted eagerly for the new option.

The view the next morning.

After breakfast those hotel guests going on the tour of the Reserva del Huaico followed the owner, Ricardo Clark, as he drove the short distance to the entrance.

The reserve is in a climate/topography referred to as the Yungas, basically a wet, forested, mid-altitude (3,900 to 8,200 ft) ecosystem.

Initially our walk was on a wide track; later it would be on footpaths.

Of course we had more success with our binoculars than I did with my camera. The first photo I captured was this golden-billed saltator.

Most of these images are looking up into the trees.

Next was a rusty-browed warbling finch.

With this lighting, a bird has merged with the tree.

A great kiskadee, looking the other way ...

and a black-backed grosbeak.

Our path wound partway up a hill. From there, we could see the protected forest of the reserve, suburban land, and farmed/grazed hillside beyond.

Click on the image to enlarge.

At the end Ricardo talked with us about the programs he offers at Reserva del Huaico, and Joan and I made a small donation.

For lunch Carlos, Joan, and I returned to the Quebrada de San Lorenzo and the restaurant where we'd dined the night before. We walked up through the reserve through tracks initially broad and threaded among picnic spots.

After the way transformed into a narrow path we saw a rufous-throated dipper in one stream, although he refused to turn enough to flash his rufous bib.

Carlos seemed eager to depart with time to spare for the Salta airport, where Joan and I would fly to the Buenos Aires domestic airport (AEP). On arrival we found out why; there had been a "job action" at AEP that morning, and flight schedules were out of whack. When we checked in the Aerolineas Argentinas agent found us seats on the earlier flight to AEP, which was delayed to about the time of the flight we were supposed to take, which would arrive who knows when. Even though Joan and I wouldn't be in the same row, we were happy. For the inconvenience she waived the overweight baggage fee for one of our two bags. She was being very considerate, something we are unaccustomed to with Aerlolineas Argentinas, but we still needed to stand in line to pay the baggage fee for the other duffel.

Carlos escorted us as far as the security station for our block of gates, which wasn't operating yet. We had a chance to chat about the trip and thank Carlos for being our guide. He may have been a last-minute replacement, but we couldn't have asked for better, and he learned almost as much about Chile and Bolivia as we did.

Then the gates opened, and Joan and I filed in. We waited as various announcements were made in Spanish, listening for the words "Buenos Aires" and watching the runway for an aircraft. One came! The flight was straightforward, and Joan had an enthusiastic running conversation with a young woman named Macarena. In Buenos Aires the airport was chaotic, still recovering, but we managed to pick up our bags and find our transfer to the Hotel Lafayette, where we had stayed on our first night of this trip. There we had a straightforward and welcome dinner, then returned to our room and plunged into slumber.

Our flight back to the U.S. wouldn't depart until about 9pm the next day, so we would have time for a brief exploration of the city. That will be the subject of the final blog post, the bookend, of our journey.