Once,
Many years ago one sunny day far out at sea
Our ship on course for a distant Asian land
A rain squall dark, foreboding lay dead ahead
And there appeared a mighty rainbow
At least a hundred stories high
A glowing band of reds, and greens, and golds
Its shimmering legs spread seductively
A mile apart dancing on the waves
A celestial gateway to paradise?
Hooray! we thought with glee
We are going to sail right under this colored span
And see what it looks like beneath
And perhaps t’other side
But alas! The closer we came the more it shrank
Till it was barely large enough to pass on through
Then, as the ship’s bow nosed into it
It became a luminated cloud of sparkling gems
A brilliant trove spilled from some pirate’s swag
Of diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, topaz
But these precious stones were water droplets all
Then it was gone and we sailed on.
That was many years ago.
Now I am landlocked far from shore,
But the memory never dims
Of the bright sunny day far out at sea
When my shipmates and me
Sailed into a rainbow
While we were bound for Singapore.

by Charlie Whipple

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Hugging the Wrong Trees

It is axiomatic that the more beautiful a place, the more people it attracts, thereby ruining the beauty of the place. Is this the case for the Yosemite Valley in California?

Years ago while living in the San Francisco Bay area, I went camping every chance I had in the Yosemite Valley. It was a camping paradise. There were spectacular views of geological wonders including Half Dome, Upper and Lower Yosemite Falls, Bridal Veil Falls, the El Capitan granite monolith, open meadows, oak and pine trees with the Merced river flowing through the length of the valley floor.

I moved back to Texas and did not get back to Yosemite until 40 years had gone by. When I did, I was shocked! But, it was not the crowds of people. IT WAS THE TREES!

The Park Service had diligently protected the conifers from fire and disease. Pines and firs had grown to the point where spectacular views had been obscured. They had encroached on the meadows. Oak trees, which the Yosemite Indians had depended upon for acorns as a food source had been crowded out.

I thought at first that my memory was deceiving me. I asked a park ranger. He said, “No, it is true. In the past, one could ride a horse at full gallop the seven mile length of the valley and not get brushed by a tree branch”.

In fact, early photographs bear this out. A photo taken from Glacier Point in the mid 1800’s, shows the valley floor and surrounding slopes having only scattered trees. It is believed the Yosemite Indians maintained oaks for the acorn crop and burned off the conifers. It is estimated that two thirds of the meadows have been lost to conifers.

A few months after this visit, I received a letter from an environmental organization requesting a donation to help them offset the impact of the thousands of visitors to the park. I wrote back the major impact was not the visitors but the conifers overrunning the park. I suggested logging out the offending trees and the sale of the lumber would far outweigh any pittance I could contribute. Needless to say, I never heard back from them.

A couple of years have gone by and to my surprise and pleasure the National Park Service seems to agree with me! The Los Angeles Times and several web sites have come forth with the news that plans are in the works, starting in 2012, to start cutting down conifers in selected areas of the valley to once again open up the vistas that have been lost..

I recognize many will be against the cutting down of any trees. The question is, what is important. Is it a matter of maintaining a “pristine wilderness”. Is it a matter of what is the “climax vegetation” of the valley that must be achieved? Is it a matter of maintaining the appearance of the Valley as it appeared when President Lincoln declared it a national park?

“Climax vegetation” is the collection of plant types that establish themselves at any given site over a long period of time if left undisturbed. If a collection of conifer types should be considered the “climax vegetation” of the Yosemite Valley it would have been periodically destroyed by naturally occurring forest fires. If not naturally, then definitely by the Yosemite Indians. I don’t know if anyone really knows what the climax vegetation may have been before the Indians.

In any event, the dominant beauty of the valley is the geological features produced during the ice age by the glacier that carved out the valley creating the spectacular waterfalls and stone monoliths. .In this case, it is not the hoards of people that are ruining the beauty of Yosemite Vally, it is the hoards of trees that have cut off the beautiful views from the hoards of people. .

P.S. I admit the hoards of people are a problem, too, insofar as getting around in the valley because of the traffic. It is probably a good idea to go in the spring when it is warm enough for snow water to be cascading over the falls and before California schools have let out for the summer. Winter is not bad either if you don’t mind freezing and don’t care to drive to the Mariposa Grove of the giant sequoias as the road will be snowed in.

P.P.S. Merry Christmas to all the Whipples and friends.

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Today’s San Antonio Sunday Express News has an outstanding “Taste” section on paletas. My favorite is mango from El Paraiso. Here are song lyrics I wrote on some of the icy treats a number of months ago.

WAIT’IN FOR THE ICE CREAM MAN

Standin’ on the corner
Of Colima and Zarzamora
Haven’t got a plan
Workin’ when I can–

I’m just waitin’ for the ice cream man

He’s got a little truck
In this heat if he don’t show up
I’ll get a sandia cup
At that raspa stand

But I’m waitin’ for the ice cream man

It’s a hundred degrees
I need an ice cold raspa freeze
Or an agua fresca
At Lupe‘s on south Presa

I’m still waitin’ for the ice cream man

I am ready to go
Maybe a cold tamarindo
Or a horchata
Or a limonada

I’m tired of waitin’ for that ice cream man

I guess I’ll go down town
Oh, oh I hear that sound
He just came round the corner
Of Colima and Zarzamora

I was waitin’ for the ice cream man
I hope he’s got a mango paleta.

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Kenedy made the news today in USA Today. The USDA ranks Kenedy fourth in the USA as a “food desert” (note, that is desert not dessert). Isn’t Barth’s still there? Just kidding. It has something to do with a formula based on a percentage of folks below the poverty level living more than one mile from a grocery store.

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A Patriotic Slushy
(It Is Red, White, and Blue)

Instead of putting strawberries and/or blueberries into your morning smoothie, make a “slushy” with them later in the day. It is very easy. Here is how:

Cut up about three of those big fresh strawberries into small bowl. Dump about 1/3rd cup frozen blueberries on top of strawberries. Dust with l packet of stevia (a natural sweetener with no calories). Pour 1/3rd cup half and half over berries.

This combination partially thaws the blueberries and partially freezes the half and half which partially coats the berries. Above portions are fungible. About 200 calories. Besides being very refreshing in hot weather, the health benefits inherent in both the red and the deep blue coloring of the berries are said to be incredible.

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For years the drive from our home in the country to the city was on a lonely, shoulderless, two lane road bounded on both sides by ranches that had been in the same families since Civil War days. The road descended a steep hill covered with live oaks and cedar. As it neared the bottom, the cedar gave way to elms and oaks which grew to enormous size. At the bottom was a dry creek. It had once been a clear running stream but now only flooded during heavy rains making it impossible to get to or from town. On cold winter nights one could hear coyotes harrying rabbits through the creek bottom. And on moonless nights the road was as dark as a cave. In the Spring both sides of the road were cloaked with yellow Engleman daisies. As one neared town there was a field filled with sunflowers that bloomed all summer.

At the end of this field the road was bisected by an equally narrow crossroad. Here, I often saw a scissor-tailed flycatcher* perched on a barbed wire fence. It seemed to watch with interest as I drove by. Occasionally, it would fly a short distance into the air to catch an insect. Each summer for years I would watch for it. And each summer it returned to its perch on the fence.

After several years, things began to change as the city grew. Stop signs were put up on the corners of the intersection because of increasing traffic. A supermarket and gas station were built on one corner. A gas station and convenience store were built on

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You might thank cousin Amiel Whipple. Before the Civil War, Amiel was in charge of an expedition that charted a transcontinental train route from Ft. Smith, Arkansas to Los Angeles, California. Years later Route 66 closely followed this path.

As a U.S.Army topographical engineer, Amiel really got around. He was engaged in surveying the U.S. Border with Canada. He was in charge of establishing the border with Mexico in the desert southwest after the Mexican War. He was involved in surveying in New Orleans.

The Whipple Mountains and Whipple Wilderness Area south of Needles, California are named in his honor. Sadly, he was killed by a sniper’s bullet in the Civil War.

He has a living memorial, the Yucca Whipplei, which was named after him by botanist John Torrie. It is a trunkless yucca that sends up a tall stem topped by a large cluster of creamy white flowers that blooms on the desert hills of California, Arizona and Mexico every spring. There is a Fort Whipple Museum in Prescott, Arizona if anyone should be going that way. For further information Google Amiel Weeks Whipple.

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If you like chocolate sodas you will like egg creams. It was invented in Brooklyn over 100 years ago, continues to be traditional in New York, but never made it down here as the ingredients defied successful bottling. It is simple to make and you don’t need a siphon seltzer bottle or a drugstore soda fountain carbonated water dispenser. Perversely, the ingredients do not include eggs or cream. You just need chocolate syrup, plain milk and a bottle of seltzer. The preferred chocolate is Fox’s U-Bet Chocolate Syrup which is available at some H.E.B’s. Otherwise, Hershey’s should be okay. While you are at the store get a bottle of seltzer water which comes in a large bottle that costs about a dollar.

Back home, put the seltzer bottle in the refrigerator so that it will get ice cold. Then take a 10 oz. glass and pour about an inch of chocolate syrup in the bottom. Add about an inch of milk on top of the

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Year before last Susan baked a Black Forest Cake with whipped cream frosting to enter at the Kendall County Fair. Just before entering it, the top two layers skidded off the counter and hit the floor. The remaining two layers couldn’t be entered, but we and the judges enjoyed eating what was left.

Last year, Susan tried again with the same cake recipe, but with a non-skid dark chocolate filling. This time she won the

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William Whipple and family were a mobile lot, i.e.from Quakertown to the West (Illinois? and Colorado) back to Quakertown, back to the West, finally settling in Oklahoma. Then it was like Orva and his three brothers scattered to the four winds. I remember Uncle Ernest up in Jefferson, Texas. There was a lot about the frustrating life and unfortunate death of the oldest brother, Orin, in the book by his son, Charles. But there seems to be little known about Oscar other than I think the book by Charles noted that Oscar’s wife died in Colorado and later he died in Idaho. Does anyone know anything more than this about Oscar?

In addition, does anyone know who was buried at Pike’s Peak?

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Did you hear about Duane falling in Europe?
He tripped in France at the Louvre.
He slipped in England at Trafalgar Square.
But, Duane in Spain fell mainly on the plane!

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Uncle Luther was in a way a pacesetter. Years before pickup trucks became the most popular mode of transportation in Texas, a 1936 Dodge pickup was uncle Luther’s and aunt Onnie’s only car. It had high wooden sideboards, making it very handy to carry saddle horses, steers, sheep or pigs. Out back of their house was a pen with a loading chute with a ramp that he could back the pickup up to.. I “helped” him one time chasing a load of pigs into that chute and up onto that truck bed. It was wild!. Those pigs were squealing and running in all directions.

After a job like that was finished, uncle Luther would pull a bag of Bull Durham and a cache of cigarette papers out of his shirt pocket, select a paper, fold it into a lengthwise valley with his left hand fingers and tap some tobacco into it. The Bull Durham pouch had a drawstring with a tag on the end of it so that he could hold the tag in his teeth, pull the pouch shut and return it to his pocket, using only his

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