Living on La Frontera is not for the faint hearted. In this isolated mountain town there are a number of hazards that one faces on a daily basis. Now that the monsoon rains have started we cast a fearful eye on the rock wall behind our house that threatens to spill debris on our home with every torrential rainfall. Most of the transients and homeless who wander the streets are harmless eccentrics, but they occasionally break into vacant homes in search of booty and shelter. And of course the animal kingdom opens another front that the Bisbee resident must take into consideration.
But for all that, life is good in this salubrious climate. The Fourth of July was a city-wide celebration that we were able to share with our oldest son, Benjamin, who came all the way from New York City just to watch burly contestants pound holes in a rock.
One of the holiday exhibitions was rock drilling by hand into a solid block of granite positioned in Brewery Gulch. Men would step up to the block with a hammer and an assortment of drills to pound furiously for eight minutes to see how deep the resulting hole would reach. (The winner scored an impressive depth of over 11 inches.) There was also a coaster race down the canyon in front of our home, a rather boring spectacle since it was a timed race and the carts came along in widely spaced intervals. This is to prevent wrecks, of course, but it pulled the excitement right out of the competition. The fireworks were ignited in Warren, the neighborhood on the far side of the Lavender Pit, and we declined to drive down there to seem. Instead we contented ourselves by observing the flashes that outlined the intervening mountains, making the display look very much like an approaching thunderstorm.
But back to the hazards. A few nights ago Jayne had occasion to visit the bathroom and discovered a scorpion scuttling across the floor. I continue to encounter javelinas during my morning walks, and the other day spotted a rather emaciated mule deer in one of the draws cutting across the road. This means that mountain lions are likely also inhabiting my route during these early morning hikes and I remain vigilant.
But the biggest hazard is picture here. A coral snake, one of the most venomous reptiles of Arizona was lazily making his way across our yard to the stone retaining wall right near the steps I was about to descend. After admiring the beauty of the creature I nevertheless used a garden rake to send him flying into the ditch below, hoping he will find a better place to ply his trade.
