Coffee heat rising

“Managed Recreation Opportunities”: Big Brother’s Slice of the Great Outdoors

Years ago I edited a huge report that comes out once every five years for the state Parks and Recreation Department. In it, the bureaucratic authors wrote several times about “managed recreation opportunities,” a term that neatly described their attitudes about you and me and the wilderness. When you go for a hike in the Great Outdoors, you’re not alone: Big Brother is watching you.

Big Brother is installing toilets at the trailhead, pouring loose scree on the trail (erosion control, not a deliberate attempt to break your ankle), putting up signs to herd you this way and that, and roping off areas you oughtn’t to see (clearcut forests, for example). Such “improvements” to the out of doors often do little or nothing to change the reason you’re there, but are simply crowd control or worse, crowd encouragement. Fewer toilets and tourist centers would mean fewer people thumping the wilderness, for example…but without them, how could your “recreation opportunities” be properly “managed,” eh?

These “improvements,” which cost money, often entail erecting a gate across roads that access the “opportunity.” Usually the accompanying gatehouses stand empty. But in the most popular places, such as Oak Creek Canyon’s Slide Rock, recreation managers staff the gates with ticket-takers and charge people to use the parks and forests for which we’re already paying with our taxes. “No Parking” signs go up for miles along the roads leading to the parking lot, so you can’t use your public lands without paying a second tax in the form of a “parking fee.” Effectively what this does is make the site inaccessible to those who can’t or won’t pay extra to use it.

The City of Phoenix hosts a number of desert preserves, land that was donated or purchased to preserve small stretches of desert, mostly graced by low mountains, from the fierce sprawl of development. Our city parents watched what was going on with the state’s efforts to manage recreation opportunities and took the lesson.

Over the past few years they’ve quietly been installing gates across access roads to all the city’s desert parks. When I saw the one they stuck up at Piestewa Peak (formerly “Squaw Peak”; the difficult name is a politically correct bow to folks who think the Anglicized term is an insult to Indian women and an effort to honor a young Navajo woman who died in Iraq), I wondered when they were going to start charging people to use the hugely popular park.

Well, the answer is “now.”

The City recently announced it would start charging five dollars (!!!) to park your car at the mountain preserves!

Understand, large numbers of regulars use these parks every single day. I’ve mentioned my friend Garnett Beckman, who at 104 is still going strong. She was one of those regulars; at age 65, when she retired from teaching, she began climbing to the top of 1,190-foot Squaw Piestewa Peak every day. This produced an amazing effect on her health. She continued to hike there, all over the American Southwest, and all over the world…well into her 90s. When I went with her on one of her Christmas hikes to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, she was 84. So well known was she that a bench with her name on it has been installed three-quarters of the way up the mountain.

That would be one of the “improvements.” It’s gracious and lovely, as gestures go; but if you can hike 890 feet up a steep hill, you probably are tough enough to sit on a boulder or the ground to catch your breath.

Like me, Garnett was living on Social Security and not much else. There’s no way on God’s green earth that Garnett could have afforded to pay $5.00 a day for the privilege of parking her car at the base of the mountain. Neither can I.

I used to hike there or in North Mountain park several times a week myself. After I took on the 40-hour job at the Great Desert University, that went by the wayside, but one of my plans for this fall, after the weather cools and I’ll be teaching only one section at at time, was to get back into hiking.

Now that won’t be happening.

So loud was the uproar over the $5 soaking that the city backed down and said it would charge only $2 at the most popular parks, including Piestewa Peak and North Mountain. Mighty white of them.

For $50 you can get a pass to park for six months—a hundred bucks a year to use a park your tax dollars are already paying for.

These fees are supposed to pay for the “improvements” the City took upon itself to build. The gate, for example. The toilets. The running water. The tourist center.

North Mountain did not need a tourist center. While parking-lot bathrooms are nice for the kiddies, the truth is the trails are so sparsely vegetated there’s no place to hide to do your thing, and so most adults hold it until they can get back to their car and drive to to a bathroom. During the many years before some genius decided to run plumbing into the desert, the trails were never running sewers.

It is true that during the summer morons get themselves stuck up there on those hills with regularity. They don’t carry enough water (often they don’t carry any water!) or they go off the trails, and then they have to be hauled down on a litter or airlifted off the side of a mountain. But instead of gouging those of us who have better sense, why not charge the chuckleheaded and the feckless the full cost of sending a rescue team after them?

And it is true that the homeless mentally ill sometimes set up semipermanent camps in the desert parks, and so the city has to hire park rangers to chase them off. That problem could be resolved by providing decent mental health care services for everyone. Oh sorry, I know: s-o-o-o-cialism!

And it is true, I will not deny it, that a couple of times I’ve run into some scary dudes out there, including a man who chased me up a trail behind SqPiestewa Peak. None of the hired park rangers, however, were anywhere to be seen. I eluded him by hiding in a draw, pushing my bright blue day pack beneath me so my dun-colored clothes would blend in with the brush. Unless the city can put a cop at every bend in the trail, rather little can be done to stop that kind of thing. The laws have been changed so that women can carry concealed weapons into those parks, likely to be more effective protection than absent park rangers.

So what’s happening here is the City is using its “improvements,” most of them utterly unnecessary, as an excuse to start milking the cash cow that’s been standing there staring the city parents in the face all these years.

It’s amazing they haven’t gotten around to it before this. Piestewa Peak is so popular you can’t find a place to park at all when the weather is nice. Regulars who are acclimated to heat either go up there around five in the morning or wait until mid-day, when it’s too hot for most casual exercise walkers and families with young kids. Same is true on the north side of North Mountain, where you can access a milder trail than the one on the south side. The parks have been money waiting to happen for years. I guess, though, that the city council members figured they’d better wait for a really serious recession to pull this stunt; if they’d tried it with no obvious excuse, they’d have all been voted out of office forthwith.

So there you go. Another cut in our fair city’s quality of living.

w00t!! Funny Breaks into the Top 100

 OMG! Funny just made it onto the first page of WiseBread’s Top 100+ Personal Finance Blogs! Number 99 out of 100, with an Alexa ranking of 127,986.

This, thanks to Financial Samurai‘s Yakezie Challenge to bloggers who wanted to improve their traffic and various measures of popularity. The idea was, by July 4, to move your ranking from wherever it was up to the next rung. If, say, you were in the 200,000s (on a scale of 1 at the highest to a zillion at the leastest), you would vow to break into the 100,000s. If you were already there, you would try to get into the five digits. And so on. The theory behind Sam’s scheme: Power in numbers. Collaboration surely had to get us all somewhere.

Funny was a late-comer to this effort. Several friends urged me to join, but I was busy and came up with many excuses to drag my feet. Finally, a little more than a month ago, I downloaded the medallion, installed the Alexa toolbar, and announced FaM’s participation.

At the outset, FaM’s ranking was about 235,000. In just a week or two, this dropped to 199,463. It took 29 more days to arrive at today’s figure, which lifts the site into the Top 100.

So, who are these Yakezieites and what can they do? Just yesterday, Penny at The Saved Quarter published a really nice round-up of the some of the members’ best posts. This is a great place to go to find PF bloggers showing off their favorite work.

From the Yakezie site I found what appears to be the latest membership list and alphabetized it. There may be others who don’t appear on the list—I see a few names on Penny’s post that don’t seem to be here, while some here aren’t in hers. But it was the only membership list I could find. This, then, is my version:

The Amateur Financier
Barbara Friedberg Personal Finance
Beating Broke
Bible Debt
Bucksome Boomer
Budgeting in the Fun Stuff
Canadian Finance Blog
Car Negotiation Coach
Chasing Prosperity
The Centsible Life
Christian Common Cents
CJ Bowker
Clarifinancial
Consumer Boomer
Cool to Be Frugal
Couple Money
Credit Card Chaser
Dividend Monk
Downturn Living
Early Retirement Extreme
Eliminate the Muda
Ending the Rat Race
Engineering Your Finances
Evolution of Wealth
Family Balance Sheet
Financial Samurai
Fiscal Fizzle
Foreigner’s Finances
Free from Broke
Frugal Confessions
Frugal Zeitgeist
Funny about Money
Girl with the Red Balloon
Deliver Away Debt
Invest It Wisely
Joe Taxpayer
Len Penzo dot Com
Little House in the Valley
Miss Thrifty
Monevator
Money Beagle
Money Funk
Money Reasons
More Style than Cash
My Financial Objectives
My Journey to Millions
The Millionaire Nurse
My Money Minute
Narrow Bridge Adventures
Not Made of Money
151 Days Off
One Money Design
Out of Debt Again
Peak Personal Finance
Personal Finance by the Book
Personal Finance Ninja
PF Firewall
Planting Dollars
Punch Debt in the Face
Rainy Day Saver
Redeeming Riches
The Saved Quarter
Saving Money Today
Simple Life in France
Single Guy Money
Single Mom, Rich Mom
SmarterSpend.com
Stay at Home Mom CFO
Sweating the Big Stuff
20smoney
Ultimate Money Blog
Watson Inc.
Wealth Pilgrim
Well-heeled Blog
Young and Thrifty
Zach

Many of our doughty bloggers have reached the WiseBread Top 100. Some were already there at the time the Yakezie Challenge began. And others are closing in fast.

Bookmark Penny’s page and this page! Come back and check out each of these ambitious writers’ sites as you have time. You’ll find it’s very rewarding.

🙂

Hot and Muggy!

Sun-limb-flare

Well, the power and water bills showed up at once yesterday. Not too bad: the electric was only $176.63 The water came in a dollar over budget at $126.42, but at least it didn’t out-zing than the power bill, as it did last month.

When it gets to be over 100 degrees, you have to water the potted plants every day. The roses, of which I have way too many, also need to be watered several times a week. And ohhh yeah: yesterday’s water bill also reflects the day I forgot and left the water running in the pool! Dumb tax!

So far, we’ve had a pretty temperate summer…only one 115-degree day. Now, though, we’re headed into monsoon season. At 5:30 this morning it was 90 degrees out there, and overcast. The air conditioning was roaring away when I awoke…had to jack it up to 85 to settle it down. Yuck. It’s hot and wet outdoors. This is the only really uncomfortable season in Arizona, and it will last through to the end of August.

That means the really big power bill is yet to come. The $175 is for June, a relatively cool month. The 115-degree day, when the A.C. thumped along alllll daayyyyyy long almost without stopping, occurred in July. The bill for that (and for most of the really hot and humid days) won’t come until next month. The past few days have seen the shaded back-porch thermometer at 110, and the unit has been running pretty much continuously all day long, except in the morning, when I shut it off until I can’t stand the heat any longer.

By comparison, last July’s power bill was $165.78, ten bucks less than this month’s gouge. Salt River Project, our power provider, has jacked up its rates. I forget exactly how much they managed to wangle out of the corporation commission. They tried to get an increase of 8.8%, but as I recall they dropped it, in the face of shrieks from customers, to 4.9%. That would’ve raised this year’s July bill to $174. Since I’ve kept the temps around 85 during the day—it has to go down to 78 or 80 at  night, or I can’t sleep at all—that means that even at uncomfortable temps the power bill continues to move toward unaffordable.

There’s no way to compare the water bill with last year’s, because the City of Phoenix screwed up the billing by canceling my service when someone gave them the wrong address to close out their own service. In July 2008, I had a $127 water bill. I wouldn’t be surprised but what the actual bill in 2010 was somewhere near that. In January the City also jacked up its rates, by 7.2% (!). I expect the fact that this month’s bill didn’t rise to $136, even after I almost overflowed the pool one fine day, reflects the savings realized from cutting down the endlessly thirsty, moribund ash tree.

Despite my intermittent bitching about it, the pool has earned its keep this year.

Earlier this season, I discovered that ten or fifteen minutes of paddling around in the pool really made the sore arm feel better. A lot better. So lately I’ve been setting the kitchen timer to go off every two hours, to force myself to get up off my duff and drop into the pool. While the injury is not healed and probably never will fully heal, it certainly is much improved. At least I’m not waking up in acute pain every morning, and I can now move the arm into most positions where it needs to go without too sharp a jab.

This has led me to rediscover what I’d long ago forgotten: the way I managed to  keep the power bills down in the gigantic, leaky house my ex- and I occupied was by staying wet all day. I used to shut off the AC the minute the man walked out of the house, and it would stay off until around 5:00 p.m.; because he got home around 6:30, the house would be cool by the time he came in from work. This was tolerable for me because I would run out to the pool about once an hour. In those days, I wore a swim suit and my hair hung down to my shoulders, and so my clothes and hair were damp almost all the time.

And that’s how you survive two months of 110-degree weather without bankrupting yourself. 😉

Image: Filamentary plasma in the sun’s chromosphere. NASA. Public domain.

Safeway’s Got a Meat Sale

Just came back from the Safeway. They have incredibly gorgeous 7-bone chuck roasts on sale for $1.57 a pound!

Glorioski!!

Don’t know if this is nationwide or just local to the Phoenix area. Might be worth checking, though, if there’s a Safeway on your way while you’re out and about today.

I had mine ground into hamburger, which is my preferred way of serving up chuck. It makes THE best burger, and when you have the butcher grind it for you, at least you know roughly where it came from. Have them give you the bones to simmer with some onion, celery, carrots, and herbs to make an awesome beef broth.

The Burglar Jamboree: Nine Ways to Protect Yourself

Yesterday at four o’clock in the morning La Bethulia was awakened by a knock on the front door. A cop was standing out there, inside the courtyard. When she opened the door to him, he said, “I think we have something of yours.”

And thereon hangs quite a tale.

As it develops, the entire neighborhood was targeted by a band of burglars last night. One of them entered La Maya and La Bethulia’s courtyard and stole a small, slick piece of a table, apparently to use as a tool in burglarizing their neighbor’s house.

Meanwhile, the Next-Door Neighbor Husband awoke some time before 4:00 and walked out to the kitchen to get a drink of water. As he went toward the front of the house, he noticed the lights were on in his car, which he’d parked in the driveway. Looking out through a window, what should he see but a guy methodically going through the vehicle, stealing everything that wasn’t red-hot or nailed down and neatly stacking it all in a box.

Rather than confront the creep or try to scare him off, he called 911.

The 911 dispatcher told him that all the cops in our area were occupied, dealing with other burglaries in progress in the neighborhood! They sent a squad car that was, at the time, clear over on the east side. It took about a quarter of an hour for this crew to arrive.

While the cops were in transit, Perp strolled across the street and broke into another car, having carried all the loot from Neighbor Husband’s car around the corner to his accomplice, who was waiting in the getaway car. The neighbors watched as he looted that vehicle, too.

Eventually the police arrived. They trapped and caught the perp, but the guy in the getaway car escaped, taking with him everything his pal had taken out of Neighbor Husband’s car, including about $700 worth of stereo equipment. The officers did retrieve the piece of junk Perp had lifted from La Bethulia and La Maya’s yard.

Perp, it develops, has quite the rap sheet. He and his colleagues live next-door to each other, apparently in a colony of felons. They targeted our neighborhood last night, spreading out to raid the properties that interested them most.

Fortunately, they didn’t enter Neighbor Couple’s or La Bethulia & La Maya’s homes. But as you can imagine, the women were pretty creeped out, realizing the perp had been right outside the vast and vulnerable banks of French doors and windows that look out onto the enclosed courtyard. La Bethulia attempted to repair the lock to the courtyard door before she left for work, succeeding only in jamming the mechanism. So now that will have to be fixed, presumably by a locksmith.

What does this mean for us bystanders? Knowing that our homes are targeted now or one day will be targeted, what can we do to defend ourselves?

First and most obvious: don’t park your car on the street. Clean out the garage and park your cars inside.

If you live someplace where you have to park on the street, for heaven’s sake don’t leave any valuables in the car. And don’t equip your car with expensive electronic equipment!

If you have to park your car outside, drive a junker.

Perp didn’t touch the aging Toyota La Bethulia had left in the driveway. She bought her daughter’s car recently, when Daughter moved to Hawai’i, and she hasn’t had time to sell it. So the decrepit car was sitting right under Perp’s nose. With richer pickings nearby, Perp left the pile of junk unmolested.

Lock your doors and windows at night.

Alarm your doors and windows.

If you don’t have a burglar alarm system (they’re expensive and a nuisance…some of us do without them), you can get small, unobtrusive alarms that emit an ear-splitting squeal when their magnetic connection is broken. They’re very cheap and very easy to install—they run on small batteries and require no wiring. I bought a package of ten at Costco, and found they work on screen doors as well as regular entry doors and windows. So I’ve got one on the sliding screen for the Arcadia door and one on the security door in front. Security doors are easy to break into…but won’t Perp be surprised when he takes a crowbar to that thing!

Amazon sells them in packs of four as Mini Door & Window Contact Alarms rel=”nofollow”. I think they’re well worth the low cost. Fifteen bucks is sure cheaper than whatever a burglary might cost you.

Don’t own a lot of expensive junk.

This basic tenet of the frugalist works nicely to frustrate burglars. SDXB was visited by burglars the night he moved into his house around the corner from me. Foolishly, we remarked that he could stay at my house that night, since his house was chaos…and we made that remark in front of the moving men. Equally foolishly, he had an NRA sticker on his truck, advertising his interest in guns. That night “someone” came through the only door that didn’t have a deadbolt on it (interestingly, they didn’t try any of the other doors or windows) and went through all his boxes looking for weapons. He had stored his guns elsewhere during the move, but they took a collector’s bow and all the knives and machetes he’d collected during his military travels. The bow was the only thing that really mattered…otherwise, his possessions came from thrift stores. Poor guys—they made a wasted trip.

Don’t put an NRA sticker on your vehicle.

This is a big red flag that says “I have a gun in my house.” Thieves are attracted to guns as flies to molasses.

Lock weapons, cash, negotiable instruments, and jewelry in a safe.

Gun safes are expensive, but your investment in arms also represents a big expense. More to the point, though, no lawful gun owner wants to contemplate having his weapons used in a crime or shipped across the Mexican border to be used in that country’s drug wars.

Be sure your safe is bolted to the floor.

Insure your home and its contents.

If you do own anything of value, get a rider to cover it. While a rider does add a small amount to your homeowner’s policy, if you have to make a claim, you’ll be glad you planned ahead.

Don’t even think a dog is going to protect your property or you from a burglar or home invader.

Though I had one German shepherd that chased off a home invader, that is not what dogs normally do. If you’re not home, it’s pretty easy to make nice to the dog. If it’s a protective or mean dog, all the burglar has to do is shoot it.

In our part of the country, burglars are given to tossing poison over the fence where targeted homes have a large dog. A day or two after the dog is out of the way, they come visiting again.

Rely on locks, alarms, and common sense instead. They’re a lot more reliable, and it’s fairer to the dog.

Blissful fantasies, early-morning daydreams

Some people have enough courage to follow their bliss: we all remember when Mary of Simply Forties sold her house and all her belongings in Texas and took off for a gig as a caretaker for a gorgeous farm in Virginia. Another woman blogger is up to something similar: she chucked the day job, found ways to earn by working out of her home, and has taken off for the Ozarks, where she dreams of finding a house and building a home, never to have to plod off to the salt mines again.

If I were brave enough to do that, well… I’d want to live here:

Yesh. “Here” is a little house in Langue d’Oc, in the south of France.

It’s $202,877. Not totally unaffordable if I could get my price for my house. At 180 square meters it’s larger than what I’m living in, so there’d be a fair amount of space to furnish… What’s living with packing crates if you’re living in the south of France, anyway? If you’re interested in joining this daydream, you can convert square meters to square feet here and euros to dollars here.

Frugal Scholar has been looking in to this sort of shenanigan. She just reviewed Kathleen Peddicord’s How to Retire Overseas and has come to the conclusion that an American could live in Langue d’Oc for $1,495 a month…including $650/month for rent. That is significantly less than it’s costing me to live in my paid-off house in a place where summer temperatures regularly reach 115 and sometimes go as high as 120 degrees.

I wonder if the French will allow me to bring Cassie into their country?

About 95% of the properties under $400,000 are nothing I’d want to live in. In the four hundred grand range, there are some beauties. If I had only a half-million to drop, I guess I could force myself to live here. Blogger friends could come and rent the second house for their vacations. One might not suffer too much in this place, or here, or here. If you’d like to try to earn a living while you’re semi-retired in the south of France, for only $445,625 you could pick up a B&B. Not bad, compared to the cool million the inn owner in Flagstaff proposed when I inquired about buying his B&B.

All out of the question, of course. But…be patient, mes amies. Drop into the under-$300,000 range,  and you can live in a former winegrower’s cave, renovated into an interesting village house. Or picture this place with a little less clutter on the inside—it’s only slightly beyond in my price range

Assuming I could sell my house for what Zillow says it’s worth, this one is eminently affordable. And for the price, I could move here and have enough left to finance the move and buy furniture in France.

Or here…

Don’t you love the bathroom?

Je t’adore!

Charmante, except for the ladder-like staircase.

Wouldn’t it be loverly?

It’s fun to daydream, but you have to snap back to reality sooner or later. For one thing, there’s the matter of French taxes. Their system is even more byzantine than ours, from what I can tell. Apparently they may not double-tax your federal pension—i.e., Social Security, on which you’re already paying a hefty tax in the U.S. But they do charge a stiff tax on dividend income. So that would mean you’d pay two taxes on income from your retirement savings, one in the U.S. and one in France. Assuming your expenses really were limited to $1,495 a month, that might be all you could afford.

Medicare doesn’t pay for healthcare outside the country, and so you’d have to buy into France’s medical system…who knows how much that would cost? The French healthcare system is suffering in the global recession; among other things, some hospitals in the provinces have been shuttered, making access to an ER or a doctor even more problematic there than it is here.

For some folks, the language difference could pose a problem; I majored in French so could probably adapt quick enough. However, living in France is not the same as living in the United States; there are some major cultural differences that could require some serious psychological, social, and financial adjustment.

Starts to make the Ozarks look pretty good, eh?