Random day

Couple of quail so fat and docile I could almost touch them! Just chilling, watching me polish the truck this evening. Getting ready for a trip this weekend. Having to rewire some lights, and a larger solar panel. It might get a little chilly out and our only heat source in the RTT is a dog and a couple 12v electric blankets! Good times.

So where are we headed?

Going to mark something off the bucket list headed out to Valley of the Gods for some wheeling and camping  

Jason @BeardedOverland www.beardedadv.blogspot.com

Harley's St. Patrick day story.

 

On St. Patrick’s Day, Harley, the German Shorthaired Pointer (GSP), was running joyfully in a field, her green handkerchief fluttering in the wind. After a while, she lay down in a field of clovers, only to realize that her cherished handkerchief was missing.

With a heavy heart, she retraced her steps, searching for her lost item until the sun began to set. Feeling defeated, she started her journey home, a tear trickling down her eye. But just as her home came into view, her keen nose picked up a familiar scent.

Her tail wagged in excitement as she followed the scent and found her handkerchief caught on a branch. Overwhelmed with joy, she grabbed the fabric and trotted home. That night, tired but happy, Harley curled up in front of the fire, her beloved green handkerchief by her side.

Harley's echo

Once upon a time, in a dense forest filled with towering trees, lived a spirited bird dog named Harley. Harley was known for her keen sense of hearing and her relentless determination.

One day, Harley heard a faint chirping sound. Excited, she decided to find the source of the sound, hoping it was a bird. She darted from one tree to another, her eyes scanning the branches above. The chirping echoed through the forest, guiding her path.

Harley ran tirelessly, her paws thudding against the forest floor. She zigzagged between the trees, her eyes never leaving the leafy canopies. But no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't spot any bird.

Hours turned into days, and Harley's quest continued. The chirping sound was always there, a constant companion in her search. It was as if the bird was always just out of sight, hidden among the leaves.

One day, as Harley was resting under a tree, she noticed something peculiar. The chirping sound was still there, even though she was sitting still. She tilted her head, listening closely. The sound was coming from... her collar!

Harley realized that the chirping sound she had been chasing was not a bird, but the jingling of her own collar. She had been so focused on finding the bird that she hadn't noticed the source of the sound was with her all along.

Harley couldn't help but wag her tail at the discovery. She might not have found the bird she was looking for, but she had found something else - a new understanding of herself and the world around her. And with that, Harley continued her adventures in the forest, her collar jingling merrily with each step.

Jason @BeardedOverland www.beardedadv.blogspot.com

Another great day



Had so much to do today, needed to get a hair cut, go through some sheds and get things ready to sale. Also needed to replace a bad battery that I use on the truck to power the RTT. Apparently a Duracell deep cycle battery doesn't like a little cold. 😂 while doing some maintenance I discovered that the battery was at a shocking 6.5 volt. Opps!! So instead of doing all that we went to the lake and let the dog play in the water.

Well, not exactly. We made the trip down to Bullhead and exchanged the battery, then went to the lake. It was a beautiful day, low seventies sunny, only a little breeze. It was a great day. The wife has been working very hard to train the dog off lead, which has been very successful. Her recall has improved so much. I still think she's a flight risk, and I'll keep the tracker on her at all times.

Jason @BeardedOverland www.beardedadv.blogspot.com

Playing with Ai

I asked Bing's AI to write me a story; the results were amazing! As a 'hobbyist' writer, it made me concerned about the capabilities of AI. I made a few changes to the format and added some personal touches to make it sound more like me. The title was not provided, so I named it 'The Long Night'.

In the heart of the Arizona desert, under a moonless night, a man named John set out on a backpacking trip with his loyal bird dog, Max. The vast expanse of the desert was eerily silent, save for the occasional rustle of the wind against the Joshua Trees and their tortured course trunks, and spikesd leaves.

As they ventured deeper into the desert, Max began to grow restless. His ears perked up, and he started growling at the darkness. John, feeling a chill run down his spine, decided to set up camp for the night. As the fire crackled and danced, casting long, monstrous shadows, John noticed Max's continuous unease. Suddenly, a bone-chilling howl echoed through the desert, causing Max to whimper and retreat behind John.

The howl was followed by an unnatural silence. Relaxing a bit, John had convinced himself that the howls and uneasiness of Max were from cayotes. He left the comfort of the fire and walked to the edge of the light, straining to see into the darkness beyond. Not seeing any movement John returned to the fire.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, John saw them - figures, barely visible, circling their camp. Their eyes glowed in the firelight, and they moved with an uncanny grace. Skinwalkers, John realized, his blood turning to ice.

The Skinwalkers, beings of Navajo legend, were said to be witches who could take the form of animals. They were known to terrorize those who crossed their path, and John knew he was in their territory now.

With his heart pounding, John grabbed a burning branch from the fire. He swung it around, the bright flames illuminating the grotesque faces of the skinwalkers. They hissed and retreated, but did not leave. They were toying with him, he realized, a predator playing with its prey.

Max, sensing his master's fear, sprang into action. He barked and growled, lunging at the skinwalkers. His bravery seemed to startle them, and for a moment, they backed away.

Seizing the opportunity, John picked up his backpack, took Max's leash, and ran. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like lead. When he finally dared to look back, he saw nothing but the vast, empty desert.

John and Max spent the rest of the night huddled together, hidden in a small cave they found. As dawn broke, they emerged, weary but alive. The desert, once a place of beauty and solitude for John, now held a terrifying memory.

From that day forward, John never ventured into the desert at night, always remembering the glowing eyes of the skinwalkers in the firelight. And Max, his brave bird dog, remained his loyal companion, a beacon of courage in the face of terror.

What's happening today...

 I was going to write a very interesting blog post today, about the origins and significance of Lent... I didn't. Till next time. 

What's your favorite?

The wife and I were talking the other day about our favorite songs from the 90's. I decided that on our next road trip, we should only play our favorite songs from the decade. I started my playlist in 1990, with most of the Billboard Top 100 list, with a few honorable mentions from their respected albums. So far I'm at 6 hours! 

If you are interested here is the Apple Music link for the playlist.

1991