Those still here in Phoenix are having troubles getting the electricity to work properly. Solar power isn’t working well due to the volcanic eruptions from Mount Rainier a while back. The ash cloud has affected the normally beautiful Arizona sunset and it looks rather gloomy these days with a reddish haze. Rolling blackouts can last for days, which doesn’t help for charging my phone and laptop to bring you this information. As it is now, I have about half battery power, but it’s the connection I’m more concerned about. As long as the phone connection holds out, I’m good, since I have to use my phone to plug into the laptop for internet access.

The damage California took on in the earthquakes has affected us as well with any transformer that feeds Phoenix. Micro-bursts have increased during this monsoon season, causing more damage to transformers and power lines with not enough people to work on them, and I’m pretty certain I saw a tornado the other day moving across the Salt River Reservation. It’s not the first one I’ve seen, but that’s just a bit too close for my taste. Where I’m staying isn’t far from that rez and we had to hide in the bathtub with a mattress pulled over us. There are no warning sirens for this area, so if we don’t happen to see the tornado, we’re out of luck. My cousin’s house on the rez was completely destroyed by the most recent one. They’re staying with mom and me now.

Partially due to the blackouts, water is scarce now within the city, and what I do manage to find outdoors has become septic. Perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes, which carry a new strain of the West Nile Virus—the one that has people walking like the dead around here. It’s rather creepy and has my imagination resorting to all those zombie movies I watched as a kid. The heat doesn’t help the situation, as it makes them even more lethargic, and the monsoon clouds seem to hold the heat in as well as the moisture, bringing humidity levels to an all time high for the area. The virus is much more contagious than before, and with what’s left of the CDC focusing on the new flu strains that have mutated beyond comprehension, amongst many other new diseases that have popped up, they haven’t had time to keep up with WNV.

I’ve taken to the nearby desert surrounding what is left of the Phoenix area to hunt barrel cactus for clean water. Unfortunately, I must contend with the wildlife for this, so I always carry my 30/30 rifle with me in case a mountain lion decides I’d make a tasty meal, since food is scarce for them, too. My cousin Daniel comes with me on these ventures because it’s not safe to travel alone anymore. Mountain lion has a very interesting taste to it, by the way, and I’m quite glad my father took us hunting when we were younger. It’s difficult to preserve any perishable food, so anything killed needs to be eaten soon or dried. When we kill something that size, we share it with anyone else who might be still around. There are a couple of families left in the neighborhood, but they’re getting ready to leave, too.

When I woke up for my morning run, the power was out again. The run is something I still do, even though the world is in a bleak state of affairs and my sneakers are falling apart. It is a custom of mine that I can’t let go. Besides, the rattlesnakes are less of a worry at dawn because they’ve fed. Daniel and I run toward the sunrise and when we stop, we take in the sun as it peaks the horizon, waving our hands toward us to bring us its strength and energy. Thus begins our day, with a spiritual connection to the universe. It’s the only way I can remain sane in this chaos. I’m not so sure about Daniel, but the man is a rock.

Here’s a picture:

On our way back, I cut into a barrel cactus and soak a bandana with the water while Daniel keeps watch. Then I transfer the water to my canteen. It’s a bit tedious, but it’s the only way to get fresh water, and it’s hardly enough for all of us so we do it as often as we can until we’re ready to leave.

Hard to believe that only three years ago, I sat on my back porch doing homework, studying geologic disasters. I never thought I’d see so many happen in such a short amount of time.

The city is no longer habitable, and I’ve run into some people who are heading north, coming up from South America and Mexico. Most of them have expressed going to Canada. My goal is to find a place with clean water and a lack of mosquitoes. Somewhere my mother will be safe. I’ve heard about a camp up north around Montezuma’s Well, which makes sense because I know there is a natural spring there.

So that’s where I’m heading. I’ll be on the road for a bit and will report back when I get the chance to…

It is very strange to hunt in the suburbs. It feels like playing cowboys and indians as a kid. You don’t hunt through trees so much, but around corners, under porches, you listen for packs of wild dogs, your ammunition doesn’t have caps and suction cups, there’s no Nerf involved.

Other than food, camping is boring. You aren’t trying to escape the job for the weekend, and so you don’t think too much about activities. It gets very stressful, because you’re always looking for danger, human or animal. There were always wild animals in this area. At the height of human population, there were the more typical animals, small birds, hawks and eagles, squirrels, possum, up to deer. Now you have household pets as well, packs of feral dogs, stray cats are common. But there are other animals that weren’t here when people were. I see foxes very often. (more animals) Coyotes were coming back, a nuisance species, really, and now are common to see. Wolves came back very strong, and there’s been some breeding between the populations, making coywolves. There are also big cats. I’ve seen lynx on a couple occasions, bobcat, and I even think I saw a large black cat, panther maybe? Some of these came from exotic pet populations, some from zoos. There were always rumors of some of these in the wild, but you never gave them any credibility before all this.

Most dangerous, though, are bears. Black bears are indigenous to the area, and humans just chased them out a couple hundred years ago. They came back now and occupy the suburbs. With lawns at a summer high since it isn’t like people are mowing them, you can be within 20 feet of an animal even of that size without seeing even a hint of their presence. If you scare one, and it decides to attack, it’s done. You won’t outrun them, you may get lucky if you have a handgun (I’m carrying one now, all the time, just in case Blankenship’s men find me), or really lucky if you have a good combat knife (I have one of those, too, now strapped at the ready on my thigh). But with those, you’ll only get one chance, and the odds are not good you’ll hit what you need to. So you carry some bells. They make noise that tells bears where you are. They’ll avoid you. You bury feces. You spread your scent around. You finish your food and discard remnants far from camp.

Soren says he is sending word on where to go soon. We’ll see what he brings me.