Rant to the desert community

Now that I've moved to a new place, I am walking-distance to several things which makes me happy. What makes me unhappy is the sights I see on my way to the nearby rec center: manicured lawns and landscaping full of water-hungry plant species, gigantic trucks/SUVs in every driveway, huge air conditioning units on every over-sized home. This brought a surge of angry, frustrated thoughts that I often have when faced with the realities of living in Las Vegas. It is beyond comprehension why people move to this uniquely harsh environment and believe that it is their right to re-create some kind of lush, familiar, tree-lined urban landscape, somehow convincing themselves that their comfort & happiness trumps all other considerations when using up our very limited desert resources. If xeriscaping isn't cutting it, if the wide selection of desert-adapted plants, the assortment of geologically significant rock formations, the expansive views, the brilliant blue skies, etc, etc isn't enough to satiate your aesthetic appetite, THEN MOVE!! If you want trees, and roses, and grassy fields, MOVE!!! If you want 60 degrees indoors (despite the 100 degrees outside) then MOVE!!! Water does not magically multiply as the population does. I love how people have this delusional, American "patriotic" attitude that freedom means free-reign to rape and abuse and destroy the very America they claim to hold so dear. Why isn't preserving this country as it was, responsibly enjoying our land while leaving it unscarred so the next American can enjoy it the priority of every "patriot"?? I've seen multiple bumper stickers in this area reading "Wilderness: Land of no use" and it just saddens me that the only joy these people seem to find is brought by destruction. The American dream needs to progress beyond the white picket fence, making babies, and consuming, consuming, consuming. I implore you to seek out happiness that does not involve a purchase and to find a place that feels like home without transforming it into something completely unnatural. 

Part 3

In the low light of dawn it can be tricky to spot a very rock-like tortoises tucked under a creosote bush so we often spend a few minutes circling around a few shrubs, sometimes walking right by the critter several times until it's form becomes noticeable and we smack our heads at our obliviousness. I unload and go into health assessment trance-mode, automatically pulling out this and that out of my arsenal of medical equipment. A garbage bag laid out, saline drawn, alcohol pads at the ready, needles within reach, scale and calipers sterilized- we are ready to go. I check over the tortoise's eyes, nose, skin, shell, respiration, and overall fitness. We take photos and weigh it before we start collecting samples. Now, I'm not sure I can convince you with words as to how strong an adult tortoise can be but believe me, it takes a practiced grip and some well-toned muscles to pull a tortoise from its shell when every instinct it has screams, "suck in for your life!!!". I have become somewhat of a legend. My primary job is clean-up, meaning I go back to the tortoises that all others have failed to extract for sampling. A combination of small hands and serious arm muscles makes me perfectly suited for this task. When we're lucky though, a tortoise will cooperate and move its head about in curiosity or in an attempt to make a run for it, but when we're not lucky patience becomes our most valuable asset. I maintain a firm enough grip to hold on, but light enough to relax the tortoise and coax its head forward. Some tortoises are lured effortlessly, others have me breathing in and out as if I was in labor, pausing now and then when I can no longer ignore the fiery burn in my forearms. Tortoises don't bite but they do have an interesting technique of sharply pulling in their forearm, pinching my fingers between the bony edge of the shell and its rigid leg resulting in many curses and screams on my part. Little jerks. Still, I win in the end, and with the head secure we can get this over with. With some persuasion, we get the tortoise to open and say "ah" so I can check it's mouth for signs of herpes (seriously) and swab its pink surfaces with a long q-tip to be cultured in a lab. Then we flush out the nasal cavity using the tortoise equivalent of a neti pot, collecting the resulting fluids for culture as well. I draw some blood, get it on ice and we wrap up, clean up, and bid adieu to our tortoise who appears unfazed despite our rude poking and prodding. With a couple good interns at my side and an unfussy tortoise, I've done a full assessment in about 15 minutes, but usually takes twice as long. The mobile lab is packed up and we're on the move again, but now the sun is up and it's a race against the rays. The temperature has literally jumped a good 15 degrees and we're limited to handling tortoises under 95 to prevent over-heating. We manage to perform this routine 6-8 times a day like well-oiled machines, feeling completely drained by 10AM as lack of sleep, physical exhaustion, and the blazing sun try and convince me that sleep should be my next priority.

Back at the house, the swamp cooler has done nothing to prevent our living space from baking in the summer heat, giving us no relief. The work day is far from over. I shove some food in my mouth, guzzle a glass of water, and get right to it. Blood samples need to be centrifuged and frozen within a limited time frame so I'm in a big rush to spin, aliquot, and store our samples. Bodies and bins of equipment flood the house, everyone dashing about prepping for the next day, organizing their samples for processing, and proofing and downloading data and photos. For most work is over by noon, I'll manage to take a break at some point so we congregate on the porch, cool down with a beer while someone picks away at an instrument of some sort. There's camaraderie in this madness. Who else understands what this is like but us?

I reluctantly peel away from the group to go over the day's work and plan the next. People retreat for the night around 6PM, I'm lucky if I fall asleep by 8 because 12:45AM my alarm wakes me to start again.