Pipe Tree

Years ago, Karla’s dad stacked a bunch of pipes under this tree, hence its name. Now there are only two or three 4-inch pipes buried in the weeds, and you’d have to search to find them. It used to be that you couldn’t miss seeing the 12-inch diameter 20-foot long relics from an oil patch somewhere in the Bakersfield area. Karla’s cousin Ken hauled them up for her dad to use as culvert pipes along our road.

Pipe Tree is now just a rest spot we use on our daily hikes. We put a couple of lawn chairs under the tree to make resting easier. Used to be we had to stand there, or risk picking up some awful thing if we dared to sit on the ground. Like stickers, or chiggers, or spider bites, or horse poop, or wet butts if it’s wintertime. Now it’s so nice to act like we’re civilized. Our pants are cleaner longer, too.

We haven’t prepared anyplace special for the dogs to sit, so now they get the stickers, chiggers, spider bites, horse poop, and wet butts. Oh, well.