FROM THE ROAD
AUGUST 16-30
Saturday August 16, we drove from West Yellowstone to Butte Montana. We learned from residents of Montana that Butte is considered by some to be the But of Montana and that seemed an apt phrase. Rarely have I visited a town where I felt so depressed with the reality of "industrial phase out". Butte and the surrounding area was once a thriving copper mining town that has lost its luster. The old part of town is now but a fledgling ghost town. I am not one to be overcome with sympathy by another's plight, especially when it comes to cities. However, I must admit that the loss of jobs and lack of prosperity in those areas impacted by the loss of the "vein of natural resources" has provided me an awareness of just how fickle lady luck can be. It has confirmed to me that wealth is not an entitlement - it takes hard work and diligent planning and oversight to preserve. During this year of extended travel we have visited Jerome, Bisbee, and Douglas Arizona as well as Ouray Colorado and Butte Montana, all former mining towns providing riches, hope and the good life to so many. Now vacant houses, abandoned businesses and desolate buildings stand as a memorial to the reality that yesterdays dream may be tomorrow's nightmare. We have passed through numerous other areas where abandoned mine sites sit but we are not gluttons for punishment. We did not stop to dwell on the aroma of poverty that tends to choke the air that surrounds such sites. It is not an uplifting experience.
On Sunday we arrived in Kalispell Montana where we visited Monica and Greg Held, Ashley and Nicholas. Monica is a daughter of Bruce and Gwelda Haselman and thus, 2nd generation extended family. We watched her grow up, enjoyed her company on many sailing and camping trips with the Haselman family and watched approvingly as she and Greg exchanged wedding vows. Monica is a nurse and Greg an x-ray technician. They relocated to Kalispell from California in search of a family oriented environment with good schools and a lifestyle that they believed would be more inducive to raising a family. From our limited overview, their choice seems to have been a good one and both seem satisfied with their choice and neither expressed any desire to return to California. Greg confided that he actually looks forward to going to work. That, in my opinion, is reflective of a man who made a right career choice. Monica practices her "skills" as a surgical nurse on a short week basis which provides her an extra day of quality time for their growing children. We had a wonderful visit with the Held's. The Held children, are extremely well mannered, respectful and quiet for five and ten year olds. After dinner in a great Italian restaurant, Ken and I said goodbye to our young friends and made our way to a RV Park in the pines outside of Glacier National Park in preparation for exploring the park on Monday.
Monday we embarked on our drive through Glacier National Park amid the smoke from the several fires that still burned uncontrollably within the park. It was our hope that we would reach a point where we might view what we understand is one of the most beautiful National Parks in our system. Alas, the smoke was everywhere and at no time could we view the great natural beauty that was hidden by the smoke that hung like a mask over the canyons, lakes and mountains. It was a disappointing drive albeit one that we had looked forward to with great anticipation. There is no doubt that there is great beauty there that remained hidden from us by the smoke but I am not sure that I would go over that route again. As I looked straight down into the steep ravines and mountains, I closed my eyes and asked myself if I really wanted to see this beauty first hand or whether I might not be better viewing it through colored glasses exacerbated by smoke. That drive is not for the faint of heart!
Tuesday we departed smokey Glacier National Park and made our way across the border into Canada where we hoped to escape the fires that had plagued us both in Yellowstone and Glacier. As we drove across the border and up Highway 93, the traffic was light, the roadway scenic and the weather accommodating. We stopped for lunch in Cranbrook, a pleasant mountain town on the edge of the Kootenay mountains. After lunch we proceeded to Radium Hot Springs, a true five star RV resort in spite of the smoke that hung over the area. We found the resort "visitor friendly" and decided to extend our visit to three nights instead of the planned two, in spite of the smoke. Ken had been having some problems with his back and this seemed a good place to "cool it" for a day or so.
As our time in the resort passed, the smoke grew worse and we learned that the fires were rapidly expanding, sometimes tripling in size from one day to the next. Our friends, the Herberts, had suggested that we might want to include the Okanagan area of BC on our itinerary and we had considered it. However, radio and television reported several out of control fires in the Kootenay Mountains and the Okanagan area with campers and residents reportedly being evacuated. We decided to proceed on to Lake Louise and Jasper via Highway 95 in the hope that we would escape the smoke and the fire hazards. Highway 93 which would have been our preferred route was closed except during certain hours for escorted travel. We have heard reports on radio and television that the Kelowna and Cranbrook areas were hard hit by the numerous fires in those areas which has reinforced the wisdom of our decision.
On Friday, we embarked for our long planned trip to Lake Louise. Alas, by the time we reached the turn off for Lake Louise, the smoke was so bad that we felt that we would not be able to really see the beautiful Lake when we arrived. The smoke was not only dense, it was beginning to affect our breathing. So, with a heavy heart, we put Lake Louise on a "return itinerary" and turned toward Jasper and proceeded along the Icefield Parkway to Jasper.
We stopped at the Athabasca (sp?) Glacier for lunch after which Ken took the escorted trip up to the Glacier. I walked up to the Visitors Hall with him, watched him embark on his trek to the ice and then returned to the bus where I read and took a nap. Ken thoroughly enjoyed the Glacier adventure and I enjoyed the brief respite from travel and scenic wonders. It was a "win win" event.
We arrived at Whistlers, a public camp ground in Jasper National Park, early Friday evening, settled in for the night and since this was a "no frills" Park, (dry camping and heaven forbid, no TV) played a game of scrabble and called it a day.
Saturday, August 23 and a full day. It rained during the night and when we awoke this morning, it was cold as in VERY! We heard reports that a cold front was moving in and believe me when they promise a cold front in Canada, they deliver. We treated ourselves to breakfast out and as we walked up the street practicing "touristing", we were cold. We determined that we needed our colorful wind breakers that are always in the car in anticipation of the unexpected, thanks to Marvis and Bob Gersten. We then drove up to the Tram where we watched as people braved the cold and wind to take the tram to the top of the hill. I don't do trams, so we returned to the coach, added another layer of warm clothes and once again, embarked on a trek into the mountains to Lake Maligne, a beautiful lake nestled among the pines high in the forest above the town of Jasper. We decided to take a tour of the Lake which turned out to be a beautiful trip on the glacier fed lake and a nice entry into our memory banks for this beautiful area. For the first time since we arrived in Montana, we were relatively of free of smoke for an entire day.
Sunday, August 24, we drove to Prince George where the streets appeared to have been "rolled up" in honor of Sunday. After a quick drive though the town, we decided to proceed on toward Vancouver in anticipation of spending an additional day in that area. We continued on down the road to a RV park just outside of Lake Williams that seemed adequate for a "one night stand"..
Monday, August 25, we debated whether to take Highway 99 or Highway 97 into Vancouver. We decided on Highway 97, which was a beautiful drive but one of the most tiring drives of our trip. Highway 97 is a two lane trans Canada Highway that is the primary link between North and South with too few pull outs to accommodate slower moving traffic such as ourselves. By the end of the day when we merged onto Highway 1, Ken's knuckles were hurting although he maintains that he was not holding onto the steering wheel tightly. Undoubtedly it was transferred pain because I certainly was holding onto the steering wheel from the passenger seat. We stopped and watched rafters maneuvering the Fraser River which appeared to be a definite "E" ride. We completed the last few miles of Highway 97, entered Highway 1 which more clearly resembled a California expressway and begin our search for a stop for the night. After our drive down the mountain spearheaded by scads of trucks, many with heavily loaded with double trailers, a lot of log trucks and semis trying to make a living, we were happy to call it a day.
Tuesday, we made our way into Vancouver and checked into a RV park in Richmond. After a brief rest, we hopped in the "towed" and drove to the ferry terminal for a schedule of the ships to Vancouver Island. As we were departing the ferry terminal, Ken spotted wild berries and insisted on stopping and picking them for his breakfast. I was horrified! This was an apparent carryover from his memories of his 5-month childhood trip with his parents when they stopped and picked wild berries. He seems to have attached a romantic fascination to this "poaching" endeavor so I just sat in the car and ignored his "childhood reversion". From the ferry terminal we drove downtown Vancouver to Stanley Park for a view of beautiful downtown Vancouver and the bay. We decided to have dinner at a restaurant at Promintory Point which was more than adequate with a lovely view of the bay and first hand entertainment by the resident creatures (racoons) scurrying in the bushes below. After dinner we drove to the other side of the park and enjoyed a nice walk along the shore where we watched several fisherman netting smelt presumably to supplement the family food budget. Ken was able to get a couple of outstanding sunset photos and with darkness, we made our way back to the "coach" to prepare for our early morning departure to Victoria.
Wednesday, we caught the 8AM ferry for the 90 minute sail from the Tsawwassen (somebody should help those Indians with their spelling) terminal to Vancouver Island. It was a beautiful scenic sail through the Strait of Georgia past the many small islands on our approach to Swartz Bay for our Island disembarkation. Our first stop on Vancouver Island was beautiful the Butchart Gardens, where the Butchart family reclaimed an old rock quarry and transformed it into a spectacular experience for the estimated million visitors to that park each year. The grounds are visually appealing, aesthetically beautiful, geometrically balanced and aromatically pleasing. After our 2-hour walk through the gardens we drove into Victoria, a beautiful city on the water with gorgeous old buildings standing in stately silence overlooking the bay below. What a charming city and as we parked our "towed" and prepared to do a "walkabout", an eager citizen surveyed our dirty car with its California license and greeted us with an offer of tourist "recommendations". What a charming man and we listened to his recommendations and followed his suggestion to do a drive around the island to view the "nice tar paper shacks" along the drive for their beautiful gardens, listened to his recommendations for restaurants that have "good groceries" and took to heart his caution about watching our parking time on the meters. All in all a delightful encounter with one of Victoria's seniors. After our drive around the city we checked into our hotel, which turned out to be an inflated "four star" but clean. Another one of Ken's "bargains" and I should know better than to trust his bargain hunting after all of these years. An after dinner walk along the boardwalk overlooking the marina was a pleasant way to conclude a most enjoyable day.
Thursday, we reluctantly departed Victoria for a more in depth look of the island and found ourselves on the road leading to the ferry terminal at Swartz Bay. We were not ready to depart so we cut across the island and circled around through many beautiful bay front homes (mansions would be a better description) until we finally arrived at a small bay with a ferry which seemed like a good adventure to include in our day on the island. We boarded the ferry at Brentwood Bay and took the 25-minute ride across the channel to Mill Bay which took us to the road we should have been on in the first place. From Mill Bay we proceeded to Nanaimo, Parksville and onward with a planned itinerary for Port Alberni until I suggested to Ken that perhaps he had Port Alberni mixed up with Port Albion on the Pacific. A review of the map by "his nibs" proved me correct and we turned back. It was too far for us to achieve his hoped for destination in a one day excursion and still make our return ferry. We settled for a walk along the beach at Parksville and topped our day on the island off with dinner at the marina in old town Nanaimo. We were tired when we boarded the 815 PM ferry from Duke Point to Tsawwassen terminal in Richmond. We arrived back to our "home on wheels" at 11 PM, happy campers to be back in our own "bed".
Friday was a laid back day with lunch at Horshoe Bay and a drive to Whistler. We enjoyed refreshments overlooking the bicycle runs where people of all ages boarded the ski trams with their bicycles for a trip to the top of the mountain and a fast and exciting ride down the mountain. It was an entertaining respite for two old folks who could only marvel at the beauty of this designated site for the 2010 winter Olympics. A good finale to our pleasant and enjoyable visit to Canada, a beautiful country with awesome versatility. If Vancouver Island was in America, we'd love to have a place there.
We were unable to get into the park that we had designated for the 30th so we elected to spend another day at the rv resort in Richmond and do laundry, chores and relax. After our chores were done, we visited Stevenson Village, a fishing port where fishing boat operators "hawk" their fresh catch of the day surrounded by restaurants that prepare excellent seafood purchased fresh from the boat. We enjoyed a Crantini cocktail and a Paella dinner on the wharf before returning to the RV Park and a 45 minute walk with Ken again stopping to poach the local berry bushes for fresh berries. I returned to the Park and waited. I refuse to be involved in his "berry poaching". Admittedly, they were good the next day if one can overlook the manner in which they were obtained. .
There you have it - more than you ever wanted to know about the escapades of Ken and Pat Burns on he road.
On to Seattle today, the 31st. Hope you are all enjoying a fine labor day weekend.
Sunday, August 17, 2003
ON THE ROAD
Monday morning August 11, we departed Camp Verde, Arizona for our first stop on the road, St George Utah. We arrived St George at 530P weary from a full days drive. Most of the territory had been covered before but the drive past the North Rim of the Grand Canyon was beautiful and our entry into this area of Utah gave us another view of that State.
Tuesday morning we were up early in readiness for what was to be a five hour trip to Provo. Once the RV was "bedded", we departed for a scenic view of Bridal Veil Falls up Provo Canyon and then over the pass into Park City where we spent a skiing holiday with the children in the early 70's. Of course, nothing remains the same and just as growth and building has overtaken every city, town and State, Park City was a victim of progress. It was not at all as we remembered it. No surprise there.
From Park City we dropped down to Salt Lake City where we visited Temple Square and the Mormon compound located therein. During our walk through the Visitors Center, a friendly "sleuth" directed Ken to a flagpole" in the middle of the square for a free tour and history of the Mormon pilgrimage West to Utah. The tours, 30-minutes in duration are conducted every 10 minutes. Free tour? Of course, Ken was interested!
As we approached the area of the flagpole, we were welcomed by two personable young ladies whose job it was to make us comfortable, reassure us that our guides would be along momentarily and, I suspicion, keep us interested while we waited the few minutes until the next scheduled tour. Our guides, two young attractive college age, charismatic ladies appeared and introduced themselves by name (which I failed to note). One girl was from Oregon. The second one was from the Philippines and, of course, I didn't get her name either. They began their "pitch" by giving us some Biblical history according to their Mormon beliefs and provided some background on the building of the temple and the trek of pioneer Mormons from three Mid-western States from which they had been ostracized. (I remember Missouri and Illinois but my memory does not stretch to three). I will give you my impression of what they conveyed but I hasten to remind you that this is as I remember what they said, not necessarily what they said!
At each stop, an interesting "sermonizing" of the foundations of the Mormon faith was presented along with Church history and the development of the Temple, the Cathedral and the Meeting Place (Church in Protestant terms). Those of you who are familiar with my reluctance to be sermonized are no doubt wondering how I managed. It was one of my more indulgent moments. In the process, I learned that the Temple took eight years to build out of stone brought in by wagon from somewhere in Utah's outback; That the stones were very heavy, on occasion breaking the wagon beds on which they were carried; The Cathedral and Meeting Place were built in a much shorter time span; and the new Meeting Place was constructed from remnants of rock unsatisfactory for use in the Temple. The first Meeting Place is now used only for meetings, special occasions etc. I was particularly impressed with the commitment and devotion of those people who followed their leader, Brigham Young, from the mid-west through the rough rock strewn desert and mountainous terrain into Utah.
As the two young women did their "spiel" I could not help but applaud the devotion and loyalty that they and their peers seem to impart in both words and deed. Mormon I am not. However, many Mormons that I have personally known seem to be committed to their belief, practice what they preach, apply their convictions to everyday life and exhibit a devotion to the principles in which they believe. I know there are those who disagree with their belief, but it seems to me that tolerance is a key to survival of mankind and religious tolerance is a mandatory prerequisite. Certainly, there are those whose commitment to the ideals and principles espoused by the Church may be questioned. And, unquestionably, the Book of Mormon and the foundations of the Mormon belief can be open to debate and for many, is suspect. However, the Mormon Church, as well as Churches in general, is only as strong as the faith and the practices reflected through its members. From my viewpoint, it seems to be standing the test of time as well as any other. I know of no Religion that does not have its fair share of people whose convictions cannot be questioned.
I learned that the two "guides" are "missionaries" in the church. They serve for eighteen months and they pay their own way during their period of service. They apply for the mission field and the "hierarchy" of the Church (Governing Board of Bishops, elders or whatever) decides in what area of missions they will serve. They are assigned by the Board based on information provided in their application, education, background, interests and skills. Missionary candidates are dispatched throughout the world but their application is to serve at Temple Square. I understood them to say that once accepted and after their training, they may be dispatched anywhere in the World. I asked the young lady from Oregon what she would do upon completion of her mission and she said that she would probably return to college in Idaho, where she would finish her last year. I asked her what her major was and she said communications and public relations. I complemented her on what seemed to me a good choice in view of her warm personable manner.
In summary, I was very impressed with the number of young missionaries who could be seen walking through the courtyard to classes, meetings, assignments or whatever. The Mormon Church seems to have no problem enrolling its young people to its missions program and for that alone, they should be applauded. No smoke with a suspect odor was evident, all of the young lady "missionaries" were modestly dressed (not one single belly button was see n) hair was well groomed and not a single tatoo! The young men were clean shaven, their hair neat and well groomed, professionally dressed (suits and neckties) and they walked with purpose and apparent enthusiasm. As I viewed the buildings, listened to the history and observed the evidence of belief, I could not help but think that whatever else one may say about the Mormons, the way of life in which they believe and their commitment to their religious philosophy deserves our respect for it reflects principle, faith and hope. In my view, these are traits badly needed in our troubled society of today.
Wednesday was a day of travel with an overnight in Rexford Idaho, a beautiful sleepy farm/ranch town surrounded by the breathing room that few city dwellers ever experience. Rexford is less than 100 miles from Yellowstone where we will visit Old Faithful and observe first hand, up close and personal that phenomena of nature.
Thursday we did a "scenic" drive to view some spectacular waterfalls and beautiful country en route to our Yellowstone stop. The road was narrow but good with many steep grades. I complained strongly to the "pilot" of this rig and accused him of treating this 32 foot + coach with attached "towed" as a mini cruiser. I think that the next time he sees a scenic drive on a secondary road, he will think twice. At least, I hope so because if not, I am apt to express my dissatisfaction even more strongly! The drive was lovely and the scenery spectacular, but I would have enjoyed it more in our "towed".
Once ensconced in the RV Park of our choice, we were off to Yellowstone where the deer, the elk and the bison roam freely and old faithful and its many neighboring geysers spew forth with their steam, hot air and odors of sulphur. To every experience there must be some price! Once again I was appalled by the ravages of fire that remain to remind us of the perils of both lightening and man. This was my first trip to Yellowstone and it was, indeed, an awesome experience to see for the first time.
We entered Yellowstone at the West entrance and after pre programmed stops, proceeded to Jackson Wyoming where we spent the night. The next morning we entered Teton National Park and viewed the beautiful Tetons towering over us in silent majesty. In honor of Ken's birthday we did a raft float down the Snake River and much to my surprise, it was truly an enjoyable adventure. The river trip was beautiful with the Grand Tetons reinforcing my amazement at the grandeur of natures landscape. As my "pilot" navigated the roads in the park, I basked in the beauty of the Tetons, Yellowstone and the wild life that inhabits those wonderful treasures. Further, I was humbled by their silent reminder of how minuscule we humans really are in comparison to the marvels of nature and the earth on which we have been granted sanctuary.
There you have it, our second week on the road. We miss our friends who have returned to their busy world and home. We wish they could have joined us in our travels as we view the beautiful scenery and enjoy the wide open spaces. Tomorrow, Sunday we will continue on our high adventure into an area just outside of Glacier National Park where we will stop for a brief hello to Monica and Greg Held and their two children in Kalispell. Monica is a daughter of our friends, Bruce and Gwelda Haselman. We will say hello to the Helds and then proceed on into Canada missing Glacier National Park due to the forest fire that still plague the Park. Indeed, it seems that much of Montana is on fire. As I look out the windows of our coach, a dark cloud of smoke surrounds us. It is report that as many as 20 fires may be burning out of control throughout the State.
Don't forget to stay in touch and keep us in the loop in spite of our "gypsy" nature. I hope that you have all managed to avoid the latest computer virus. I am not sure that Terri has avoided it. We talked to Terri today and she expressed concern that she might be a victim. I surely hope not.
Mormon Temple
Old Faithful
Riding the Rapids
The Tetons
THERE YOU HAVE IT!
Monday morning August 11, we departed Camp Verde, Arizona for our first stop on the road, St George Utah. We arrived St George at 530P weary from a full days drive. Most of the territory had been covered before but the drive past the North Rim of the Grand Canyon was beautiful and our entry into this area of Utah gave us another view of that State.
Tuesday morning we were up early in readiness for what was to be a five hour trip to Provo. Once the RV was "bedded", we departed for a scenic view of Bridal Veil Falls up Provo Canyon and then over the pass into Park City where we spent a skiing holiday with the children in the early 70's. Of course, nothing remains the same and just as growth and building has overtaken every city, town and State, Park City was a victim of progress. It was not at all as we remembered it. No surprise there.
From Park City we dropped down to Salt Lake City where we visited Temple Square and the Mormon compound located therein. During our walk through the Visitors Center, a friendly "sleuth" directed Ken to a flagpole" in the middle of the square for a free tour and history of the Mormon pilgrimage West to Utah. The tours, 30-minutes in duration are conducted every 10 minutes. Free tour? Of course, Ken was interested!
As we approached the area of the flagpole, we were welcomed by two personable young ladies whose job it was to make us comfortable, reassure us that our guides would be along momentarily and, I suspicion, keep us interested while we waited the few minutes until the next scheduled tour. Our guides, two young attractive college age, charismatic ladies appeared and introduced themselves by name (which I failed to note). One girl was from Oregon. The second one was from the Philippines and, of course, I didn't get her name either. They began their "pitch" by giving us some Biblical history according to their Mormon beliefs and provided some background on the building of the temple and the trek of pioneer Mormons from three Mid-western States from which they had been ostracized. (I remember Missouri and Illinois but my memory does not stretch to three). I will give you my impression of what they conveyed but I hasten to remind you that this is as I remember what they said, not necessarily what they said!
At each stop, an interesting "sermonizing" of the foundations of the Mormon faith was presented along with Church history and the development of the Temple, the Cathedral and the Meeting Place (Church in Protestant terms). Those of you who are familiar with my reluctance to be sermonized are no doubt wondering how I managed. It was one of my more indulgent moments. In the process, I learned that the Temple took eight years to build out of stone brought in by wagon from somewhere in Utah's outback; That the stones were very heavy, on occasion breaking the wagon beds on which they were carried; The Cathedral and Meeting Place were built in a much shorter time span; and the new Meeting Place was constructed from remnants of rock unsatisfactory for use in the Temple. The first Meeting Place is now used only for meetings, special occasions etc. I was particularly impressed with the commitment and devotion of those people who followed their leader, Brigham Young, from the mid-west through the rough rock strewn desert and mountainous terrain into Utah.
As the two young women did their "spiel" I could not help but applaud the devotion and loyalty that they and their peers seem to impart in both words and deed. Mormon I am not. However, many Mormons that I have personally known seem to be committed to their belief, practice what they preach, apply their convictions to everyday life and exhibit a devotion to the principles in which they believe. I know there are those who disagree with their belief, but it seems to me that tolerance is a key to survival of mankind and religious tolerance is a mandatory prerequisite. Certainly, there are those whose commitment to the ideals and principles espoused by the Church may be questioned. And, unquestionably, the Book of Mormon and the foundations of the Mormon belief can be open to debate and for many, is suspect. However, the Mormon Church, as well as Churches in general, is only as strong as the faith and the practices reflected through its members. From my viewpoint, it seems to be standing the test of time as well as any other. I know of no Religion that does not have its fair share of people whose convictions cannot be questioned.
I learned that the two "guides" are "missionaries" in the church. They serve for eighteen months and they pay their own way during their period of service. They apply for the mission field and the "hierarchy" of the Church (Governing Board of Bishops, elders or whatever) decides in what area of missions they will serve. They are assigned by the Board based on information provided in their application, education, background, interests and skills. Missionary candidates are dispatched throughout the world but their application is to serve at Temple Square. I understood them to say that once accepted and after their training, they may be dispatched anywhere in the World. I asked the young lady from Oregon what she would do upon completion of her mission and she said that she would probably return to college in Idaho, where she would finish her last year. I asked her what her major was and she said communications and public relations. I complemented her on what seemed to me a good choice in view of her warm personable manner.
In summary, I was very impressed with the number of young missionaries who could be seen walking through the courtyard to classes, meetings, assignments or whatever. The Mormon Church seems to have no problem enrolling its young people to its missions program and for that alone, they should be applauded. No smoke with a suspect odor was evident, all of the young lady "missionaries" were modestly dressed (not one single belly button was see n) hair was well groomed and not a single tatoo! The young men were clean shaven, their hair neat and well groomed, professionally dressed (suits and neckties) and they walked with purpose and apparent enthusiasm. As I viewed the buildings, listened to the history and observed the evidence of belief, I could not help but think that whatever else one may say about the Mormons, the way of life in which they believe and their commitment to their religious philosophy deserves our respect for it reflects principle, faith and hope. In my view, these are traits badly needed in our troubled society of today.
Wednesday was a day of travel with an overnight in Rexford Idaho, a beautiful sleepy farm/ranch town surrounded by the breathing room that few city dwellers ever experience. Rexford is less than 100 miles from Yellowstone where we will visit Old Faithful and observe first hand, up close and personal that phenomena of nature.
Thursday we did a "scenic" drive to view some spectacular waterfalls and beautiful country en route to our Yellowstone stop. The road was narrow but good with many steep grades. I complained strongly to the "pilot" of this rig and accused him of treating this 32 foot + coach with attached "towed" as a mini cruiser. I think that the next time he sees a scenic drive on a secondary road, he will think twice. At least, I hope so because if not, I am apt to express my dissatisfaction even more strongly! The drive was lovely and the scenery spectacular, but I would have enjoyed it more in our "towed".
Once ensconced in the RV Park of our choice, we were off to Yellowstone where the deer, the elk and the bison roam freely and old faithful and its many neighboring geysers spew forth with their steam, hot air and odors of sulphur. To every experience there must be some price! Once again I was appalled by the ravages of fire that remain to remind us of the perils of both lightening and man. This was my first trip to Yellowstone and it was, indeed, an awesome experience to see for the first time.
We entered Yellowstone at the West entrance and after pre programmed stops, proceeded to Jackson Wyoming where we spent the night. The next morning we entered Teton National Park and viewed the beautiful Tetons towering over us in silent majesty. In honor of Ken's birthday we did a raft float down the Snake River and much to my surprise, it was truly an enjoyable adventure. The river trip was beautiful with the Grand Tetons reinforcing my amazement at the grandeur of natures landscape. As my "pilot" navigated the roads in the park, I basked in the beauty of the Tetons, Yellowstone and the wild life that inhabits those wonderful treasures. Further, I was humbled by their silent reminder of how minuscule we humans really are in comparison to the marvels of nature and the earth on which we have been granted sanctuary.
There you have it, our second week on the road. We miss our friends who have returned to their busy world and home. We wish they could have joined us in our travels as we view the beautiful scenery and enjoy the wide open spaces. Tomorrow, Sunday we will continue on our high adventure into an area just outside of Glacier National Park where we will stop for a brief hello to Monica and Greg Held and their two children in Kalispell. Monica is a daughter of our friends, Bruce and Gwelda Haselman. We will say hello to the Helds and then proceed on into Canada missing Glacier National Park due to the forest fire that still plague the Park. Indeed, it seems that much of Montana is on fire. As I look out the windows of our coach, a dark cloud of smoke surrounds us. It is report that as many as 20 fires may be burning out of control throughout the State.
Don't forget to stay in touch and keep us in the loop in spite of our "gypsy" nature. I hope that you have all managed to avoid the latest computer virus. I am not sure that Terri has avoided it. We talked to Terri today and she expressed concern that she might be a victim. I surely hope not.
Mormon Temple
Old Faithful
Riding the Rapids
The Tetons
THERE YOU HAVE IT!
Sunday, August 10, 2003
AND NOW FOR THE REST OF THE WEEK!
Group of Six with Orange hats
On Thursday Ken's brother Don joined us for a guided tour of the former mining town of Jerome, the museum and the history of the mine that once provided jobs to a community of 15,000. The trip was concluded by a visit to the Gold King mine and the graveyard of relics that were once state of the art tools, vehicles and devices of another era. The highlight of this visit for the men was "Big Bertha". According to Ken it was a gigantic three cylinder engine with a flywheel approximately ten foot in diameter that once ran a generator to supply the mining town with electricity. It was so big that it required a tractor engine to start it up. The men delighted in the sound of the old motor as it wheezed its way into life and clamored through its dramatic presentation aided by a medium sized old cowboy with a beard down to his chest and a twinkle in his eye. I think it would be fair to attribute the ladies assessment of this experience as a trip to the junkyard and I might not disagree. However, I have visited there twice and each time I come away with not only the realization that I have visited a junk yard but also with a reenforcement of my convictions that our world has progressed remarkably and that what is now high tech was once a man's vision that he dared to translate into reality, however crude his first efforts.
Big Bertha with Caretaker
Our visit to Jerome was completed with lunch at the Haunted Hamburger where we enjoyed our individual food tastes from a view overlooking the vast Verde Valley where Indians once roamed and modern man now transforms.
Friday was spent wandering the around the beautiful red rocks of Sedona. It started with casing out the plane rides for an overview of the area and while the would be passengers pondered their flight we returned to downtown old Sedona for a walk through the many art galleries that display the work of the local artists. Bob and Kitty used this time of browsing by the art buffs for a flight through the skies and an overview of the area. Upon their return we circumnavigated the area by car and though one would be hard pressed to cite one beautiful scene over another, a visit to Frank Lloyd Wright's, Cathedral Rock Chapel, built among the beautiful red rocks of Sedoona, was both an inspiring and spiritually uplifting experience, however short lived it may have been. After our brief encounter with the red rocks, we sped up the highway to Oak Creek Canyon for a visit to Slide Rock State Park. Our children Gary and Terri had many summer adventures enjoying the cool water that streams down over the rocks to creates a natural rock slide. As children, they would spend their summers with their grandparents in Prescott and at least once each summer, their grandparents, with Uncle Don and Aunt Barbara when available, would accompany them to Slide Rock and Oak Creek Canyon for a few days camping. Ken, Marvis and Kitty went prepared for a slide down the rock, but alas, a storm was brewing and all decided that they had best look to the sky for direction. The response was quick in the form of a flash of lightening and a clash of thunder. How specific can one get? Obviously the vortex can work.
Thankfully I seem to have survived the time share presentation exercise and our friends appeared to forgive me their brief encounter with the wild world of time share marketing. Bob and Kitty left early Saturday morning for Las Vegas and their flight home. Bob and Marvis are on their way home as I write this. We left them off at Phoenix last evening for a nights rest in preparation for their early morning flight out. We will miss our four buddies from our shared trip to Spain and Portugal where we first met. We consider them good friends and great traveling companions. For a bunch of hard headed independent minded people, we all have a great time.
En route to Phoenix, we drove Marvis and Bob over the mountain into Prescott for an introduction to that area that we were informed now belongs to former Californians. Prescott used to be a quaint little laid back "cattle" town but alas, it has grown leaps and bounds in the 50 years since I visited it for the first time as a bride. Ken and I were in shock at the changes that have transpired since we were last there in 1997. New communities now flourish where once beautiful ranches and farms existed. Progress can be sad for those who cherish memories of another time. Alas, time marches on and leaves no stone untouched. Our visit to Prescott was capped off by a visit to the "Art fair" which was interesting and representative of the area. I think that Marvis and Bob enjoyed their brief visit to Prescott. Prescott, though missing the beautiful scenery of the red rocks, seems to me more inviting and down to earth than Sedona. For me, Sedona seems to radiate an air of snobbery in spite of its "vortex". Give me a break!
After our visit to Prescott we headed down the mountain to Phoenix where we were greeted by 114 degree temperatures. Of course, that was only 10 or 14 degrees higher than what we had experienced throughout the week, but our ability to cope was beginning to be challenged.
There you have it. A week in the Hills with the awesome six. Kitty thought she would probably dream in red for the near future and Marvis promised to paint them. Something for everyone.
By the way, did I cover the orange hats before? We received many comments on our orange hats as we walked the streets, climbed the rocks and waded the creeks. The hats were our "trademark" and we had a ball as one after another we sauntered down the streets. We were out to have a good time and the orange caps helped us include the masses who walked with us, intentionally or not. If one tarried a bit long, all we had to ask was, "have you seen any orange hats go by?" It worked.
Ken and I are off to St George Utah tomorrow on the first leg of our "Canada bound" excursion. Tune in for further reports of our adventures on the road. I'll try to provide weekly updates whenever possible.
Have a good week.
Group of Six with Orange hats
On Thursday Ken's brother Don joined us for a guided tour of the former mining town of Jerome, the museum and the history of the mine that once provided jobs to a community of 15,000. The trip was concluded by a visit to the Gold King mine and the graveyard of relics that were once state of the art tools, vehicles and devices of another era. The highlight of this visit for the men was "Big Bertha". According to Ken it was a gigantic three cylinder engine with a flywheel approximately ten foot in diameter that once ran a generator to supply the mining town with electricity. It was so big that it required a tractor engine to start it up. The men delighted in the sound of the old motor as it wheezed its way into life and clamored through its dramatic presentation aided by a medium sized old cowboy with a beard down to his chest and a twinkle in his eye. I think it would be fair to attribute the ladies assessment of this experience as a trip to the junkyard and I might not disagree. However, I have visited there twice and each time I come away with not only the realization that I have visited a junk yard but also with a reenforcement of my convictions that our world has progressed remarkably and that what is now high tech was once a man's vision that he dared to translate into reality, however crude his first efforts.
Big Bertha with Caretaker
Our visit to Jerome was completed with lunch at the Haunted Hamburger where we enjoyed our individual food tastes from a view overlooking the vast Verde Valley where Indians once roamed and modern man now transforms.
Friday was spent wandering the around the beautiful red rocks of Sedona. It started with casing out the plane rides for an overview of the area and while the would be passengers pondered their flight we returned to downtown old Sedona for a walk through the many art galleries that display the work of the local artists. Bob and Kitty used this time of browsing by the art buffs for a flight through the skies and an overview of the area. Upon their return we circumnavigated the area by car and though one would be hard pressed to cite one beautiful scene over another, a visit to Frank Lloyd Wright's, Cathedral Rock Chapel, built among the beautiful red rocks of Sedoona, was both an inspiring and spiritually uplifting experience, however short lived it may have been. After our brief encounter with the red rocks, we sped up the highway to Oak Creek Canyon for a visit to Slide Rock State Park. Our children Gary and Terri had many summer adventures enjoying the cool water that streams down over the rocks to creates a natural rock slide. As children, they would spend their summers with their grandparents in Prescott and at least once each summer, their grandparents, with Uncle Don and Aunt Barbara when available, would accompany them to Slide Rock and Oak Creek Canyon for a few days camping. Ken, Marvis and Kitty went prepared for a slide down the rock, but alas, a storm was brewing and all decided that they had best look to the sky for direction. The response was quick in the form of a flash of lightening and a clash of thunder. How specific can one get? Obviously the vortex can work.
Thankfully I seem to have survived the time share presentation exercise and our friends appeared to forgive me their brief encounter with the wild world of time share marketing. Bob and Kitty left early Saturday morning for Las Vegas and their flight home. Bob and Marvis are on their way home as I write this. We left them off at Phoenix last evening for a nights rest in preparation for their early morning flight out. We will miss our four buddies from our shared trip to Spain and Portugal where we first met. We consider them good friends and great traveling companions. For a bunch of hard headed independent minded people, we all have a great time.
En route to Phoenix, we drove Marvis and Bob over the mountain into Prescott for an introduction to that area that we were informed now belongs to former Californians. Prescott used to be a quaint little laid back "cattle" town but alas, it has grown leaps and bounds in the 50 years since I visited it for the first time as a bride. Ken and I were in shock at the changes that have transpired since we were last there in 1997. New communities now flourish where once beautiful ranches and farms existed. Progress can be sad for those who cherish memories of another time. Alas, time marches on and leaves no stone untouched. Our visit to Prescott was capped off by a visit to the "Art fair" which was interesting and representative of the area. I think that Marvis and Bob enjoyed their brief visit to Prescott. Prescott, though missing the beautiful scenery of the red rocks, seems to me more inviting and down to earth than Sedona. For me, Sedona seems to radiate an air of snobbery in spite of its "vortex". Give me a break!
After our visit to Prescott we headed down the mountain to Phoenix where we were greeted by 114 degree temperatures. Of course, that was only 10 or 14 degrees higher than what we had experienced throughout the week, but our ability to cope was beginning to be challenged.
There you have it. A week in the Hills with the awesome six. Kitty thought she would probably dream in red for the near future and Marvis promised to paint them. Something for everyone.
By the way, did I cover the orange hats before? We received many comments on our orange hats as we walked the streets, climbed the rocks and waded the creeks. The hats were our "trademark" and we had a ball as one after another we sauntered down the streets. We were out to have a good time and the orange caps helped us include the masses who walked with us, intentionally or not. If one tarried a bit long, all we had to ask was, "have you seen any orange hats go by?" It worked.
Ken and I are off to St George Utah tomorrow on the first leg of our "Canada bound" excursion. Tune in for further reports of our adventures on the road. I'll try to provide weekly updates whenever possible.
Have a good week.
Thursday, August 07, 2003
QUICK NOTE FROM THE ROAD
We are back in the mountains of Arizona though our primary location is really in the great Verde Valley and Sedona where the beautiful red rocks confront our view and incite our imagination with beauty and awe.
Tuesday we visited Montezuma's Castle and Montezuma's Well where we paid tribute to the Indians that once roamed the hills and canyons of this area. Montezuma's Castle is but one of many similar remaining reminders of the life of the Indians whose freedom and lifestyle we usurped. However, it is difficult to imagine how hard their life must have been. As one looks upon the remaining facade of the abode called Montezuma's Castle, one is reminded that a "man's home is his castle" and that "home is where the heart is" but truthfully, I had trouble applying either of those "cliches" to the small space carved in the rocks high above the ground. I lack humility, I think.
Wednesday the six of us took the Verde Valley train from Clarkdale along the Verde River through the canyons to Perkinsville where the engines were moved to the back of the train and we made our way back the same route from which we entered. It was a scenic trip through the canyons as eagles soared above us amid visions of fairy tales and historic faces seemingly carved in the cliffs along the route. One would have to spend many hours in obsessive mental imaging to find those visions but fortunately for us, someone had done due diligence.
I must confess to always trying to be on the alert to an opportunity. Upon learning that a time share presentation would provide free first class tickets to the train ride, I talked our friends into an experience that may have severely stressed our friendship, a time share presentation! Our friends, Marvis and Bob, had never experienced the sheer exhaustion of such an undertaking before and upon conclusion of the hell into which I had sacrificed their time, vowed to never attend another. I am sure there is no enticement sufficient to allure them into a repeat experience and I am sure my future recommendations will forever be viewed as suspect. Bob and Kitty had attended time share presentations and thus, were better prepared to "cope" with the hell to which I had subjected them. My thought was that 90 minutes of time was worth the train trip but Marvis is still working and thus, places a higher value on her time than I do on mine as a retired "fixed income" person. I understand Marvis' position and it is not unlike my attitude when I was working and my vacations were sacred. I am not sure that either couple considered the train ride worth the misery of a time share presentation but I wanted our friends to experience life to the fullest. However, this may have been an experience they could have done without but it will add to repertoire of stories that may forever be retold as the "experience from hell".
Today we are visiting Jerome and perhaps taking a trek over Mingus Mountain to Prescott if our friends are still committed to our viability as a tour guide.
We are back in the mountains of Arizona though our primary location is really in the great Verde Valley and Sedona where the beautiful red rocks confront our view and incite our imagination with beauty and awe.
Tuesday we visited Montezuma's Castle and Montezuma's Well where we paid tribute to the Indians that once roamed the hills and canyons of this area. Montezuma's Castle is but one of many similar remaining reminders of the life of the Indians whose freedom and lifestyle we usurped. However, it is difficult to imagine how hard their life must have been. As one looks upon the remaining facade of the abode called Montezuma's Castle, one is reminded that a "man's home is his castle" and that "home is where the heart is" but truthfully, I had trouble applying either of those "cliches" to the small space carved in the rocks high above the ground. I lack humility, I think.
Wednesday the six of us took the Verde Valley train from Clarkdale along the Verde River through the canyons to Perkinsville where the engines were moved to the back of the train and we made our way back the same route from which we entered. It was a scenic trip through the canyons as eagles soared above us amid visions of fairy tales and historic faces seemingly carved in the cliffs along the route. One would have to spend many hours in obsessive mental imaging to find those visions but fortunately for us, someone had done due diligence.
I must confess to always trying to be on the alert to an opportunity. Upon learning that a time share presentation would provide free first class tickets to the train ride, I talked our friends into an experience that may have severely stressed our friendship, a time share presentation! Our friends, Marvis and Bob, had never experienced the sheer exhaustion of such an undertaking before and upon conclusion of the hell into which I had sacrificed their time, vowed to never attend another. I am sure there is no enticement sufficient to allure them into a repeat experience and I am sure my future recommendations will forever be viewed as suspect. Bob and Kitty had attended time share presentations and thus, were better prepared to "cope" with the hell to which I had subjected them. My thought was that 90 minutes of time was worth the train trip but Marvis is still working and thus, places a higher value on her time than I do on mine as a retired "fixed income" person. I understand Marvis' position and it is not unlike my attitude when I was working and my vacations were sacred. I am not sure that either couple considered the train ride worth the misery of a time share presentation but I wanted our friends to experience life to the fullest. However, this may have been an experience they could have done without but it will add to repertoire of stories that may forever be retold as the "experience from hell".
Today we are visiting Jerome and perhaps taking a trek over Mingus Mountain to Prescott if our friends are still committed to our viability as a tour guide.