Kona Kai Marina
Pelican resting
Bird sculpture
Bike sculpture
Bottlenose Dolphin Sculpture
Kaleidoscope Interactive Sculpture
Historical Maritime Museum Ship
Marlin leaps across the Star of India's bow.
Street performing sculpture jumps
to life as we pass.
Bikes are an important part of San
Diego culture
Pedalcabs cruise the boardwalks along the water.
Mark and I mimic the famous WWII
victory sculpture.
Tourists learn their fortunes from a psychic.
Another street vendor offers parrot
cuddling for donations.
Ahh... I get one of several bird fixes during my San
Diego visit.
San Diego -- what a city!
Beneteaus line the entrance to the boat show.
Yeah, I could live here!
Familiar but a little different than our fifth wheel.
Not bad for living aboard.
An Umbrella Cockatoo peers down at me from a
swaying palm.
Dave takes his cockatoo out for a
fly in the late afternoon.
She loves every minute of her freedom.
Bird of Paradise flower.
Good night fun, vibrant city.
Seaport Village & Boat Show, San Diego, CA
January, 2009 - We snuck away from the Arizona Desert and all the
holiday parties and good cheer and took a quick trip back to San Diego
for the annual January sailboat show. We had had such a good time
there in October (Shelter Island and Mission Bay) that we wondered
if it would still be as nice. Sure enough, as we pulled onto Shelter
Island, all the warm vibes we had felt in this spirited town came back.
It was bright and sunny, warm enough for shorts, and we were
surprised to recognize all the RVs lined up on the waterfront. No one
had left!
We took our place among
them and quickly hopped
on our bikes to check out
all our old favorite haunts.
Not too much had changed
-- Kona Kai Marina was as
graceful as before, the pelicans still roosted and floated, soared and dove as they had
before, and the Navy jets and cruise ships and people walking their dogs and sailboats
criss-crossing the harbor still provided a kaleidoscopic backdrop to life on the
harborfront.
The boat show was way down at the other end of San Diego, and for the first time we
rode our bikes over to Seaport Village. It is a six mile ride along the bike paths and
walking trails, and it brings you all the way around the harbor through the historic Old
Town. This is an outdoor city that comes alive in the sunshine. There is a series of
charming sculptures along this boardwalk. I liked the bird sculpture and Mark liked the
wild-haired cyclist.
There was a lot of whimsy in
these sculptures, and one was
called "Bottlenose Dolphins" and
featured blue glass bottles on the
noses of the dolphins. Another
was a giant kaleidoscope that
had lots of hand cranks and
beautiful colors when you peered
through it.
There is an extensive historical
maritime museum featuring
several ships of different eras
that are tied up at the docks for
tourists to walk through. A
glistening, iridescent statue of a
marlin appeared to leap out of the
waves across the bow of the Star
of India ship behind.
Street performers and vendors of
all kinds line the boardwalks and
grassy areas, giving the city a
friendly, funky air. One
apparently simple silver statue of
a man in a suit suddenly came to
life and made a face at us as we
rode by.
The boardwalks and paths are ideal for biking.
To see it all would make for a very long walk,
but taken slowly on a bike you can enjoy
everything that Old Town and Seaport Village
have to offer. Along with the cycling statue we
saw earlier, there were other sculptural
references to bikes along the boardwalk.
Many tourists opt for a ride in a pedal-cab, and
we passed lots of these energetic cabbies toting
passengers all over the place.
Around one corner we came face
to face with a sculptural
representation of the famed WWII
photo of a sailor kissing a nurse
upon the victory of the Allies. We
couldn't resist mimicking the
smooch, and found a friendly
fellow to take our picture. He and
his large extended family of wife,
kids, parents and others all got a
huge laugh as we tried to get
ourselves situated just right and
asked him to re-take the photo
several times.
If you have something to sell or share with tourists, it
seems that the vending space is available. A psychic
found a lovely spot for her umbrella-shaded table under
a tree, and another man brought out his collection of
parrots for people to play with, in hopes of a donation. I
got my bird fix!
I lived on the Boston waterfront
in a sailboat for four years, but
beautiful as that city is, there is no comparison to San Diego for
warmth of spirit and oceanside magic. San Diego harbor is
completely accessible to everyone. Simply stroll along the water's
edge and you are thrust into the midst of the harbor's vibrant
energy. There are many marinas, and a boat owner can choose
to be situated right among the sky scraping posh hotels downtown,
or over in the more suburban and natural atmosphere of Shelter
Island.
We finally made it to the boat show, our hearts filled with
satisfaction already. As usual, it was a blast. All the boats were
beautiful, and it was easy to dream, along with all the other show-
goers, as we waltzed on and off these lovely yachts. After living in
the confines of a trailer for a 20 months, it was amusing to stand in
each of the boats' cabins and compare the layouts.
Back on Shelter Island we heard the strangest sound coming from the trees. I thought it must
be a young gull that was sick. It was an insistent call, higher pitched than a gull, but with a
similar volume. We walked around the parking lot craning our necks as we stared into the trees.
Then I spotted it -- an Umbrella Cockatoo! She was
clinging to the branches of a palm tree, swinging up and
down, calling out in sheer glee.
I would have been totally stunned to see her there if I
hadn't heard earlier about "The Bird Man" who lived in a
motorhome along the street. We were told he would
sometimes free fly his cockatoo in the late afternoons.
At last we would have a chance to meet him! Dave
showed up on his bike, and after a few minutes his
cockatoo "Bubbi" flew down and landed on his shoulder.
She clucked in his ear and walked down his arm, beak-
by-toe as parrots do, until she was settled on his bike
basket.
I was entranced. I owned two lesser sulphur crested
cockatoos at one time and would have loved to have
given them the freedom of outdoor flight, but I was too
afraid. Dave had no such fear, and his cockatoo
showed off for us for an hour. She swooped from tree
to tree, making impossible landings on swaying
branches that gave her quite a ride as she hung on
with beak and claw, pumping the branches up and
down with powerful flaps of her wings while she
shrieked at the top of the her lungs. A seagull flew by
her at one point and gave her a disapproving stare, but
she didn't care, she was free. Shouldn't we all live that
way.
Our three-day visit for the boat show turned into a 10-day stay. Yet
again, we couldn't tear ourselves away from this enchanting place.
Finally our grey and black water tanks told us it was time to leave, and
we ventured back through Phoenix and on to a cross-country trip to the
It was only after we had been in Florida for a month that we discovered
San DIego had passed a law prohibiting RVs from parking overnight on
Shelter Island. I understand their point -- we met RVers who had lived on
those streets for as much as nine years, and that's not right -- but it is a
shame that such a beautiful city has turned its back on budget RV
travelers who would like to experience its uplifting spirit for a few days or
weeks. It wouldn't have been that hard or that costly to implement a system to monitor and limit RV stays.
Fiery Sunsets and Interesting Folks in the Arizona Desert
Groups mark their territories and gather in the desert
in Quartzsite.
Whiling away the morning making music in the desert.
"Rowdy" of Cutler's Bull & Donkey Show
Quartzsite welcomes
characters of all kinds....
....no dress code required.
People come from all over, any way they can.
I heard a noise and looked out the window to see this
plane land a few feet from our trailer!
The desert pilots fly all manner of craft, but they have
nothing on the natural airborne essence of the
hummingbirds.
Sunrise
Sunset
Classic Sonoran Desert scenery at the White Tanks
mountains west of Phoenix.
The small cholla cactus applaud the silent, serene
performance of the Saguaros.
Water !!
And here it is, about 200 yards from the rock sign that the
ancients carved.
Arizona Deserts
December, 2008 and January 2009 - After Yuma, we stopped in Quartzsite en route to Phoenix for the holidays. This became the
first of a delightful string of reunions with friends and family that filled our winter months, and we returned again in January. As we
first settled into the strange desert living that characterizes boondocking in the Quartzsite BLM land, winter arrived with a
vengeance. The land is ideal for RVs - flat, level, and hard-packed, as if it were paved. But it is very exposed, with only some low
desert scrub brush and the rare saguaro cactus and hummingbird as company. When the wind decides to blow the trailer rocks!
We camped next to our friends Bob & Donna Lea whose 20 years of
experience with winter camping in Arizona's deserts was invaluable as we
tackled the project of installing a new heater. Their warm company made
the chilly, grey days pass very quickly, and we had a chance to compare
our solar setups (see notes at bottom of that page).
Each January, when it plays host to a series of gem shows and the
annual RV show, Quartzsite swells from a truck stop with a few homes
and small
stores to a 120
square mile
parking lot
filled with
retired RVers
from the north
country. RVers gather in groups of all kinds, marking their territory with
signs. "Loners on Wheels," "The Gadabouts," "Escapees Boondockers,"
and manufacturers' rallies fill the desert for miles in every direction. A
paper plate with a couple's names on it and an arrow is enough to signal
friends to a gathering location. There is no reservation system and no
management of these crazed senior citizens, so if you arrive and your
favorite spot is taken, you find another spot.
This year the Montana Owners' rally was the most impressive, even
though they took our friends' preferred spot by their favorite saguaro. The
group drew an enormous circle in the desert floor, and as each rig arrived
it was carefully parked in a spoke pattern around the circle. Some 50
Montana fifth wheels showed up, and
they formed a perfect circle around their
mammoth campfire.
Quartzsite is filled with unusual
characters. As we walked one morning
we passed a couple making music
outside a rig. He had been a
professional musician in his day, and
she was enjoying his pointers and
accompaniment. Another day we were greeted by a
couple that puts on an animal show with their farm
animals in nearby Bouse. They were doing rig-to-rig
advertising as they drove their animals through the
desert and invited people to their show.
Sightings of "rare birds" is common in Quartzsite, and
people watching is great entertainment for everyone.
We visited Paul's Oassis Books
bookstore again, and he was
dressed in his holiday finest.
Seeing Quartzsite out of
season makes you wonder
what would ever draw anyone
to visit this desolate, dusty,
shabby town. But in January
people arrive
from all over,
and the town
comes alive.
We are accustomed to seeing hummingbirds at our trailer window's
feeder, but where else would you peek out your window to see a small
plane land just a few feet away? We got a wave from the pilot when he
took off again!
Not just
Quartzsite's
culture but its
skies come alive
morning and
evening as well.
We were
blessed with
several stunning
sunrises and
sunsets.
I loved the way
the whole desert
sunset scene
would be
reflected in the
rear window of
our trailer.
Between visits
to Quartzsite,
we stopped in
Phoenix for
Christmas. We
took several
wonderful hikes
in the White
Tank mountains
west of the city.
One hike goes to a waterfall that runs
only after a torrential downpour. We were lucky and got a downpour and the waterfall was still
running when we hiked in. I was fascinated to see a rock covered with petroglyphs showing
squiggly horizontal lines. Clearly, the people who lived there a thousand or more years ago
noted the occasional presence of water by pecking out the universally recognized symbol of
water on the rock face.
After the holidays we
snuck back to San Diego
for the January sailboat
show.
Other blog posts from our RV travels to Quartzsite:
- Quartzsite Lite (2022) 03/26/22
- What’s It Like to RV in Quartzsite AZ? Anything Goes! 02/02/16
- Quartzsite RV Show – RV Stuff and So Much More! 01/30/16
- Quartzsite, Arizona – The RV Gathering Place 01/26/16
- The RV Show in Quartzsite AZ – More Than Just RVs! 02/07/15
- Sunset over RVs in Quartzsite AZ 01/24/15
- Quartzsite Arizona – RV Madness in the Desert! 01/21/15
- Fiery Sunsets and Interesting Folks in the Arizona Desert 01/15/09
- Quartzsite, AZ – Snowbird Roost 12/05/07
Our most recent posts:
- Buckskin Mountain State Park – Fun on the Colorado River! 01/31/26
- How to Install Starlink Gen 3 in an RV? Use the Speedmount! 08/07/25
- Escape to Paradise – Rocky Mountain Magic! 08/01/25
- Is Forest River a Good RV? Well Built? Here’s Our Experience 06/20/25
- Sunset Crater Nat’l Monument – Lava & Camels at Bonito CG! 06/06/25
More of our Latest Posts are in the MENU.
New to this site? Visit RVers Start Here to find where we keep all the good stuff!!
Yuma, AZ – Prisons and Balloons
A developer's palm tree lined neighborhood street.
The homes were never built.
A Salton Sea inlet where there once was an RV park.
Long Fall shadows from our legs and a
walking stick. Winter was coming.
The landscape of a mixed green salad
Yuma is the capital of leafy greens.
Lakeside in Yuma
Redondo Lake Boondocking
The dust storms are like blizzard white-outs
The morning greeted us with a spectacular sunrise
Steaming tea
Cheery moment - a sailboat passes through
Yuma en route to San Diego
Fantastic adobe houses with brightly glazed tiles
Old Town Yuma
The "Coolest Bar Downtown"
An old-time restaurant
loaded with antiques
and memorabilia
Owner-Operator-
Chef-Musician
Colorado River Crossing Balloon Festival
Heating up the balloon
Keeping the basket grounded
Balloons of all kinds
The Balloon Glow
Yuma Territorial Prison
Prison Guard
Cell block. No one ever escaped from these cells.
Double doors for each
cell
9' x 12' and 6 to a cell
Hike to the Towers
Yuma Lakes RV Park, submerged!
Yuma, Arizona
November 1-30, 2008 - We left San Diego in high spirits, the memories of the fog horns, the salt air, the fresh sailing breezes and
warm air still filling our senses. So it was quite a shock when we climbed the mountains to the east on I-8 and had to brace
ourselves against a nasty wind storm that forced us under way too many blankets at night while the heater ran full blast. We were
in denial about winter coming, and it was a relief when the storm passed and the California deserts at the base of the mountains
warmed us up again. We stopped near Salton City for a few days, and heard the sad tale of the sadly exploited Salton Sea.
Salton Sea - lost treasure
The Sea was once a playground, filled with fish and boats and laughing
kids throwing sticks in the water for their dogs. Sadly, now the beaches
are layered in dead fish on thick beds of bleached non-native barnacle
shells. We rode our bikes through virtual ghost towns along this huge
inland salt lake's shoreline. Palm trees lined would-be neighborhood
streets amid developers' evaporated dreams. Half-built homes had long
ago given up hope for windows and siding, and their yawning open frames
were a stark contrast to the beautiful mountain, beach and waterfront
backdrop.
All are victims
of pesticide
runoff from
adjacent farmlands and
ever-rising salinity
caused by the Sea's
constant evporation.
Former picnic areas, RV
parks, tiki bars and
housing stand vacant,
disintegrating and
forlorn, longing for the
return of ecologically
healthier times that may
never come. The only life is huge flocks of pelicans and ibis that feast on the sole
surviving fish, a tiny non-native species. After talking at length with several long-
time residents about this miserable state of affairs, we moved on, our spirits badly
deflated.
Yuma: desert + water = produce
We went to Yuma, Arizona, hoping for sunlight and some good cycling.
We found both, along with a great place to camp near a small lake along
the edge of vast farmlands. This corner of the world is rich in lettuce,
kale, spinach and other leafy greens.
We hooked up
with Yuma's
Foothills Bike
Club and did
several terrific
rides with
them, getting to
know the back
roads and canal banks around town. Yuma is blistering hot in the
summer but comes to life each winter as residents of the northern states
and provinces arrive in flocks during their annual "snowbird" migration.
Most people we met around town lived in an RV, and there was a festive
air everywhere as old friends arrived and got together again.
One morning we awoke to a spectacular sunrise, but "red sky at morning"
proved true as an amazing wind storm blew into town. The dust swirled until
you couldn't see, making white-out blizzard-like conditions on the roads. The
temperature dropped
and suddenly we were
thrust into winter for
several days. Suddenly
we were drinking
copious cups of hot tea
and taking long turns
over the heat vents to
warm our bones.
We had left San Diego
just a week or so ago, yet all that summertime fun was
quickly fading into a beautiful, distant memory. Sigh.
Winter is not our favorite season. Even in Arizona it is just
too darned cold for too long!
We cheered up immensely one afternoon when we found
ourselves in traffic behind a yacht hauler taking a brand new
boat from Florida to a dealership in San Diego. How ironic that
this very same dealership had taken us on a "test sail" of this
very same boat model just a few weeks ago.
Yuma's Old Town
Yuma has a lot of history, and we spent some
happy afternoons wandering around the Old Town
district. Most of the buildings, dating from 100
years or so ago, are made of adobe brick, so the
walls are enormously thick.
Many are decorated with pretty, brightly
colored, glazed tile, and we learned that
this is "Anglicized Sonoran" architecture.
We wandered down some stairs and
found ourselves in the middle of The
Garden Restaurant, a charming little spot
with tables on many levels, overhanging
branches offering colorful flowers and shade, and birds of
all types singing and squawking in cages along the
perimeter.
In winter especially, this is definitely an outdoor
community, with lots of little boutiques for shopping.
We saw the outside of the "Coolest Bar Downtown" but went
inside the famed Lutes Casino where antiques, memorabilia and
goodies from another era fill the restaurant from floor to ceiling.
A popular hangout for marines from the nearby Air Station, Lutes
has a display with a letter from a homesick marine in Desert
Storm who wrote longingly of how one of their "especial" dinners
(a hot dog and a hamburger) would taste so good right about
now...
As we started to turn back towards the parked truck
we heard the most amazing electric guitar riffs in the
distance. Someone was having fun -- either
listening to something very loud or playing loudly
himself. We followed the sounds to the Mustard Seed Restaurant. The door
was propped open, and a musical firestorm filled our ears as we poked our
heads inside. A young fellow was playing his heart out. He stopped when he
saw us and introduced himself as the Owner-Operator-Chef of the restaurant.
"I'm just checking out the sound system. Come back tonight at 9:00 and I'll be
jamming with some friends."
Balloon Festival
Yuma hosts the Colorado River Crossing Balloon
Festival each year, and we went to the fairgrounds to
see the Balloon Glow one evening. One by one, at
least 25 balloons were laid out on the grass and filled
with hot air.
Balloon teams come to Yuma from all over for this festival, and each team expertly
raised their balloon to vertical and kept its basket tied to the ground so it wouldn't
float off.
There were traditional balloon shapes, a few with advertisers' names displayed, and
even one lady bug balloon.
As the sun set the spectators streamed in and the glow
began. An announcer would get the balloonists to
coordinate their flame blasts so that all the balloons would
light up together. The balloons can't take the hot air for
too long at a time, or they will try to float away,
so the balloons would glow together for just a
few moments and then go dark to cool down.
There were two balloon launches during the weekend as
well, but they required getting up and driving a long ways
before dawn, and both mornings we opted to stay in our
warm bed with the down comforters pulled over our heads.
Yuma Territorial Prison
Back when Arizona was young -- in
1876 when it was just a territory and
not yet a state -- it became home to
the Territorial Prison. Arizona
distributed its various government
responsibilities between the three major
settlements: Phoenix vied for the eventual
state capitol, Tucson nourished the seedling
public university, and Yuma got the prison.
This shaped the future state's personality:
Phoenix is the hub of commerce, Tucson is
the cultural mecca, and Yuma, well, Yuma
gave the prison to Florence in 1909 and
concentrated on agriculture and winter visitors.
This prison was nicknamed "The Hellhole of the West." Out of ~3,000
prisoners only 26 ever escaped from the cell blocks. No wonder: the cells
were steel cages covered with granite, and
each cell had a double door. The first
prisoners had the privilege of building the
prison before moving in, which reminded me
of New Hampshire's modern day inmates
stamping out license plates with the motto
"Live Free or Die."
Each cell had six bunks, but as the years
went by they sometimes had to house more
than six men. The single, shared chamber
pot was emptied once a day. Bedbugs
lived in the wooden bunks and ate the
prisoners raw until the wooden bunks
were finally burned and replaced with
steel. There was a "dark cell" that offered solitary confinement for disruptive prisoners. We crept
into this pitch black hole that had housed a 5'x5' steel cage where prisoners spent anywhere from
one to over 100 nights. The only light came from a tiny shaft above. No chamber pot here: the
floor of the cage was cleaned every few months. Yikes. Several women were rewarded for their
bad behavior with a stint in the dark cell too.
Hikes and Walks
There are pretty hikes in the hills around Yuma, and we ventured up a
very steep hill one morning to get a commanding view of the farmlands
and city.
Winter pressed on as November drew to a close, and we were deluged
with two days of torrential rain. Nearby Yuma
Lakes RV Park became submerged, and the
reflections of the rigs in the standing water made
some colorful photos on our daily walks.
We stayed in Yuma for all of November, 2008, slowly adjusting to the fact that
winter was here and wasn't going to leave any time soon. We got word from
friends we had met last year in Quartzsite that they were returning, so we
finally packed up and made the short trek north to one of the world's oddest
temporary communities: the BLM land surrounding the truck-stop town of
Quartzsite, Arizona. For the next two months we hovered in and around
San Diego – Laid Back Mission Bay
A sailboat heads out of Mission Bay to the open ocean
Bird of Paradise in Mission Bay
Tranquility and peace reign at
Mission Bay
Cycling the paths along the Mission Bay beach villas
Mission Beach cottages open onto the wide sandy beach
Charming beach houses line the boardwalk
Pacific Beach - kite-boarding paradise.
Surf shops.
Anyone can learn to surf here, though the buff bod
may be harder to achieve.
SoCal is truly laid back
A modern day Jesus Freak?
Any smaller, older RV will do.
Jerry relaxes in the back of his toy hauler.
Horses cool their hooves along the beaches at Fiesta
Island
Life's a Beach on Fiesta Island
Hotel del Coronado.
Mission Bay, San Diego, CA
October 1-28, 2008 - A few times during our stay in San Diego, we
moved our RV from Shelter Island to Mission Bay. We (and at least 50
other RVs) were doing the "San Diego Shuffle," moving our rigs around
on the city's waterfront streets to stay in line with California's 72-hour
parking law. As long as we all moved every three days, we could enjoy
the many delights of this beautiful city and gaze at prime multi-million
dollar waterfront views right outside our doors.
The serenity
of Mission Bay
is a dramatic
contrast to the
hustle and
bustle of Shelter Island. Also manmade, from sand dredged out of San
Diego Harbor, Mission Bay is a series of waterways through former
mudflats, with the land forming quasi-islands and little peninsulas. The
manicured grass lawns along the bay are largely city parks, and there
are many children's playgrounds, picnic areas and even large bonfire
rings along the beaches. The tall palms and sparkling water offer a calm
retreat from downtown San Diego.
The walking and bicycling paths go on for miles, and we had many happy bike rides in and
around the bay and along Mission Beach. There are endless charming beachfront villas on both
the placid bay side and on the surfing beach side. Each home is unique, and they line up cheek-
by-jowel, with patios and porches facing the lovely views. Most are available as vacation rentals.
We rode our bikes along the Mission
Beach boardwalk up as far as Pacific
Beach, making the transparent
transition from one miles-long
expanse of sandy beach to the next.
Pacific Beach was teaming with
people kite-boarding. Each had a
huge parachute, and they used the
wind to skim across the ocean on their
surfboards.
Surfing is a beloved passtime in this area, and we saw surf shops,
surfers and surfer dudes that were right out of a Beach Boys song.
Sea World is tucked into one corner of the Bay, and bike rentals and
people on
bikes were everywhere.
This is a very laidback
area, where surf, sun,
sand and beach bars all
come together in a
dreamy combination. As
we drove one afternoon,
we passed a young
fellow playing his guitar
while he rode his bike.
Not too much stress
there! Others just rolled
along the sidewalk on
beach cruisers.
The best way to enjoy San Diego is to have a
lot of money (for a pretty multi-million dollar
beach bungalow, a convertible roadster and a
yacht) and to have a lot of time to enjoy them
(i.e., no job). Most people we saw seemed to
have either one or the other.
This can be an eclectic crowd too. We saw a
strangely painted car, several perfectly
restored Microbuses, and an odd collection of
RVs.
In Mission Bay, the older the RV, it seems, the better. The
shapes of some are from a long distant era, while others are
clearly homemade.
The "San Diego Shuffle" of RVs moving from one parking
space to another is actually something of a two-step in
Mission Bay, as parking is prohibited between 2:00 a.m. and 4:00 a.m. Each evening a parade of RVs makes its way
out of the Mission Bay parking areas into the industrial city streets on the far side of the freeway. Early each morning
the RVs return, many to the same spot they had the day before.
The best setup we saw was Jerry's. He towed his toyhauler "office"
trailer behind his Class C motorhome, and on lazy afternoons he would
string up a hammock inside his "office" trailer, taking in the view of the
Bay from his swing.
The stories of each household living in their RV were
varied, but a common concern was the upcoming city vote
on whether to override the California law and ban overnight
parking on public streets. The days of this urban RV lifestyle of freedom on the waterfront may be
numbered. The vote was held on our last day in the city, and we didn't hear the outcome.
One day we parked our trailer out on Fiesta Island, a tiny dot of California desert perched in the middle of
the Mission Bay. The dry, brown, tumbleweed land is sparsely visited, and we had a stretch of beach all
to ourselves. As we sat there enjoying the view of the homes across the water, a group of horses
suddenly appeared, splashing in the water as they walked.
The weather was unusually warm
for October (90's), and we spent
much of the month in tank tops
and shorts. A visit to Coronado
Beach offered delicious relief from the heat one afternoon, and we
played in the sand and waves. On a return visit we discovered the
history and beauty of the Victorian Hotel del Coronado that presides
over one end of the beach.
After a month of coastal pleasures,
we felt a little nip in the air as the
fog banks crept in and stayed
longer and longer each morning. It
was time to move on, and we
headed inland to the California
desert of Anza-Borrego. But the
temps were falling fast, and we
continued on to the warmest of the
southwestern desert areas in
San Diego – Shelter Island = Boater’s Paradise
San Diego view out our front door.
Boats anchored right off the shore
RVs line up for the San Diego Shuffle
RVs enjoy a multimillion dollar view of the city skyline
Walking paths wander the shoreline of Shelter Island
Hammock in the rigging on a festive schooner.
Boats of all kinds slip by in the bay
Wildlife is everywhere
A local sport fisherman shows off the shark he caught
before returning it to the sea.
The seals rule the roost, lounging
around all day and barking as the
sun goes down.
Shoreline overlooking the marinas
Shelter Island Marina is teaming with boats.
Peaceful Sunday morning at Shelter Island
Stephen Mann & Kathleen Torres show their round-
the-world route on a transparent globe.
"Tawodi" will take them across the Southern Ocean.
The gate to the Mega Yacht Dock at Kona Kai Marina
This gorgeous 113' wooden schooner on the
Mega Yacht Dock has been round the world 3 times.
The perfectly named "Cream Puff"
Jeff (Cap'n Hook), one of the many salty characters
on the docks
Cruise ship leaves for points south from San Diego Harbor
Mark takes the helm
This little car zipped by us on the water.
Exotic sports car gathering
Art shows every weekend
The sky turns to fire in the dreamy San Diego twilight.
Peace
Shelter Island, San Diego, CA
October 1-28, 2008 - Leaving cool, high elevation Pioche, NV in mid-September, we
attended Interbike, the annual bicycle industry tradeshow, in Las Vegas (a red-hot oven at
this time of year). From there, we skipped west across the sizzling California deserts like
kids with bare feet leaping across hot sand. Emerging at the coast in San Diego, we were
greeted with delightful cool breezes, sparkling blue waves, lush green grass and bright
sunny days. September, 2008, had gone down in history as a stunning month for the
financial markets, but we will always remember it as an energy-charged, unscripted month
of exciting travels that was unusual only in its heartwarming normalcy in this full-time travel
lifestyle. I felt moved enough to describe it in What's It Like?
We discovered that California
law allows vehicles to park in
one spot on public streets for
up to 72 hours, so we bellied up
to the shoreline with all the
other RVs on San Diego's
Shelter Island. Parked just
steps from the harbor, we had
an everchanging view of sailboats, joggers, family parties, picnics, Navy
ships, cruise ships, war planes and gatherings of all kinds in the
shoreside city park, all laid out across the backdrop of the San Diego
skyline, right outside our front door. As one neighbor in an RV near us
said, "This is Paradise."
Shelter Island is a manmade island created from dredged sand in the harbor. Years ago the people of San Diego wanted this
island to become a recreation area for everyone, and today it is a bustling boat-oriented community framed by a glorious grassy
park. There is a playground, fishing pier and boat launch on the waterfront. Yacht brokers, chandleries, boat yards, swank
restaurants, an outdoor music venue and cute bistros line the streets. The boats bob at anchor almost within arm's reach, and the
RVs line up along the shore. Both the boats and RVs must keeping changing anchorages and parking spots if they wish to stay
more than three days. As we moved around the island, swapping places with our neighbors, I took to calling this dance of the RV
fulltimers and boating liveaboards the "San Diego Shuffle."
The park is defined by the pretty walking paths that wander along the
shore. From early morning till late evening these paths are filled with
locals and visitors alike: dog walkers; iPod-entranced joggers; hand-
holding lovers of all ages; young moms pushing baby strollers and old
folks pushing their rolling walkers. Families come to the shoreside park
on weekends to host all day picnics, setting up tents and barbecues and
roasting marshmallows over their beach bonfires at night. We witnessed
birthday parties, weddings and family reunions during our stay there.
The activity on the
water dominates
the scene. Boats
of every description
ghost by. In the
background there is
the constant hum of
helicopters hovering
at the Navy base
across the water.
Every so often the
world stops and the
air crackles with the
earsplitting roar of a
Navy jet taking off.
Wildlife
abounds.
Seagull cries fill
the air during
the day, and
when the gulls
finally quiet
down to roost,
the seals take
up an
incessant
barking.
The harbor
seals' barks and coughs and wheezes sound almost human, and when
one pokes his head out of the water behind you during a morning swim, snorting and
gasping, you could swear it was a person in the water. One afternoon there was a hubub
down at the fishing jetty. A sport fisherman had landed a small shark. A crowd formed as
he laid out his prize to measure it and take photos. His dog was as eager as he was proud.
When he finally returned the shark to the sea, the dog paced and cried in total
bewilderment.
There are several marinas in the
totally protected waters on the
back side of the island. We
wandered down to the docks
many times to enjoy the pretty
views and watch the busy
activities of the boaters. The
number of boats is staggering.
Looking across the acres and
acres of masts piercing the sky, I
was reminded of a giant pin
cushion.
We stopped in at West Marine one
afternoon, and a couple was hosting
a barbecue in the parking lot to raise
money for their upcoming round-the-
world cruise. We bought a hot dog to
support their cause, and listened to
their story.
With his own hands, Stephen Mann
had transformed a 39' sailboat with a
transoceanic racing pedigree into the
vessel of his dreams. He had
lengthened the bow 3', installed
oodles of electronics for navigation,
and built a stainless steel arch to
support solar panels and wind
generators.
He and his girlfriend Kathleen Torres
were leaving in a week to sail around
the world via the Southern Ocean,
with hopes to complete the trip in 8-9
months. To put their plans in
perspective, most circumnavigators
take 2-5 years to go around the
world, and most do it via the tropical
oceans. These intrepid sailors were
going to tackle the world's worst
oceans below South America and
Africa, rounding Cape Horn. They
planned to stop on land just 5 times during their trip. They invited us to
an "open boat" the following evening, and we eagerly attended.
The boat was small, but rugged, and they were very excited to get
underway. I love adventure, but I'm nowhere near as daring as they are.
After the party, they discovered a part in the engine drive-shaft was
faulty, which delayed their departure by a week. But they finally sailed off
into the sunset. Keep abreast of their travels at www.svtawodi.com/
log.
The Kona Kai Marina is a very upscale place that caters to the world's
wealthiest on their Mega Yacht Dock. One evening we noticed that the
very formidable gate to the dock had been propped open. In we went!!
We heard loud voices and laughter coming from a beautiful wooden
schooner that had pulled in that afternoon, and when we came upon their
boatside barbecue party they welcomed us in.
The crew of five had just sailed the 113' boat down from Alaska, where
they had been surrounded by orcas, swimming bears, and glaciers.
This boat, built in Italy in 1980, had circumnavigated the world three
times, providing its owners with a posh pad for fly-in visits to exotic
locales around the world. Hailing from several different English speaking
countries, the fulltime crew was in great spirits as they stayed in San
Diego for a few weeks to touch up the already glistening woodwork. The
owners visit their yacht for just a few weeks at a time, while the crew
keeps it in tip-top shape, sailing to the destinations of the owner's
dreams on demand. When we asked the captain what his worst
passage was, he said it was a 26-day passage where they encountered
a storm with sustained 60+ knot winds and 60' seas that lashed the boat
for 6 straight days. "It was a lot of work." He said. How would the
couple on Tawodi fare in a storm like that in their boat which was less
than half the size with less than half the crew?
The next dock down from the Mega Yacht Dock is the Transient Dock where arriving boats can tie up
for a few days while they get situated for their San Diego visit. This is a great place to meet people
from all over the world: a South African taking his newly acquired boat to New Zealand, a Canadian
family with small children heading to Mexico, a Washington couple heading to the Caribbean on
their catamaran, and the 80+ year old owner of "Cream Puff," a floating disaster of a boat that he
has called home for over 50 years.
There are plenty of salty characters on
this dock too, including Jeff, who has a
mean Right Hook. He waved his hooked
right hand for a photo and told us some
of the history of the delicate relations
between the liveaboards and the harbor
authorities in San Diego. Those boaters
call their boats home, but unlike the
transients who arrive in San Diego from
distant lands, the local
liveaboards never leave the
protected confines of the
harbor.
Perhaps the easiest way to
see the world from the deck of a ship is to take a cruise. Two cruise ships arrived and
left the harbor everyday. At 5:15 one morning a cruise ship arrived in dense fog. He
blared a long extended blast on his foghorn once every two minutes for the entire hour
it took him to get from the harbor entrance to his pier downtown. It sure woke us up,
but what about all those weary cruisers on the ship who were back from a week's
vacation in paradise?
We were blessed with four
opportunities to get out sailing
ourselves. The atmosphere on
Shelter Island is extremely friendly,
and as we met new friends we
suddenly found ourselves the lucky
recipients of some sailing invitations.
There are all kinds of boats out on the
harbor, and a little car whizzed by us
as we sailed.
Back on Shelter Island,
we came across an
exotic sports car club
having an outing one
day.
Tiny Italian sports cars of all types lined up in the parking lot,
roared their engines for a moment, and took off on a driving tour.
One unfortunate Ferrari owner couldn't get his car started. No
worries. We overheard him tell a buddy he'd just have someone
take it away on a flatbed truck while he went home and got his
Lamborghini instead!
The beauty of Shelter Island is the great diversity of activities. If
exotic sports cars don't grab your interest, perhaps an art show
in the park will.
In the midst of this
continuous excitement and
stimulation, Shelter Island
offers many tranquil places to
enjoy a quiet moment. The
shore along the marina docks
is beautifully landscaped, with
lots of benches where we
would pause and reflect on all
we'd seen.
While we were on the island,
the Baja Ha-Ha began. This is
an annual sailboat rally of 150 sailboats that
heads out of San Diego to Cabo San Lucas,
Mexico at the end of October.
It is a 10-day, 750 mile sail with two stops along
the way, and the party-filled atmosphere takes
some of the edge off of doing such a long open
ocean passage by boat. Once in Cabo, the sailors disperse, some heading out to the South Pacific, some
transiting the Panama Canal to go to the Caribbean, and some staying in Mexican waters. Throughout October
the transient docks and anchorages in San Diego begin to fill with boats arriving from all points north to take part
in this rally.
We attended their kick-off barbecue, a wild Halloween costume party with prizes, raffles and giveaways. I felt like
I was at a pirate frat party. Almost everyone came dressed as a pirate, and the pavement was sticky with spilled
beer. Laughter filled the air, and a DJ kept us all dancing, Next day we joined our new friends Gary and Karen
aboard their beautiful Hallberg-Rassey and sailed among the Ha-Ha crowd, listening to their roll call on the VHF
radio, until their colorful spinnakers disappeared to the south.
Every so often we crept away from the action on Shelter Island for a change of pace on Mission Bay.
Kanab & Alton, UT – Whoa!!!
Kanab and Alton, Utah
July 15-19 (and again August 21-26, 2008) - We left the cool pine
woods of the North Rim of the Grand Canyon in Arizona, and
descended into the flat, hot desert floor of Utah to the north. Kanab,
Utah, is the only town of any size (pop. 3,800) between several
national parks: Grand Canyon, Zion, Bryce Canyon and Grand
Staircase Escalante.
It is a charming community tucked up against a row of red
rock mountains. At this time of year the town is loaded with
rental RVs and foreignors. Groups of Europeans were
caravaning in their rental RVs, hanging the flags of their
homelands off their radio antennas and in the back windows.
Our weeks in the woods at
the North Rim had emptied
our shelves completely, so
we stayed for a few days to
replenish everything. We
were fortunate that the
monsoons were still very
active. Even though Kanab is
at 4,900 feet elevation, it was
blazing hot in the sunshine.
The cloud cover and
downpours in the
afternoons kept us
from sweltering.
Kanab's city park
features beautiful
gardens and a brand
new huge swimming
pool and water slide
that was packed to the
gills with happy kids all
day. While we strolled among the flowers, the park's longtime caretaker
described the boisterous family fun of the Mormon Pioneer Days that are
celebrated with an enormous city-wide barbecue in the park's barbecue pit.
Hundred of kids and families spread out on the grass on the July 24th
weekend to celebrate the unique heritage of the Mormons who settled
Utah with great purpose in the mid-1800's.
Behind the park, Squaw
Trail climbs up a canyon
to heights way above the
city, passing steep red
rock walls along the way.
We clambered up the trail,
shouting "hello" at the
tops of our lungs as the
trail took us ever deeper
into the canyon. I have
never heard such a
perfect echo with such a long time delay. As we
shouted, it was as though the canyon walls were
shouting back at us, each word enunciated with
absolute clarity.
The bird's eye view of Kanab from the top of the
cliffs was worth the sweat we lost getting there. We
had often hiked similar trails around Phoenix in the
olden days, but this trail was unique because it was
utterly quiet. We didn't pass one other person on
the entire trail. From the top of the mountain we
could hear the town's internal workings below: a
tractor in a distant field, a motorcycle rumbling down
the main street, kids playing ball in a back yard.
The air around us was perfectly still, and these quiet
murmurs from the town's streets drifted slowly up to
us on sun-drenched air currents.
The rocks were every
shade of orange and
red. Some faces were
rainbow streaked, with
stripes formed over the
ages, offering a full
array of orange-hued
swirls and bands. As
we climbed back down,
we found furnace-hot
rock faces were now
baking the spots where
there had been cool
shade during our ascent. The beauty filled our senses, but this red rock
desert environment is unforgivingly harsh in the sun.
The road leading north
out of Kanab is
stunning, without being
showy. Crowded in
among tourists and
locals hurrying along
this busy stretch of
road, I caught myself
gaping at the exotic
cliffs that lined its
edges.
Over eons, the darker hues of
some red rocks have dripped
lazily down the lighter colored
cliffs, leaving dribbled stains on
the rock face like an old paint can.
August 21, 2008 - We saw a small
road on the map leading away
from the highway to a dot marked
"Alton." Accepting this open
invitation into the hinterlands, we
hoped no cars would want to
share the one-lane road with our
behemoth truck and trailer as we
approached the town. We arrived
unscathed, but found ourselves
hopping out of the truck each time
the power lines crossed the road,
worried that the buggy would snag its
roof on the low-hanging wires.
Tucked away, far from anything, amid
farmlands that stretch as far as the
eye can see, this picturesque tiny
town charmed us with its "Whoa" stop
signs and warm welcome from
people working in their yards.
We asked a man in a cowboy hat
where we might find a place to park
for the night, and he suggested the town hall parking lot. "Really?" we asked. "I'm the mayor,
and it's okay with me!" Another fellow, Paul, set his shovel aside for over an hour to chat with us
about the town and its history. He told us the mayor, Claren Heaton, was the great-grandson of
the town's founder, and that the name of the town was drawn from a hat, back in 1908, by two-
year-old Gwen Heaton, as the citizens of the new town looked on.
He said it is not unusual to see a horse
strolling down the street, and that no one
minds. With just 134 people in town,
there's no such thing as a strange face,
human or equine. 100% of the citizens
are Mormon, he said, adding, "probably
80% are related to each other too."
As we talked, Paul's fifth cousin three
times removed, Victor, pulled up. He
parked his truck in the middle of the
road to join our conversation. We
were on the main drag, and Mark and
I looked up nervously when a truck
approached in the distance. Paul and
Victor laughed and assured us there was no need to move: the truck would go around us.
We watched in amazement as the man in the truck, marked "Sheriff," waved "hello" to our
little group, and then drove off the road into the dirt to get past.
We rode our bikes throughout
the town, utterly delighted with
the prettiness and happiness of
this little community. We eagerly
jumped off the bikes every few
minutes to snap pictures.
Without being backward or old
fashioned, this miniscule hamlet
seemed untouched by the rest
of the world, living in peace, and
removed from time.
So we had to laugh when we discovered we had a wi-fi signal in the trailer.
But the joke was on us. Mark popped off an email to his cousin, describing this wonderful town we'd discovered. Almost instantly,
he received a reply, complete with a link to the Alton, Utah, website showing the long line of Claren Heatons' ancestors that had
been mayors of the town before him. Mark's cousin also included a link to Alton's satellite photo on Google Earth, detailed enough
to see the shed next to where we were parked.
At peace, yes. Removed from time, perhaps. Out of touch, hardly!
We spent the summer of 2008 bebopping around southern Utah. Two of our most heartwarming experiences were the
discoveries of two unusual Utah animal sanctuaries: Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, a no-kill domestic animal sanctuary in
stunning Angel Canyon and the Southwest Wildlife Foundation which rehabilitates and reintroduces native fauna.
Parowan UT – Vermillion Castle and County Fair
We learned the "Vermillion Castles"
are not man-made
Yankee Meadows Reservoir in Parowan Canyon
A split rail fence lines the reservoir
One couple we met ate fresh-caught trout every night
Our epic ride up 2nd Left Hand Rd was challenging
Finally, we made it to the top
The Iron County Fair had something for everyone
Lots of thrills for young and old
Mark discovered the Rodeo Royalty
Nearby, the youngest crowd got to test the
driver's seat for the first time
The older "kids" showed off the muscle cars of their youth
Parowan, Utah: A Vermillion Castle and County Fair
August 26 - September 5, 2008 - After
visiting Kanab and Alton, UT, on the
eastern side of the mountains, we made the
heart-stopping climb and descent into Cedar
City and went on up the interstate to
Parowan. We had heard there was great
boondocking somewhere in Parowan
Canyon but I couldn't figure out quite where
it was on the map. We stopped in the
Visitors Center to get some help, and
discovered the town was hosting the fun-
filled Iron County Fair over Labor Day
weekend in just a few days. Whie I was busy studying the maps and local photos of the
canyon to get my bearings, I barely noticed Mark saying, "Hey, there's a 5K race on Labor
Day. Wanna do it?!" I must have muttered something that sounded like agreement,
because the next thing I knew Mark had filled out the race forms and was reaching in his
wallet for the entry fee.
Part of my confusion about the
Parowan Canyon roads was that I
thought the "Vermillion Castle"
landmark would be a building -- a real castle! Instead, it was a series of
red rock spires. Also, we soon learned that although everyone in the
area knew exactly where Second Left Hand Road was located, there
was no road sign to help visitors find its tree limb-shrouded entrance.
We camped at
the top of the
canyon in a
scenic meadow
surrounded by
mountains.
One day we got the crazy idea to ride our bikes down 3,000 feet
into Parowan on paved First Left Hand Road and then climb back
up on the gravel 4x4 Second Left Hand Road. The mere 16 miles
took us well over two hours, and we were pooped when we got to
the top. I kept looking at my bike's odometer and telling myself, "3
mph is a very respectable speed!" The views of Yankee Meadows
Reservoir at the top were well worth the effort, and we heard from
several sources that the fishing in the reservoir was excellent.
The Iron County Fair was a classic small town fair, and we wished we
had our little granddaughters with us. As the mayor said to us days later
when we met him walking down Main Street, "It is a little piece of
Americana." Attendance was much higher than in past years, perhaps
because people were staying home to save gas money. The rides were
packed, the kettle corn was delicious, and there were events and prizes
for everything imagineable.
There was live
music and a vast display of beautifully crafted artworks, from crocheted
booties, to finely made quilts, to an elegant wedding dress, to Lego pirate
ships built by the kids, to pies, jams and cookies of all types, to
photographs of everything under the sun. Blue ribbons abounded, and
they were all well deserved.
As we wandered the
fairgrounds, we met all
kinds of characters.
We are learning to be a
little more brazen in
taking photographs of
the fun people we
meet, and Mark
captured the fair's clowns, both two-
legged and four-legged, while I captured
Mark basking in the glow of the Rodeo
princesses, queens and attendants.
The horseshoe championships were hotly contested, with
professionals stepping up to expert throws, and the area was filled
with smiling people of all ages. The tractor display showed farm
equipment of all types from an earlier age. Mark spotted one built
when he was born in 1954 while another fellow noted one
built in his birth year, 1939. We had lunch with the tractor
drivers, learning a little about that hobby while we munched
pizza, and we got to know Red, Basil and Alden, each of
whom we had either seen around town in previous days or
spent time with in the weeks following the fair.
There was a long train for
the toddlers that snaked
endlessly around the
fairgrounds. The kids
alternated between
grinning with delight and
frowning in concentration
as they turned their
steering wheels around
each corner. There were
cries everywhere of
"Mommy, can I ride in that?" Meanwhile, the dads were busy admiring the muscle
cars on display, hoods up, chrome polished, each restored with loving care.
The fair went on for
three days, and we
returned on Labor
Day itself to watch
the parade down
Main Street. There
were floats, dance
teams, horses, fire
engines, the Rodeo
Royalty on
horseback, local
politicians and candy and toothbrushes
thrown into the crowd. Parowan is the heart of Mormon Pioneer history, as it was the first
community settled, even before Salt Lake, and several floats made proud reference to
that heritage.
We left the fair contented and smiling. It had been a perfect day and weekend, the best
Labor Day that either of us could remember. And -- oh yes -- we each placed 2nd in our
age group in the running race, and paid the price with sore joints for a few days
afterwards!
We recovered from our race in Cedar City where we watched the Great American
Stampede Horse Parade (some pics and notes on our "What's It Like?" page), and then
we made our way on to Pioche, Nevada, which felt to us like the true heart of the Wild
Wild West.
Pioche & Cathedral Gorge, NV – The Wild West
Silver ore bucket tramway
Miner's shack
Looking up Main Street
The opera house, restored, and movie theater, waiting
Looking up Main Street
Antiques are everywhere
Lots of whimsy in this town
Overland Hotel
Million Dollar Courthouse
Short walk from the courthouse to
the jailhouse
Front door to the jailhouse
Jail cells
The court library was used until
1972. It contains all of Nevada's
law books through that year.
Cathedral Gorge
Cathedral Caves - very narrow and
chilly inside
The sky is way up there
View through the top of the caves
Spires near Cathedral Caves
This land suggests another world
Cathedral Gorge - reminiscent of Utah's red rocks
A little bit of desert heaven on earth
The park service makes this an
easy hike with handy stairways
Not too far to climb out...
Pioche, Nevada
September 11-18, 2008 - We finally pried ourselves away from Parowan and Cedar City, Utah, and
their delightful fall fairs, and made our way over the border into Nevada. We stopped at the mining
town of Pioche, and liked it so much we stayed for a week. As we pulled into town, the first thing we
noticed was the unusual tramway that ran from the hills down towards the valley. We followed the tram
line through this crazy, steep hillside town to its origination point, and a fellow painting a house nearby
told us some of its history. It had been used for hauling silver ore from the mine to the processing area
until 103 years ago when the mine shut down.
His great-grandfather had been a miner, and
he said that if we wanted to hear more stories
about the town and his ancestors we could
find him every afternoon at the saloon on
Main Street!
The streets of Pioche are a living history. A
placard describing the brutality of the mining life was hung outside an
original miner's shack, and we cautiously opened the door to find the
interior just as a miner would have left it, complete with table, utensils,
stove, trunk and bed. Dusty, cramped and shabby, the 9'x9' room was
the real deal. There are ruins of miner's shacks like this in several places
in town, some still standing and others toppled over by time.
Further up the street we
found the Opera House,
restored, and next to it the
old movie theater, not
restored. Silver was first
discovered in Pioche in
1864, and the town
peaked in production,
population and reputation
in 1872. Although $60
million in ore has been
mined over the years,
Pioche has just 700 residents today,
compared to 10,000 when it
boomed in the 1870's.
You can get a good workout just
walking up and down Main Street.
It is very steep and the town sits at
6,000 feet elevation. Each side of
the street is lined with shops, and later, as I glanced at a photo from the
1950's, it was clear little had changed, except perhaps the names of the
stores. There is a lot of pride and a bit of whimsy in this town, and the
old ore buckets and mini rail-cars are put to good use all over town as
planters and roof decorations.
We stopped in at the History
Museum where curator Jane
Humphrey told us endless tales.
During the wild 1870's, when everyone was staking
claims, many claims overlapped due to poor
surveys and minimal legal authority. Often, strikes
were claimed by running to the courthouse faster
than the next guy. The town was reputed to be the
wildest of all wild west towns. 75 men died from
gunshot wounds before the first resident died of
natural causes, and most of those men are buried
in Boot Hill Cemetery, so named because they
were buried with their boots on.
As long as you killed in self-defense, it wasn't
murder, and you weren't charged. One man was
shot after slapping another man on the face, and
one was shot following a dispute over a dog.
Neither killer was charged with murder. The long
arm of the law couldn't reach Pioche; it was too
remote.
Profits and greed were the motivator of the day.
Only when a 4-year-old was killed by stray gunfire in 1873, an event that followed on the
heels of a scathing New York Times article describing Pioche's wild side in 1872, did the
town begin to check its lawless ways.
We ran into Jane again at the
Million Dollar Courthouse and
heard more wonderful stories
about the town. Construction of
the courthouse in 1872 cost just
$26,400, but corrupt government
officials pocketed much of the
first round of bond money and
allowed construction to run more
than three times over budget.
By 1937 when all the compounded interest and principal of the
subsequent bonds were finally paid off (an act that involved two counties
and a major settlement with the bondholders), the building had cost just
under a million dollars. Unfortunately, by that time the building had been
condemned for four years!
Jane's personal tales were equally fascinating. One neighbor of hers was excavating her backyard to build an addition and found
not just ancient tunnels connecting to other buildings but many bottles of opium lining those tunnels as well. Another friend did
some extensive plumbing repairs to her house and found 19 coffee cans stuffed with silver and gold coins. Jane routinely sends
her grandkids out into the hills to "find stuff," and most recently they returned with an exquisite silver ladle. Many of these items are
on display in the History Museum.
Pioche is an absolute gem of a town, but it is still far from the long arm of
modern civilization. In 1994 Pioche tried to get PBS to bring Antiques
Road Show to town, but was turned down because it is too remote.
However, the illusionist Chris Angel did come to town with a full entourage
of TV people. After studying the historic jail for 5 days, he was locked
behind the two-foot thick walls. As the cameras rolled, he pulled off his
escape.
The jail was conveniently located next to the courtroom, and in its day only
3 men escaped. After 9 days of intense rain, these men were able to dig
along the foundation from the inside, using picks they had fashioned from
eating utensils. Upon emerging in the courtyard next to the jail, their
commotion raised the suspicions of the sheriff, who was doing his
personal business in the outhouse just steps away. He burst open the
door and arrested them on the spot -- with his pants around his knees.
The jail once housed 66 people -- for one night in the 1970's when a huge
New Year's Eve party got out of control. The jail was the only place that
could house all the rabble rousers!
A lifelong town resident told Jane his father had used
the jail once as well -- to discipline his own son. This
man, now 89, vividly remembered disobeying his father
and avoiding his chores when he was 9, and
consequently being locked in the jail for one night (as
his father and the sheriff cooperated to teach him a
lesson). The boy started crawling through the rafters in
the dark and came across a human skull. He leapt to
the floor in terror and sat bolt upright in the wooden
chair til morning. Needless to say, he never disobeyed
his father again.
Our heads spinning with these tales,
we sought a change of pace, and
ventured out of town on our bikes a
few afternoons to visit the beautiful
state parks nearby. After a 10 mile
spin through open desert brush one
day, we came to Echo Canyon, a cool
reservoir oasis with steep, echoing
canyon walls
Heading in the opposite
direction on a different day,
we discovered Cathedral
Gorge, a sandstone
treasure.
With a haunting otherworldliness
reminiscent of the many canyons we
loved in Utah, Cathedral Gorge offers
spires, slotted "caves" and
breathtaking moonscapes.
The day was hot, and the unrelenting sandstone and
desert vistas left us parched. But as we stepped into
the slots that enter the Cathedral Caves, we found the
air crisp and refreshing and the stone cool to the touch.
Shimmying between the slots we
looked up to catch brief peeks at the sky
high overhead.
As we clambered
over the smaller
spires and perched
on outcroppings
overlooking the
valley, we found
ourselves uttering
that now-so-familiar
refrain: "What a
cool area!"
We had an appointment ahead of us, however: Interbike, the annual bicycle
industry trade show in Las Vegas. So our days in Pioche drew to a close and
we made our way first to Vegas and then on to San Diego for some fun in the
surf and sun.
Best Friends Animal Sanctuary & Southwest Wildlife Foundation in Utah
Best Friends Animal Sanctuary
Reception Building
Avian greeters
Joey, Hyacinth Macaw
South America
Honey, Major Mitchell Cocaktoo
Australia
Seppi, Mollucan Cockatoo
native to Indonesia
Writes a column in the monthly magazine
Quetzl, Congo African Grey
Age 54 - the same as Mark!
Tika, Umbrella Cockatoo, native to Indonesia
"Angel Canyon"
The sanctuary sits on 5 stunning square miles
Rescued horses live in Horse Haven
Angel's Rest Cemetery
Cemetery plots for all the animals. No animals are
killed; most are fostered out to new homes; a lucky
few live out their days at the sanctuary.
The cat house
Siesta time
Bunny companionship
All the bunnies, dogs and cats
have indoor/outdoor living
quarters, and they come and go
at will.
Nothing like some soft green grass for your
campsite.
Martin Tyner & Thumper, a Harris Hawk
22 years old, reaches speeds of 100 mph
Igor, a Prairie Falcon
Dives for prey at 200 mph
Scout, a Golden Eagle
Can spot a yummy rabbit from 5 miles away.
Golden Eagle: 7 lbs and 7,000 feathers
Can reach altitudes of 35,000 feet
and hurtle towards earth at 145 mph
Each raptor got many hugs during the seminar.
A different golden eagle was released later that day
from an overlook in Cedar City, UT.
Utah Sanctuaries: Best Friends & Southwest Wildlife Foundation
July 15-19, 2008 - Kanab, Utah sits squarely between three of
the greatest national parks in the US, and we stopped there,
along with everyone else, for supplies, water and haircuts. We
didn't intend to stay, but as we were leaving town we saw a cute
sign that said "Best Friends Animal Sanctuary" with an arrow
pointing down a winding road that seemed to go deep into a
canyon. We couldn't resist the temptation and took that turn.
Four days later we finally emerged!!
Best Friends is a unique,
extraordinarily well-funded and
beautiful no-kill animal shelter.
It sits on 5 square miles of
exotic red rock canyon and
houses 2,000 animals. Their
mission is to find homes for all
the animals that are adoptable, while the rest are allowed to live out their days in the loving care
of an enormous staff. The grounds and landscaping alone are worth seeing, but it was the
many tours of the various animal areas that kept us in that canyon so long.
I am a bird lover, and the parrot garden is a treat. On
summer days, all the parrots are kept in outdoor enclosures under a canopy of huge shade
trees near a pretty waterfall feature. Visitors are invited to interact with the parrots, and we
spent many happy hours entertaining and being entertained by these squawking, talking,
feathered comedians. The parrots' nighttime quarters
are indoors, so twice a day during the summer months
the bird caretakers do the Parrot Parade, carrying each
bird between its indoor enclosure and its outdoor
enclosure. On the hottest summer afternoons the
caretakers walk around misting the birds with water
sprayers to help them stay cool. What a life!
An important
theme at the
sanctuary is
positive
interactions
between the
animals and
people. All the tours are free, and you can
volunteer to stick around and work with your
favorite animals for as little as a few hours or
for as long as you want to stay. There are
cabins and a tiny RV park in the canyon to
accommodate volunteers, and many return
for a week or two every year.
Seppi, a Mollucan cockatoo, likes to walk
along the underside of the
roof of his cage, hanging
upside down and talking to
you. Quetzl, a quiet
African Grey, was hatched
in 1954 but doesn't look a
day over five. Tika, an
Umbrella cockatoo, was
summering at the sanctuary
while his owner took care of
some personal challenges.
He was accustomed to a lot
of attention, so he was happy
to climb into my arms and get
some free cuddles for a while.
The canyon, officially "Kanab Canyon" but affectionately called "Angel Canyon," is a
dramatic gorge lined with towering red rock cliffs. Most sanctuary tours require a
shuttlebus ride of a few miles from the reception building out into the rest of the
property: Dogtown Heights, the Cat House, Feathered Friends and the Bunny House.
The drive along the cliff's edges is stunning, and we passed some
of the sanctuary horses who live a charmed life, grazing in peace
while gazing at multi-million dollar views.
Angel's Rest cemetery is along this road as well. Every animal that dies at the
shelter is buried here with a headstone. There are tiny plots for the little birds and
big plots for the large farm animals. Even horses, goats and cows are adopted out
to new homes, whenever possible, and the video shown hourly at the reception
building included snapshots of many happy people who had become loving owners
of goats, sheep and other farm animals.
Most of the animal
buildings are built with
wings that provide an
indoor shelter with a
doorway the animals can
pass through to reach an
outdoor shelter. At the
cat house, the outdoor areas include ladders, pillowed perches, and a
lattice-work of planks and shelving near the ceiling. Litter boxes, food
and water dishes are discreetly placed in these out-of-reach alcoves.
Looking up, all we could see was the
odd paw or tail hanging down from
the lofty hideaways. It was siesta
time, and all the cats were happily
dozing.
The bunnies have indoor/outdoor
housing as well, and since bunnies
like to cuddle, many had a stuffed
bunny to snuggle up to. Outside, one bunny
was working very hard digging a hole, while a
few others were taking a load off under little
tent-like canopies that offered cool shade in a
lush bed of soft green grass.
Dogtown was a busy barking array of buildings. Most of the
dogs from Michael Vicks' dog-fighting operation had just been
rescued, and many dogs from Katrina were still in transition
here. We heard amazing stories of animal rescues. One lady
had 200 guinea pigs living in her 10' x 10' kitchen, and another
wacko had 1,600 rabbits in her back yard. 1,000 cats were
taken from a crazy lady's home in Pahrump, Nevada, and as I
heard the tale from a caretaker I remembered reading about it in
the Pahrump newspaper when we visited eight months earlier.
All those cats, rabbits and guinea pigs had passed through Best
Friends to new owners or were still at the sanctuary hoping for
new homes.
Before an animal is adopted out, it must go on an overnight stay to ensure that it is a well-behaved
propsective pet. Visitors can volunteer for these overnight stays, without obligation, at Parry Lodge in
Kanab. If the animal flunks the test, it simply gets a little more loving at the sanctuary, as the caretakers
work to improve its manners.
August 30, 2008 - In Parowan, Utah, at the Iron
County State Fair, we attended a fantastic
demonstration and talk by Martin Tyner, founder
of Southwest Wildlife Foundation. His
sanctuary focuses on rehabilitating native
creatures and returning them to the wild. It was
my understanding that Rocky Mountain Power
Company has recently donated a huge, multi-million dollar parcel of land
to this sanctuary. Eventually, once money is raised for land
improvements and building construction, this foundation could become
for native wildlife what Best Friends already is for more domesticated
animals.
He had three raptors with him: a Harris Hawk, a Prairie Falcon and a
Golden Eagle. He is a Master Falconer, and although he uses each of these
particular birds for education purposes, he takes them all out hunting on a
regular basis to keep their natural instincts sharp. His job is to flush out rabbits
and other prey from the desert brush so the raptors can catch their meals. They
fly free, and they fly high, happy to have a trained human to take the guesswork
out of finding dinner.
He told us of the highly aggressive nature of the Prairie Falcon, a slim bird that
screamed periodically throughout his talk. A few years back he had rescued and
rehabilitated a particularly aggressive female that had deserved her nickname
"Horrible." He released her into the desert near Cedar City, and she became a
great mom and has raised several clutches of young since then. But she's oh-
so-smart. She recognizes his truck from their many hunting outings together
when she was in his care. Now, when he brings other raptors into the desert to
hunt, she goes out of her way to tease and harrass him. One time, as he stood
with his arm outstretched waiting for his raptor to return to him, she dived
at him from the other direction, knocking him to the ground six feet away!
At the moment of impact, he suddenly understood exactly the kind of
blood-draining terror that rabbits feel when a Prairie Falcon singles them
out for a lunch date.
He invited everyone at the talk to come out to the highest ridge in Cedar
City later that afternoon to witness his release of a Golden Eagle back
into the wild. We didn't attend, but he said that whenever he releases a
bird he welcomes spectators, so hopefully we will watch a release
another time. He told us that the local Paiute Indians have a special
relationship with Golden Eagles. They believe that if you say a prayer
over an eagle feather, the prayer will
be carried directly to God. The Golden
Eagle being released that afternoon
was going to carry prayers for more
than 4,000 local cancer victims, the "down winders" in southern Utah who contracted cancer as a
direct result of the Cold War era nuclear testing carried out next door in Nevada.
Unrelated to these two wonderful animal sanctuaries in Utah, I recently discovered that Bird
Lovers Only Rescue in Dyer, Indiana has a very funny movie clip of a lesser sulphur crested
cockatoo dancing to the beat of the Backstreet Boys here. It puts a smile on my face every time I
watch it.
We spent the summer of 2008 bee-bopping around souther Utah, and one of the most eye-
popping stops was at the majestic Bryce Canyon National Park.
Bryce Canyon, UT – Fairyland of Pink Turrets
Inspiration Point overlooking Bryce Ampitheater
Bryce Canyon Point
Smiles everywhere
Natural symmetry
The regularity and precision of
these formations can be dizzying.
Trees cling to the rim
Bryce Ampitheater
Beginning of Queen's Garden hike
The spires give way to a smooth, orange and red
moonscape
Trees from another planet
End of the trail -- at Queen's
Garden
Nature's Wall Street
The top of the Wall Street switch backs
Bryce Lodge has many cute cabins for guests
The Peek-a-boo hike defies nature's laws and seems
to ascend for the entire loop.
Serenity
Spires and spikey trees surrounded
us
Peek-a-boo
At times it seemed as though we were wandering
among towering chess pieces.
A promontory hangs into the canyon for an awe
inspiring view. A good place to take a breather!
Little tunnels and hobbit doorways invite the hiker to
vast views on the other side.
Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah
July 20-August 20, 2008 - We had
arrived in the lower elevations of
Kanab, UT and visited Best
during a peak week of monsoon
activity. Monsoons are a
southwest phenomenon that give
the desert's much needed
moisture and relief from the heat
in mid-summer. I had learned
about them living in Arizona, but
had never known that they could
spread their salve as far north as
southern Utah and even over into
southern Colorado. It is magic to
watch the sky cloud over promptly
at noon every day, and there is a
lusciousness to being drenched
by brief downpours every
afternoon. These storms leave
the air crisp and clear, and they
keep the ferocious heat to a minimum. Once the monsoons abated, we
found ourselves in an oven, baking by noon, and burnt to a crisp by
evening. Full of energy at the break of day, we were lethargic sloths by
nightfall. It was time to get back to the higher elevations. We left Kanab
for Ruby's Inn, a settlement just outside of Bryce Canyon National Park at
7,500 feet.
Bryce Canyon
is a wonderland of pink and white
spires, laid out with amazing
symmetry. The open bowl of
crystalline formations carved from
the surrounding flat plains
resembles an ampitheater. The
man who first ranched the area
around Rubys Inn in the 1800's
had no idea the canyon was just
beyond his land. Imagine the
look on his face when, at the
suggestion of a knowledgeable
neighbor, he took his family on an
excursion to the rim! It is a place that evokes smiles
in everyone, and as we rode the shuttle bus to the
view points and walked the many trails that lead
along the edge and down into the canyon, I was
struck by how happy everyone was. Children love
this place.
We walked along the Rim, from
Bryce Point to Inspiration Point,
and watched a fantastic summer
thunderstorm creep over the
valley until we had to run for
cover ourselves. This land was
carved by a divine hand using the
tools of wind and rain to erode the
rock into fantastic formations. I
was awed by the regularity of the
carvings. Rows upon rows of
spires stand in perfect military
formation.
At the top the
trees cling to the rim for dear life,
their roots clawing at the
crumbling gravel as their
branches wave ominously in the
breeze, threatening to rip the
trees from the edge. At the
bottom the trees pierce the air
above them, the dark green
spikes contrasting with the
orange and white striped spears
of rock.
We hiked down into the canyon to
the Queen's Garden. As you descend on this hike,
the land becomes otherworldly. Between the spires,
the land forms smooth, rounded slopes and the
trees are short and twisted. The noise of the
tourists at the rim fades away behind you and the
solitude and odd surroundings seem like a
moonscape. The emotional
anchor of the ordinary looking
grassy fields and ranches that
surround Bryce Canyon
disappear from view, and you
find yourself on the moon, or
mars, looking up at the red rock
spires, repeating the mantra:
"Wow!"
The gravel path winds in and out
of the spires, abandoning one
spectacular sight as it takes a
sharp turn around a bend
towards another. We walked
through several doorways and
tunnels, emerging from each to
find ourselves staring at yet
another splendid work of art by
Nature. People linger on these
trails. Llittle groups and pairs line
themselves up for photos, posing
all over this spectacular setting.
Cameras are handed around
trustingly between strangers in
order to get everyone in each
group into the pictures. "I'll take
one for you if you'll take one for
me," is the phrase of the day,
sometimes said in broken English,
and often accompanied with gestures and sign language. Cameras are all
shapes and sizes. "Just press the button." Lots of nodding and pointing.
Everyone is grinning. None of us can wait to show these pictures to our
friends back home. All the photos turn out great.
At the very bottom we came to a plaque that showed us
Queen Victoria. This was the Queen's Garden. She is
at the tippy top of a spire. She looks very regal, and
very wee. In time she will erode away and be replaced
by other shapes. Looking around at the other hoodoo
rock formations, we made out a medieval friar and a
great horned owl to accompany the queen.
We had descended about a thousand feet and had to
climb back up again to the rim. We chose the route that
goes through Wall Street, where the red rock walls
close around you like skyscrapers but much closer. A
switchback trail takes you up until you look way down
on the tiny pine trees at the base. Then you climb
higher til the people seem mere specks. Your heart
pounds from the exertion of climbing
straight up, and when you reach the
top the view takes your breath away
yet again.
We wandered along the rim and met
a little girl holding a camera that was
as big as she was. What a smile she
had as that camera clicked away.
The Bryce Canyon Lodge is the
oldest original National Park lodge still
standing; the others at Yellowstone,
Grand Canyon and the rest all
succombed to fire at one time or
another and were rebuilt. Bryce isn't immune to
wildfires, however, and there were many "prescribed
burns" in action while we were there as the Park Service
attempted to keep the woods thinned so they wouldn't
be prone to future fires.
We spent a few days riding our bikes and hiking in the
areas away from Bryce Canyon and then returned to do
the Peek-a-boo hike. We were both surprised at how
the grins came back to our faces and the "wow" formed
on our lips again as soon as we walked up to the rim.
What a place.
We had no idea why the Peek-a-boo hike has its name,
and we descended into the canyon away from the
crowds wondering what laid
ahead.
Once again, as we walked down
into the canyon, we felt an
almost physical sensation cloak
our bodies as the immense quiet and peace of this place enveloped us.
Suddenly, we looked up at a wall of spires and saw one hole, and then
another. "So that's why it's called Peek-a-boo!" Mark said, mugging for
the camera. We walked with our heads up and our eyes on the peaks,
tripping occasionally. But you can't look down on this hike, even as you
stumble.
The trail
twisted and turned and double-backed on itself between formations. I
felt like a rat in a maze, or a child stomping around on an enormous
chessboard.
We did a lot of climbing on this hike, more than seemed physically
possible for a loop hike. Mark walked faster than I did (he didn't
bring his camera and mine kept slowing me down!), and I turned a
corner and looked up to see him happily surveying the view from
an ideal vantage point. Once I caught up to him we sat together
for a moment.
When we turned to continue on, we were facing a little doorway. As we passed through the door
to the glittering view on the other side, I felt like Dorothy as she steps out of her Kansas house
into the colorful Land of OZ.
After a few weeks at our "ranch
house" outside of Bryce Canyon,
among the cattle, ponderosa pines
and pronghorn, overlooking grazing
lands that stretched to the horizon,
we felt like it was home. Our TV got
great NBC reception, so we stayed to
watch most of the Beijing Olympics. It
was very hard to tear ourselves away,
but eventually the day came, and
once we hit the road, the excitement
of discovering new places propelled us forward and made us eager to
leave. We bumped into the sweet village of Alton and gradually made
our way over the mountains to Parowan and Cedar City.
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More info about Bryce Canyon National Park:
- Bryce Canyon National Park Official Website – National Park Service Website
- Maps of Bryce Canyon National Park – National Park Service Maps
- Location of Bryce Canyon National Park – Google Maps
- RV/Tent Campgrounds in Bryce Canyon – Dry camping for small / medium RVs inside the National Park
- Ruby’s Inn RV Park – Full hookups and Big Rig Friendly in nearby Bryce Canyon City
- Red Canyon Campground – Beautiful dry camping with 6-8 campsites big enough for our 36′ fifth wheel trailer.
More blog posts from our RV trips to Bryce Canyon
- Bryce Canyon in Winter – Snow and Lace on the Red Rock Spires! 01/25/19
- Spring in Sarasota FL + Bryce Canyon’s Night Skies – in Trailer Life 04/04/17
- Bryce Canyon – Rainbow Point – Bristlecone Pines and Sweeping Vistas 11/01/16
- Bryce Canyon National Park – “Mossy Cave” – Mystery Waterfall! 10/18/16
- Red Canyon Utah and the Bryce Canyon Bike Trail! 10/13/16
- Bryce Canyon Gone Wild – Tempests, Rainbows & Wildlife 10/09/16
- Bryce Canyon National Park – Fairyland Trail – A Beautiful Hike! 10/02/16
- Bryce Canyon – Hiking The Rim & Navajo Loop + A Tourist Time-lapse! 09/29/16
- Bryce Canyon National Park – Inspiration Point – OMG! 09/27/16
- Bryce Canyon, UT – Fairyland of Pink Turrets 08/25/08
Related posts from our RV travels:
- Our RV travels in Southwestern Utah – Bryce, Zion and Capitol Reef area
- Our RV travels in Southeastern Utah – Moab, Arches, and Canyonlands area
- Our RV travels to Sedona Arizona – Red Rock Country in AZ
- Our travels to North America’s National Parks – National Parks and World Heritage Sites in the US, Canada and Mexico
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