San Diego – Magical Seaport Village

Kona Kai Marina San Diego California

Kona Kai Marina

Shelter Island San Diego California

Pelican resting

Bird sculpture Old Town San Diego CA

Bird sculpture

Bike sculpture Old Town San Diego CA

Bike sculpture

Bottlenose Dolphin sculpture Old Town San Diego CA

Bottlenose Dolphin Sculpture

Kaleidescope sculpture Old Town San Diego CA

Kaleidoscope Interactive Sculpture

Maritime Museum San Diego

Historical Maritime Museum Ship

Star of India San Diego, CA

Marlin leaps across the Star of India's bow.

Street Performer, San Diego, CA

Street performing sculpture jumps

to life as we pass.

Bicycle sculpture San Diego CA

Bikes are an important part of San

Diego culture

Pedalcab in San Diego

Pedalcabs cruise the boardwalks along the water.

World War II Memorial San Diego CA

Mark and I mimic the famous WWII

victory sculpture.

Seaport Village Street Vendors San Diego CA

Tourists learn their fortunes from a psychic.

Seaport Village San Diego CA

Another street vendor offers parrot

cuddling for donations.

Ahh... I get one of several bird fixes during my San

Diego visit.

San Diego waterfront

San Diego -- what a city!

San Diego Boat Show

Beneteaus line the entrance to the boat show.

San Diego Boat Show

Yeah, I could live here!

San Diego Boat Show

Familiar but a little different than our fifth wheel.

San Diego Boat Show

Not bad for living aboard.

Shelter Island San Diego CA

An Umbrella Cockatoo peers down at me from a

swaying palm.

Shelter Island San Diego CA

Dave takes his cockatoo out for a

fly in the late afternoon.

Shelter Island San Diego CA

She loves every minute of her freedom.

Kona Kai Marina San Diego CA

Bird of Paradise flower.

San Diego Harbor

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

Florida Panhandle.

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:

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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

Arizona's Deserts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

San Diego – Laid Back Mission Bay

Beneteau sailboat in Mission Bay

A sailboat heads out of Mission Bay to the open ocean

Bird of Paradise flower and palm trees in Mission Bay

Bird of Paradise in Mission Bay

Palm trees in Mission Bay

Tranquility and peace reign at

Mission Bay

Cute villas line the walks at Mission Bay

Cycling the paths along the Mission Bay beach villas

Beachfront bungalows and villas on Mission Beach

Mission Beach cottages open onto the wide sandy beach

Beachfront bungalows and villas on Mission Beach

Charming beach houses line the boardwalk

View looking from Mission Beach up towards Pacific Beach  San Diego California

Pacific Beach - kite-boarding paradise.

Surf shops and surfer lifestyle at Mission Beach San Diego California

Surf shops.

Surf lessons, surfing and the surf lifestyle at Mission Beach San Diego California

Anyone can learn to surf here, though the buff bod

may be harder to achieve.

Surfer with his surfboard at Mission Beach San Diego California Bicycle rentals and bikes lined up on Mission Beach San Diego California California laid back attitude, guitar and bike in Mission Beach San Diego California

SoCal is truly laid back

Beach bikes and coaster bikes at Mission Beach San Diego California Crazy California stuff

A modern day Jesus Freak?

RV lineup at Mission Bay Mission Beach San Diego California Old Winnebago at Mission Bay San Diego California

Any smaller, older RV will do.

Not a Winnebago, but it's still an RV at Mission Bay San Diego California Laidback RV lifestyle at Mission Bay San Diego California

Jerry relaxes in the back of his toy hauler.

Horses and horseback riding on Fiesta Island, Mission Bay San Diego California

Horses cool their hooves along the beaches at Fiesta

Island

Life's a beach at Fiesta Island.  Our RV is parked at Mission Bay San Diego

Life's a Beach on Fiesta Island

Palm trees at Mission Bay San Diego California Hotel del Coronado on Coronado Island San Diego California

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

Yuma, Arizona.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

San Diego – Shelter Island = Boater’s Paradise

San Diego view from our RV

San Diego view out our front door.

San Diego view from our RV

Boats anchored right off the shore

San Diego skyline view from our RV RVs lined up on Shelter Island Drive

RVs line up for the San Diego Shuffle

RVs line the shore at Shelter Island San Diego

RVs enjoy a multimillion dollar view of the city skyline

Walking paths at Bali Hai Restaurant Shelter Island

Walking paths wander the shoreline of Shelter Island

Wooden schooner in view from our RV at Shelter Island San Diego

Hammock in the rigging on a festive schooner.

Wooden schooner in view from our RV at Shelter Island San Diego

Boats of all kinds slip by in the bay

San Diego city skyline seen from Shelter Island

Wildlife is everywhere

Sportfisherman lands a shark at Shelter Island, San Diego

A local sport fisherman shows off the shark he caught

before returning it to the sea.

Harbor seal at Shelter Island San Diego

The seals rule the roost, lounging

around all day and barking as the

sun goes down.

Kona Kai Marina at Shelter Island

Shoreline overlooking the marinas

Shelter Island Marina and Kona Kai Marina

Shelter Island Marina is teaming with boats.

Shelter Island Marina and Kona Kai Marina

Peaceful Sunday morning at Shelter Island

Circumnavigators

Stephen Mann & Kathleen Torres show their round-

the-world route on a transparent globe.

Circumnavigators

"Tawodi" will take them across the Southern Ocean.

Kona Kai Marina and Shelter Island Marina

The gate to the Mega Yacht Dock at Kona Kai Marina

113' Wooden Schooner undergoes repairs at Shelter Island in San Diego

This gorgeous 113' wooden schooner on the

Mega Yacht Dock has been round the world 3 times.

Boats at the Transient Dock in San Diego harbor

The perfectly named "Cream Puff"

Salty sailors at the transient dock at San Diego

Jeff (Cap'n Hook), one of the many salty characters

on the docks

Cruise Ship leaves San Diego harbor

Cruise ship leaves for points south from San Diego Harbor

Sailing a Hunter 41DS Sailboat

Mark takes the helm

Boats on San Diego harbor

This little car zipped by us on the water.

Ferrari and Lamborghini car club on Shelter Island

Exotic sports car gathering

Art show on Shelter Island

Art shows every weekend

Sunset in the palm trees in San Diego

The sky turns to fire in the dreamy San Diego twilight.

Full moon rises between the masts of a wooden schooner in San Diego

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, Utah Kanab, Utah Kanab city park, Kanab, Utah Kanab city park, Kanab, Utah Kanab city park, Kanab, Utah Kanab, Utah Squaw Trail, Kanab, Utah Squaw Trail, Kanab, Utah Squaw Trail, Kanab, Utah Squaw Trail, Kanab, Utah Squaw Trail, Kanab, Utah Squaw Trail, Kanab, Utah Squaw Trail, Kanab, Utah Kanab, Utah Kanab, Utah Welcome to Alton, Utah Alton, Utah Alton, Utah Alton, Utah Alton, Utah Alton, Utah

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

Iron County Fair, Parowan, Utah Vermillion Castles in First Left Hand Canyon (Yankee Meadows Road), Parowan, Utah

We learned the "Vermillion Castles"

are not man-made

Yankee Meadows Reservoir in Parowan Canyon, Parowan, Utah

Yankee Meadows Reservoir in Parowan Canyon

Yankee Meadows Reservoir in Parowan Canyon, Parowan, Utah

A split rail fence lines the reservoir

Yankee Meadows Reservoir in Parowan Canyon, Parowan, Utah

One couple we met ate fresh-caught trout every night

Second Left Hand Canyon, Parowan, Utah

Our epic ride up 2nd Left Hand Rd was challenging

Second Left Hand Canyon, Parowan, Utah

Finally, we made it to the top

Rides at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah

The Iron County Fair had something for everyone

More rides at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah

Lots of thrills for young and old

Crafts on display at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah Musical performance at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah Clowns at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah Petting Zoo at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah Rodeo Queens at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah

Mark discovered the Rodeo Royalty

Old folks playing horse shoes at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah is fun for everyone Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah tractor show Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah tractor show Tractor show at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah Kids get fun rides at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah

Nearby, the youngest crowd got to test the

driver's seat for the first time

Antique car show at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah

The older "kids" showed off the muscle cars of their youth

Tractor show at Iron Country Fair, Parowan, Utah

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

RV blog post - We had a blast in Pioche, Nevada, the

Silver ore bucket tramway

Silver ore bucket tramway Pioche Nevada Minter's shack Pioche Nevada

Miner's shack

Main Street Pioche Nevada

Looking up Main Street

Opera House at Pioche Nevada

The opera house, restored, and movie theater, waiting

Main Street in Pioche Nevada

Looking up Main Street

Antiques from the mining days Pioche Nevada

Antiques are everywhere

Old western storefront in Pioche Nevada

Lots of whimsy in this town

Main Street in Pioche Nevada Overland Hotel in Pioche Nevada

Overland Hotel

Million Dollar Courthouse in Pioche Nevada

Million Dollar Courthouse

Million Dollar Courhouse and jailhouse in Pioche Nevada

Short walk from the courthouse to

the jailhouse

Million Dollar Courhouse and jailhouse in Pioche Nevada

Front door to the jailhouse

Million Dollar Courhouse and jailhouse in Pioche Nevada

Jail cells

Million Dollar Courhouse library in Pioche Nevada

The court library was used until

1972.  It contains all of Nevada's

law books through that year.

Cathedral Gorge State Park outside Pioche Nevada

Cathedral Gorge

Cathedral Caves in Cathedral Gorge State Park outside Pioche Nevada

Cathedral Caves - very narrow and

chilly inside

Cathedral Caves in Cathedral Gorge State Park outside Pioche Nevada

The sky is way up there

Cathedral Caves in Cathedral Gorge State Park outside Pioche Nevada

View through the top of the caves

Sandstone spires in Cathedral Gorge State Park outside Pioche Nevada

Spires near Cathedral Caves

Sandstone spires in Cathedral Gorge State Park outside Pioche Nevada

This land suggests another world

Cathedral Gorge State Park outside Pioche Nevada

Cathedral Gorge - reminiscent of Utah's red rocks

Cathedral Gorge State Park outside Pioche Nevada

A little bit of desert heaven on earth

Cathedral Gorge State Park outside Pioche Nevada

The park service makes this an

easy hike with handy stairways

Cathedral Gorge State Park outside Pioche Nevada

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 at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, Kanab, Utah

The cat house

Siesta time at the Cat House Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, Kanab, Utah

Siesta time

The Bunny House Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, Kanab, Utah At the Bunny House Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, Kanab, Utah

Bunny companionship

At the Bunny House Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, Kanab, Utah

All the bunnies, dogs and cats

have indoor/outdoor living

quarters, and they come and go

at will.

The Bunny House at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, Kanab, Utah

Nothing like some soft green grass for your

campsite.

Dogtown Heights at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, Kanab, Utah Southwest Wildlife Foundation

Martin Tyner & Thumper, a Harris Hawk

22 years old, reaches speeds of 100 mph

Igor, a Prairie Falcon Southwest Wildlife Foundation

Igor, a Prairie Falcon

Dives for prey at 200 mph

Scout, a Golden Eagle Southwest Wildlife Foundation

Scout, a Golden Eagle

Can spot a yummy rabbit from 5 miles away.

Golden Eagle: 7 lbs and 7,000 feathers Southwest Wildlife Foundation

Golden Eagle: 7 lbs and 7,000 feathers

Can reach altitudes of 35,000 feet

and hurtle towards earth at 145 mph

Raptors - Southwest Wildlife Foundation

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

Inspiration Point overlooking Bryce Ampitheater

Bryce Canyon Point

Bryce Canyon Point

Smiles everywhere at Bryce Canyon

Smiles everywhere

Stunning views at Bryce Canyon, Utah Stunning views at Bryce Canyon, Utah

Natural symmetry

Stunning views at Bryce Canyon, Utah

The regularity and precision of

these formations can be dizzying.

Trees cling to the rim at Bryce Canyon, Utah

Trees cling to the rim

Bryce Canyon Ampitheater

Bryce Ampitheater

Rim views, Bryce Canyon, Utah Beginning of Queen's Garden hike Bryce Canyon, Utah

Beginning of Queen's Garden hike

The spires give way to a smooth, orange and red moonscape at Bryce Canyon, Utah

The spires give way to a smooth, orange and red

moonscape

Bryce Canyon, Utah

Trees from another planet

Queen's Garden Bryce Canyon, Utah

End of the trail -- at Queen's

Garden

Nature's Wall Street at Bryce Canyon, Utah

Nature's Wall Street

Looking down from the top of the Wall Street switchbacks at Bryce Canyon, Utah

The top of the Wall Street switch backs

Bryce Canyon, Utah Bryce Lodge has many cute cabins for guests

Bryce Lodge has many cute cabins for guests

The Peek-a-boo hike at Bryce Canyon defies nature's laws and seems to ascend for the entire loop.

The Peek-a-boo hike defies nature's laws and seems

to ascend for the entire loop.

Serenity along the hiking trails at Bryce Canyon

Serenity

Spires and spikey trees surrounded us at Bryce Canyon, Utah

Spires and spikey trees surrounded

us

Peek-a-boo, the namesake of the Peek-a-boo trail at Bryce Canyon

Peek-a-boo

Seeming chess pieces at Bryce Canyon

At times it seemed as though we were wandering

among towering chess pieces.

Stunning view at Bryce Canyon, Utah

A promontory hangs into the canyon for an awe

inspiring view.  A good place to take a breather!

Tunnels and arches at Bryce Canyon, Utah

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

Friends Animal Sanctuary,

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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