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How do you top the scenery we’ve described in the Utah national parks?

By spending time with wonderful old friends, that’s how.

The evening after Memorial Day, we arrived in Heber City, about an hour outside Salt Lake City and a few miles from Park City.

One footnote on the drive up from Zion was that we enjoyed the all-time best gas/service station experience, at Beaver (Utah) Chevron.  Jeff proved that friendliness and attentiveness aren’t lost arts yet!

We spent Wednesday with Karyn Barsa, a friend of Ginny’s since middle school, culminating in a superb meal at one of the many restaurants on Park City’s Main Street.

Thursday we teed it up with Rusty Martin, my old friend from NFL days, who moved to Park City in the 90s and has had the good sense to never leave. 

The golf scene in the Park City / Heber City area is amazing – five public golf courses , all good, all (shockingly) affordable and none of them crowded.

We also joined Rusty and his lovely wife, Sally, for lunch on Friday… and a hike in their neighborhood that gave us views of the general scenery of Park City and the Heber Valley……plus a view of the bobsled run from the 2002 Winter Olympics. 

And where else but in America could you see the Winter Olympics ski jumps framed by an outlet mall (which we discovered while doing some shopping after saying our goodbyes to Rusty and Sally)?  

Saturday, it was time to say goodbye to Utah and head north.  It didn’t take us long to feel like we were in Cowboy Country, with lots of ranches and wide-open spaces, plus some interesting street signage. 

We did a lot of border-crossing during the drive – from Utah to Wyoming, back into Utah, back into Wyoming, briefly into Idaho, then back into Wyoming, all in the span of about 90 minutes.

Once we were in Wyoming for good, the terrain got mountainous (and snow-capped) again, as we skirted the Snake River and climbed towards Jackson Hole (the valley surrounded by the Tetons) and Jackson (the main town in the valley, where we’re staying this week). 

Our first night in Wyoming was spent enjoying one of those You Can’t Make This Stuff Up coincidences.  We discovered via Facebook that our friends Mike and Lisa Foster arrived here from Connecticut (after a stop in Yellowstone) the same day we did, so we ended up having dinner together at the Mangy Moose Cafe in Teton Village.  Cheers!

 

By Jim.

Bryce Canyon is the smallest of the Utah national parks.  That ended up being lucky for us.

Originally, we planned to spend all day Thursday in the park.  Then plans changed.  Twice.  Which brings us to the tease embedded in recent Santa Fe-related posts.

Many of you have heard us talking up Santa Fe in recent months.  We’ve been researching the area and liking everything we’ve read.  So when we arrived there a couple of weeks ago, we had it in mind that this might be where we end up living after our year-long adventure.  We liked everything we saw while we were there.  And then we found a house that we not only liked everything about, we believed it was a unique place that we weren’t likely to duplicate when we started looking in earnest next year.  So one thing led to another, we signed a contract to buy it and scheduled the building inspection on the Thursday we were supposed to be in Bryce Canyon.

We expected the inspection to be over by lunchtime, leaving us a half-day in Bryce.  But we got a call from the inspector as he was finishing up, reporting that he’d found an issue.  A big one.  We spent all afternoon on the phone and researching the problem.  The more we learned, the less we liked.  By the end of the day, we still hadn’t made it to Bryce and we’d pretty much decided to blow up our house deal.  Without going into gory details, a helpful hint to our loyal readers is if you’re buying a house in the Southwest (including Southern California), beware of a plumbing product called Kitec, unless you’re a class-action lawyer looking to jump onto a big pile of litigation.

We settled for an hour-long hike around the edge of Bryce Canyon with the dogs Friday morning…

…then hit the road for our next stop, the famed Zion National Park in southwest Utah.  We soon discovered that the hype about Zion is justified.
When we got to the park Saturday morning, we were greeted by the announcement, “Welcome to Zion National Park, on our busiest weekend of the year.”  Saturday was like rush-hour traffic in Seattle.  Sunday was like being at the Super Bowl.

And you know what?  That’s good!  All the national parks we’ve been to so far have been crowded.  It’s the best evidence we have that people regard these special places as national treasures, to be savored, enjoyed and protected.

Saturday, we took a short bus tour of the entire Zion Canyon, then did a relatively easy hike on the Kayenta Trail and to the Emerald Pools.  Once again, I had the cutest hiking partner in the whole place.

The main part of Zion is like Yosemite Valley.  Thousands-feet-tall cliffs flank the valley.  We gawked at the peaks……and even saw some mountain climbers on the cliffs.That white sail-shaped thing below the climbers is where, we were told, they slept the previous night – remember that the next time someone tells you that YOU have a crazy hobby.

Sunday, we did a half-day in the park and a half-day of chores.  There’s one dog-friendly hike in Zion, Pa’rus Trail.  It was a nice walk along the Virgin River, plus we checked out campsites for future visits (of which there will be several)……and laughed at the Disneyland-like lines just to get on the shuttle buses (which we avoided because Pa’rus Trail is so close to the park entrance).

Then we drove (the Jeep, not the Iz) through the Zion-Mount Carmel Tunnel just outside the park, which is all of 13 feet tall in the center and only 11 feet 4 inches tall on its sides.  

The tunnel roadway is dark, cramped and leads to more spectacular scenery.

Monday morning, we got up early in anticipation of a Memorial Day mob at Zion, dropped the pups at doggie day care and headed to the park.  The first good news was that the crowds were gone.  The better news was our hike.  The previous sentence is an understatement.

The most famous hike in Zion is Angel’s Landing – 5.4 miles, 1,488 feet of elevation, a couple of near-death experiences at the top and a spot on the National Register of Historic Places.  Our ace researcher, Ginny, came up with an even grander plan – Echo Canyon to Observation Point via the East Rim Trail – 9 miles and 2,788 feet of elevation (and its own place on the National Register).  No “steep, narrow ridge to the summit”, but a trailside warning to be respected…

Okay, now that you’re impressed with our fortitude, let us dazzle you with our pictures.

We started walking up…and up…  

Soon enough, we were above Angel’s Landing, the top of which is about halfway up in the foreground of this pic, protruding from the cliff at the hairpin turn in the Virgin River.The trail wound through a variety of colors and terrain…

…and when we reached the summit, we could look down all the way to the other end of the park and the town of Springdale beyond it.  Pure exhilaration!On our way back down, we could see some of the switchbacks we’d taken on the lower part of the trail on our way up.  And here’s one more from Observation Point.  We’ve never experienced anything like it.

Tuesday, we say goodbye to these spectacular Utah national parks we’ve been exploring and head to Park City/Salt Lake City, where good friends await.

By Jim.

Moab is a semi-infamous Bible character and Utah certainly is Bible country, so we weren’t quite sure what to expect when we arrived.  All good, as it turned out.  The town regards itself as an outpost of Colorado (although it’s stuck serving awful Utah-mandated 3.2 beer).  It’s set in a little red cliff-framed valley, there are lots of shops and restaurants and the vibe is friendly and energetic…none of which really matter, because the sightseeing in the area is beyond belief.

It all started on Saturday, when we took the dogs and hiked up Grandstaff Trail to Morning Glory Arch.  It’s on the outskirts of Arches National Park, only a few minutes outside town.

It was a stimulating hike, with four stream-crossings and a couple of times where one of us had to lift the dogs up or down to the other because of the need to clamber over rocks.  The payoff, once we got to the arch, was worth it!

And it really is an arch!

One interesting thing about the Red Rocks region is the dirt.  It couldn’t be further from Alabama red clay – it’s finer than sand or dirt, almost powdery.

Sunday, we  started at Dead Horse Point, a state park about a half-hour north of Moab.  This must have been Teddy Roosevelt’s biggest blown draft choice, by not tapping it as a national park.

Part of the drive was through open pastureland with real cows and cowboys.

The vistas from Dead Horse were panoramicjawdropping.

When weather suddenly approached Dead Horse…

…we drove a few miles up the road to Canyonland National Park.

More wows.

On our return trip, we encountered unusual traffic issues.

If Sunday was Panorama Day, Monday was Arch Day.  The entrance to Arches National Park was just down the road from our RV park.  We had to wait in line for over a half-hour to get through the entrance.  It was worth the wait.

The drive into the park was otherworldly…

First, we drove out to the Landscape and Double-O arches.  After a long drive, it was a short hike to the arches.  Landscape Arch is the longest natural arch on the planet, three feet longer than Kolob Arch in Zion National Park (which we hope to see this weekend).  

Then we did an uphill power hike to the iconic Delicate Arch.  It was the hottest part of the day and the climb was relentless……but rounding the final corner of the climb and seeing this magnificent sight was one of the highlights of our trip.  
The setting around the arch feels like an amphitheater, where people lounge, pose for pics and just soak in the whole experience.

Some of you may have already seen this pic posted by Ginny on Facebook!

As dramatic as the Delicate Arch is, it’s only part of a bigger scene that goes on for miles.

Tuesday, we rode instead of walked.  We did a rafting trip on the Colorado River.  It involved a couple of rapids, but it wouldn’t be fair to call it white-water action.  (Sorry, no photos – all phones and cameras stayed on dry land.). We then went back to our RV park and watched our neighbors spend two hours…full stop…washing their rig.  

Wednesday, we rode some more, to Bryce Canyon, which is about 250 miles from Moab, towards the southwest corner of the state.  It was another demonstration of the extraordinary geography of Utah.  We climbed to 8,000 feet, then stayed there on a broad plateau for over an hour. The rocks turned from red to blonde……there was some residual snow in the mountains…

…plus there were sights you don’t see most places.

On the final leg of the drive, we took the road less traveled to Bryce.  For about 10 miles, we saw three cars.

Cell service was out of the question, and we weren’t even sure the occasional house that we passed had a landline, but we weren’t alone.

We have a day-and-a-half in Bryce, then we head southwest for Zion, where we’ll be through Memorial Day weekend.  As much as we’ve admired Utah so far, we’ve been told that the best is yet to come.

Oh, there’s another big activity going on tomorrow morning.  We’ll report on it soon.

By Ginny

Jim is doing such a good job with the posts (see new below)  that I’ve yet to really jump in- but I will soon.  In the meantime, I thought I would post these pics from today’s hike to Morning Glory Arch.  it was an easy 4-5 mile hike and the dogs LOVED it. This has been quite a ride and I’m so thankful to Jim and pups for loving me like they do and for this opportunity to see our beautiful country!  Hope you are all well.  We miss you and talk about you a lot!  xo

 

We’ll have more to say about Santa Fe in a future post, but the news of the moment is that we left there Wednesday to drive to Cortez, CO, where Ginny’s cousin, Kelly McAndrews, and her family live.

The first couple of hours of the drive were ho-hum, but it was comforting to know that if we got into an accident with the Iz, local legal counsel was available to us.

When we got to Farmington, NM in northwestern New Mexico, we made a navigation goof.  By looking only at Google Maps and not our big National Geographic atlas, we didn’t realize we were only 20 miles from the Four Corners (the border point of Arizona, Utah, New Mexico and Colorado).

But as we crossed into Colorado…

…the scenery turned dramatically better.

As US 491 skirted the Mesa Verde National Park, we started seeing one amazing rock formation after another.

After a warm, welcoming evening at the McAndrews’s horse farm (and trying to keep Roxy away from the horses), and a tour of the nearby Canyons Of The Ancients Monument and Museum (to which Kelly, an archaeologist, has contributed significant research) Friday morning…

…plus seeing photos of a couple of guys with a centurys-old view of the world, which were stuck in a back corridor of the (federally-funded) museum, next to the rest rooms…

we were off to Utah.

As we neared Moab, our first stop, the scenery got beautifully distracting.  It also got very red – they don’t call it the Utah Red Rock Country for nothing!  It was tough to be the driver because there was so much to take in.

During the next 10 days, we will visit Canyonlands, The Arches, Bryce Canyon and Zion National Parks.

We’re also having the stupendous luck of being in Moab at the time of a big ATV race/rally.  We knew something was up when we saw a police escort down Highway 191 for 10 or 12 of the things as we drove into town Friday.  We’ve quickly learned that all ATVs have big tires, no mufflers, tall orange flags on spring-loaded poles, some other splash of bright color somewhere and dudes with goatees driving them.  They cruise by our RV campsite every five minutes or so, with predictable effect on peace and quiet.  But, as Ginny reminds me as she edits this, it’s one of the nicest RV parks we’ve found yet.

By Jim.

Santa Fe is the oldest city in New Mexico and the oldest city in the United States serving as a state capital.  It was founded by Spanish colonists in 1610.  It has been fought over by Spain (in 1598, it was established as a province of New Spain), Mexico (after the Mexican War of Independence from Spain in 1810), St. Louis-based fur traders (after the 1803 Louisiana Purchase), Texas (after the Republic of Texas seceded from Mexico in 1836), the Confederate States of America (briefly flying the Stars and Bars over the city in 1862) and the United States (there’s a national cemetery in town, honoring the Union soldiers who routed the Confederates).  New Mexico became the 47th state in 1912, with Santa Fe as its capital.

When Santa Fe was bypassed by the major railroads in the late 1800’s, its commercial influence waned.  However, artists, writers and retirees (ahem…) were attracted to the cultural richness of the area, the beauty of the landscapes, and its mild, dry climate.  In 1912, civic leaders enacted a sophisticated city plan that incorporated planning and historic preservation.  A 1957 ordinance requires new and rebuilt buildings to exhibit a Spanish or Pueblo style of architecture (which hasn’t totally stopped modern chain-store blight, although buildings such as the McDonald’s on Cerrillos Road feature “faux-dobe” stucco in their construction).

The city is a haven for the arts – art galleries, music (including a world-famous opera house) and a major foodie scene.  There are miles of bike/hiking trails and a ski mountain only 20 minutes away (straight up the nearby Sangre de Cristo mountains, the southern foothills of the Rockies).

The climate is astonishing.  The hottest month is July, with an average high temperature of 86 degrees and an average low of 54; in the coldest month, December, those averages are 44 and 31.  There are 320 days of sunshine per year.  After our four days of 100-plus temperatures in Arizona, Santa Fe’s 80ish days and 50ish nights were a delight.  We watched a movie on the outdoor TV of the Iz one night, and needed fleece blankets to stay warm!

A 1928 Santa Fe Fiesta Program pronounced, “This year we are making a studied conscious effort not to be studied or conscious. Santa Fe is now one of the most interesting art centers in the world and you, O Dude of the East, are privileged to behold the most sophisticated group in the country gamboling freely.” That spirit remains in the town’s latter-day motto, “The City Different.”

We arrived here last Friday, and immediately explored the downtown area and Plaza.

The narrow streets are reminiscent of New Orleans…

…and, ohhhhh, the food!

Saturday, we went to a farmers and artists market in the nearby Railroad District (there’s regular train service between Santa Fe and Albuquerque).

After soaking up Santa Fe for a couple of days, we went to Taos on Monday.  The “High Road” there was a drive through some ultra-rural areas…and “galleries.”

As usual, the scenery and mountains were beautiful, and at one point we were over 8,000 feet in altitude as we drove through the Carson National Forest.

Taos is a mini-Santa Fe, but with a busy state highway running through the middle of it.  We got a geography lesson while we were there – the Rio Grande runs a few miles north of town, through a deep gorge.

A little farther north is the Earthship Biotecture Community, a zero-infrastructure housing concept that looks like a cross between the house Luke Skywalker’s parents lived in and a post-apocalypse commune.

On our way back to Santa Fe from Taos (via the Low Road, which hugged a river instead of mountains), we heeded our advice in a previous post to stop and investigate off-beat roadside scenes.  We found a museum devoted to old gasoline pumps and other car memorabilia.  Just one of the coolest places ever!

Thursday, we head north to Colorado on our way to Moab, Utah on Friday to begin our exploration of the southern Utah national parks.

By Jim.

“It’s not supposed to be this hot this early in the year.”

That’s the line we kept hearing in Phoenix, It was hot.  100-degrees-every-day-we-were-there hot.  Which didn’t stop us from having a blast (if that sounds like a double entendre suggesting a blast furnace, well…).

We arrived in Phoenix Monday afternoon to some eerie road karma.  As we drove through downtown, consecutive exits on the freeway were Dysart Road and Litchfield Road.  Then the first RV park we went to, in Scottsdale, was one turn off Earl Road.

Tuesday, we played golf with old friends from Connecticut, Ron and Mary Ellen Vance.

They live in a wonderful spot north of Phoenix called Mirabel.  The only problem with the day came when I nearly keeled over sideways on the 16th green.   An hour later, after three Gatorades, some saltines and M&Ms, a bit of quality time on a massage table and lots of ice, I was fine.  Advice to all of you readers – before playing golf in 100-degree heat, eat breakfast.

Wednesday, after Ginny fed me a breakfast that would have bloated an offensive tackle, we went to Mesa to play golf with Keith and Julie Meador, who recently moved from Snoqualmie to Las Sendas.  More great fun, including the drama of having a snake play through us on the first green.

We also had the good fortune of finding an RV repair place in Mesa that fixed a minor water leak on the Iz.  (It’s like a house – there’s always something.)

Thursday morning, we set off on Route 60 east of Phoenix, heading for New Mexico.

Route 66 is the famous one.  Route 60 deserves more love.

The road was a thoroughfare before Interstate 40 was built.  Now it’s a lightly-trafficked two-lane highway through amazing terrain…

…including a mini-Grand Canyon (Salt River Canyon), which we drove down (a 2,000-foot drop), through and back up (2,000 more feet)…

…and even a scorched-earth copper mine (which undoubtedly would be Scott Pruitt’s and Ryan Zinke’s favorite site on the drive).

The drive through Salt River Canyon was right up there with traversing the Pacific Coast Highway and the New Priest Grade, but with banked curves and better guardrails. The scenery in the canyon ran us out of superlatives.

We stopped Thursday night in Springerville, AZ, just short of the New Mexico border, because it was halfway between Phoenix and Santa Fe.  It seemed like a nice enough place until we went into town to buy some groceries, where we overheard two locals talking about how the town water supply is now contaminated.  We went home, turned off the local water feed into the rig (we had enough in our storage tank to suffice) and hit the road especially early Friday morning.

Route 60 isn’t just scenic, it can be user-friendly.  One 20-mile stretch Friday morning was never-move-the-steering-wheel straight.

During that part of the drive, we went past the National Radio Astronomy Observatory, which looked like a satellite dish farm connected to a Soviet-era blockhouse.

We were tempted to try to visit it, but it didn’t look all that welcoming.  We also made a mistake by not stopping in Pie Town, NM, population 186, where pie is served at five different roadside places.  We’ve been rushing from place to place so much, we misplaced our instinct to stop and explore offbeat spots.  We’ll do better, going forward.

We also crossed the Continental Divide, at 7,800 feet, on the Friday-morning drive.

Mid-afternoon Friday, we rolled into Santa Fe, one of the most anticipated pins on our map.  We’ll have more to report about it in future posts, but for the moment, all we’ll say is that the place makes a good first impression.

 

By Jim.

Today’s drive was another example of the remarkable diversity of California’s geography.  We’ve seen the Pacific Ocean, San Francisco Bay, redwood forests, the waterfalls and granite cliffs of Yosemite, sand dunes at Pismo Beach, vineyards and endless LA freeways.  This morning, we left San Diego’s ocean breezes, heading east on Interstate 8, where things got steadily hotter and dryer.

We didn’t know what to call this – Rocky Hill is a town in Connecticut and the Rocky Mountains are in Colorado, but it’s all rocks and it’s tall.

Soon we were in a total desert landscape.

We saw a massive solar farm just before the start of the irrigated farmland of the Imperial Valley

And then, without warning, politics intruded!  (You didn’t really think I was going to be able to resist broaching that subject in these pages, did you?) We saw a sign that the 45th President of the United States would not be happy about…

We didn’t realize how close to the border we were, until we saw what we think is the wall (not The Wall, but a wall, presumably paid for by America).

And a few miles later, our proximity to Mexico was confirmed..

Instead of taking that exit, we continued a few more miles and entered Arizona.

Then we stopped for the night in Yuma, which greeted us with 106 degrees!  On to Phoenix Monday.

By Jim.

We landed in San Diego late Friday night.  It was a blur of a week, and now we’re back on track after three days in Alabama.  Saturday, we hung with Gwen, working on such generational challenges as setting up an Instagram account…

…before getting into the spirit of the day – Cinco de Mayo – by heading into town to sip some local beer, where we were joined by Gwen’s brilliant and charming friend, Nikki.

Friday’s memorial service for DeWitte in Birmingham was a heart-warming tribute.  It was held in the chapel at Galleria Woods, where he and Mom have lived for almost ten years. They touched many lives there and a number of residents and staff members attended the service.  All members of the immediate family were there, and we especially enjoyed spending time with DeWitte’s son and his wonderful family.

Earlier in the week, before going to Birmingham to honor a life well-lived, we had a blast in Thousand Oaks, CA being Big Jimmie and GiGi to Mia, our adorable granddaughter, who shows us with every smile how much the world has to look forward to.

The highlight was taking Mia to a petting zoo and farm, where she had her first pony ride…

…checked out some birds…

…and loved riding the swings.

The Noel boys soooo love their little girl!

After two-and-a-half weeks in California (including our dogleg to Alabama), we head to Arizona Sunday.  We look back on some great memories we’ve made here, and look forward  to meeting up with friends from Connecticut (Tuesday) and Snoqualmie Ridge (Wednesday) in Scottsdale and Mesa for golf and good company!

By Jim.

Our trip is now paused, in tribute to a wonderful man and a tower of strength and character in our family.

DeWitte Cross, my stepfather and beloved husband of my mother for the past 20 years, passed away over the weekend.  Ginny and I are flying to Alabama Wednesday for a memorial service on Friday.

DeWitte was a Southern Gentleman.

He was unfailingly polite and courtly to everyone. He had a radiant smile, which was the usual expression on his face.  He had a resonant baritone voice and a splendid Southern accent.  His demeanor was warm and dignified.

He was a lifelong student.  Even in his 90s, he researched and made presentations to his fellow residents at Galleria Woods, their assisted living facility, about issues such as identity theft and scammers who prey on the elderly.  A natural leader, he was elected repeatedly by his peers to represent them in matters related to the governance and operation of the facility where they lived.

He had a passion for history (especially the Civil War) and was a wonderful storyteller.  He was a modest man who downplayed his military service in World War II (barely into his 20s, he was a navigation instructor for the Army Air Corps) and Korea.  He dreamed of being a doctor or lawyer, but instead became a successful entrepreneur and businessman in Birmingham and Atlanta.  His two children lived his dream – both became doctors.

DeWitte loved my mother and took care of her in their golden years.  They met in 1996 and married two years later. My mother adored him and he always made it clear that the feeling was mutual.  He was devoted to her.  Barely six months ago, when Mom was hospitalized, he spent all of his waking hours with her, even though it meant him driving (at age 94) several miles to and from her bedside.  As illness overtook him, his focus was still as much on her well-being as it was on his own.

Some would say DeWitte was a Gone With The Wind-like character – someone from a bygone era.  But the core traits he epitomized are timeless and represent the best of humankind – character, dignity, intelligence and genuine love for the people in his life.

I have respected DeWitte Cross almost as much as I have loved him.  He will forever be remembered as a wonderful man who lived life well.