July 6-9: MOAB, CANYONLANDS, ARCHES NP's

WEDNESDAY [click on pics to enlarge] Early up to get to Moab. Wind is blowing ferociously, as it did all night. Downed limbs litter the campground, but none hit us (especially the solar panel) during the night. Can't dump since the hose at the station is messed up, so we take off. At the campground entrance/exit we see a crew working to cut away a huge tree that split in half and just missed the host's trailer. We enjoyed the tailwind on I-70 up to the turnoff on state 19, but from then on it was a steady 30mph 90 degree crosswind on the 2-lane road south to Moab, with gusts to 40 or so. The rig actually tracked pretty well, but my hands were riveted to the steering wheel. At a high point on I-70 we got one-bar service, so picked up a message from Paul saying that he was going to be in Moab at the La Quinta. Saw our first arches off in the distance to the East as we approached Moab, which lies in a valley, making the entry rather scenic. Our AAA guide said Portal RV Resort (that's our spot in the picture above) had the best rates, so we pulled in there. It's just biking distance north of Moab's downtown, and not a particularly pretty campground (nice mountain views, though), but it suited us. We enjoyed e/w/c hookups, and it seemed almost decadent to have cable tv. $27.50 a night, which seems a little rich, but it was the least expensive place in the area. The local KOA wants $50+, and the campgrounds at the parks were full. We had clean showers and very friendly hosts, so thumbs up for Portal. Fired up the cell phone, now that we are in a "real" city (6,000?), and . . . . nada. Zilch. No signal at all. As we were to discover later, Verizon and AT&T come in just fine, but Sprint hasn't gotten around to here yet. Ironically, Sprint is the only one we can get at home, which is why we went with them. This trip has shown that they are very weak in Utah. Drove over to La Quinta to scare up Paul and, after we all did some provisioning, we took off in his car to tour Arches NP. That's "Balancing Rock," naturally; me standing under the largest of the Windows formations.

Amazing how many arch formations are concentrated in this area. Arches is mostly a drive-and-look park, with only a few hikes. We did take the one at the Windows area, which sports 5 or 6 arches and is well worth the brief trek. As we continued on into the park, we got splattered with a brief shower, which I figured would be just enough to mudspot the dust on Albatross if it was raining over there as well. [later: yup, Albatross is now a speckled tern] After finishing with Arches, we headed west a bit and headed for Canyonlands NP. Actually, we ended up at the Dead Horse Point state park just at the entrance. It had been billed as spectacular and it lived up to the press. A mini-grand canyon with a perfect view of the winding Colorado about 2,000 feet below. The wind had come back up, so standing on the edges elevated the heartrate more than usual. We had a hard time holding still enough to snap pictures. Paul and I have retreated to a discrete distance from the ledge. Loni appears to be standing in front of some Disney diaorama, but that's real life, folks. Paul dropped us at the RV and we changed clothes to join Paul at the Moab Brewery for dinner. this is a don't-miss place, with excellent beer (two pitchers and we were very happy) and generous portions of great food. The Jack Daniels sauce on the mammoth burgers was outstanding. We definitely were El Bloato afterwards. Major zzz's tonight.

THURSDAY Paul had booked a full-day Jeep-and-Riverboat trip today, so we're taking a down day to get the rig serviced at the local Ford dealer. We have about 1,200 miles on the clock, and I want to dump the oil and filter to get out the metal bits that flake off in a new engine, and we're overdue for a re-torquing of the lugnuts all around. They got us right in, took a couple of hours, and billed us the princely sum of $40! At a Ford dealer! That's easily an $80 tab back in LA. High marks for Utah! Paul's coming for dinner tonight, so back to the campground to prep. Pan-grilled salmon with homemade apple chutney. YUM. Paul brought a NZ Sauvignon Blanc and a Central Coast Viognier-Chardonnay combo from Qupe. Both were excellent and both were polished off. We take no prisoners. Paul's off tomorrow for points south, so we'll part ways, but he left us his Colorado materials on the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, which we've never heard of. Safe travels, bro, and Leges.

FRIDAY Yesterday, we booked an all day raft trip with Tag-a-Long Tours, one of about a dozen places offering variants of the same trips. Paul used them yesterday on his tours. We pedaled on over to their place at 8:00 and waited while our group formed up. We ended up a french couple, two families of 4, and us. We boarded an entirely disreputable Bluebird schoolbus that was on its third incarnation and had that gritty desert ambiance, towing a huge trailer with three inflatables stacked on it. They travel about twenty miles upriver to a put-in point, where we launched along with other tours from the competition. The Colorado here is fairly wide and slow moving. The trip was rated as rapids I to III, but frankly that seemed like a hype for New York tourists, of which we had some. It was more like 0 to I. Loni was happy nonetheless asthis was her first raft trip. We enjoyed great views as we lazed along. The guides pointed out rock formations that had been used in Jeep and Marine (the climber who morphs into a marine) commercials, and the ranch where the Johns Wayne and Ford shot several movies. The river here is brown as it carries ten times the silt as does the Mississippi, despite much less water volume. Don't drink the water! I began to regret not having a sediment filter on the rig's city water intake. Mental note to buy one. After braving the ripples, and putting in for lunch, we finished about 3:30 and got bussed back to the store. We decided that after a day in the sun there'd be no cooking tonight, so back to the park for showers and a change, and off to Miguel's Baja Grill. If this place was in LA, I'd be a regular. They don't just offer the usual Mexican choices of chicken, beef, and pork, but also lamb for any dish! Loni got the lamb enchiladas and I got the M.O.A.B. -- not the City, but the Mother Of All Burritos. We halved our dinners and split them. The MOAB comes with a choice of sauces. CHOOSE THE MOLE! I happen to like Oaxacan food because of the mole sauces, and we have some topnotch places in LA. But this dark mole was the best of its kind I've ever had. Smoky, chocolatey, and tangy. The margueritas are just so-so, but adequate. The owner came out after the waitress told him we were delerious with lip-smacking and we heaped some praise.Very nice folks. DO make this a stop if you are in Moab. After dinner we motored over to the local triplex for a showing of Pirates III. Yee-gods what dreck. An unfathomable mess. If this had been the first one, the franchise would have been stillborn. The highlight of the evening was our first drive at night in the rig, back to the camp. No sweat.

SATURDAY Rodeo Day! Slept in until 8:00, then watched the three or four endings of the Da Vinci Code on Cinemax while eating breakfast. You gotta take advantage of the amenities when you have em. This is some cable system. Gets not only Cinemax, but HBO, Starz, and Showtime! Biked into town to watch the rodeo parade. This truly is a small town; the parade was over in 15 minutes, but we loved it. Went over to the visitor center and loaded up on brochures, swung by the library for another abortive attempt to post on their free computers, bought some used books for the Albatross Library, and back to the rig for lunch. 91 degrees in the coach. Thank you, Dometic. The Belmont is coming up on the cable . . . and coming up . . . and coming up . . . zzzzzzzzz. Hey, who won? Early dinner of omelets and we then hoof it a mile to the free shuttle pickup at the nearest motel. The rodeo center is at the far end of the other side of town, way too far to bike, especially at night. Unfortunately, being at the end of this side of town, we stop at every motel, and wait at each for at least ten minutes. It takes will over an hour to travel the six miles or so. The arena is an early-dust-bowl indoor job, which seats several thousand. We skooch in, as everybody for many miles around has shown up for this annual event. Lots of cowboy hats, boots, and glad-handing going on. The honorary grand poobah of the rodeo (translation: the major donor) was paraded around the ring in the back of an old convertible. Now, you just have to see the sight of a 55 year-old Chinese transplant from Taiwan in full Gene-Autry regalia waiving his ten-gallon Stetson in a Utah rodeo ring to know you've crossed over into the twilight zone. Apparently he immigrated here 30 years ago and bought a local motel which he's managed ever since. That's him waiving from the car in the parade picture above. Yahooo, ah so! The rodeo itself was fun, but not great. I think this definitely is the B or C circuit, for both the riders and the animals. The first bronc froze in the stall with its rear end high on one wall and its body plastered to the back. Never came out. This happened several times over the evening. Only 2 of 12 bronc riders lasted the required 8 seconds, and none of the bull riders did. I hope they split the prize money. Anyway, a good time was had by all, including your smirking reporter.

June 3-5: CAPITOL REEF & GREEN VALLEY

SUNDAY [Click on any pic to enlarge.] As we have no reservations for Capitol Reef, we're again up early to get there before it fills up. Forded the not-so-raging Creek to exit the campground, and off again on Highway 12, not only designated a "Scenic Byway," but also an "All American Highway." Don't miss it. One stunning vista after another, and different from what came before. An amazing road. While ogling the scenery, we're climbing from 5400 feet to 9600 and I swear I can see the gas gauge actually moving in real time. This will not be a high-mpg leg of the trip. Stopped awhile in Boulder (Utah, not Colorado), which has the distinction of being the last place in the U.S. where mail was delivered by mule! There's a factoid for your next bar bet. This portion of highway 12, built by the CCC, includes the OMIGOODNESS "Hogback" section where the road knifes across the ridgeline with dropoffs on both sides. Loni got to close her eyes; not an option for me. Boulder has a nice museum on the Anasazi, which was open at 8:50 am on a Sunday morning! Utah does not want to miss a single tourist. We continued on up and up and the vegetation changed from sagebrush to Pinyon to Aspen and Pines. 9600 feet is up there! Gave the brakes a workout on the in-excess-of-10% downgrade. Have to say that I'm pleasantly surprised at the smooth and strong brakes on this Ford chassis. No hint of fade, but then I wasn't exactly flying down the hill.

We needn't have worried about no reservations as the Fruita Campground at Capitol Reef was only half full when we pulled in (although it filled up by the end of the day). We snagged a great spot with all-day shade, which is a blessing with our still-busted AC. We were scheduled to stay the next night at the lunar Goblin State Park, but Fruita was so nice we decided to forfeit that (for which we did have a $23 reservation) and stay an extra night at Fruita. This place is a true oasis of green. We biked the mile over to the visitor center and listened to a talk while looking at the 20' relief map of the area. On the ride back I nearly got sideswiped by a Class A which cut in a little too quickly. I hope he could read my lips in his mirror. The Fruita Campground occupies an old orchard farm, and still retains all the various trees: apples, peaches, cherries, apricots, and a single huge mulberry. Campers are welcome to pick a reasonable quantity of anything that is in season. The rangers even have stepladders out in the orchards. You're supposed to drop a buck or two in the iron warden for whatever you pick, and the cherries we got were well worth it.
The home of the former homesteaders here is now a mini-museum of their lives, and also sells locally made ice cream and pies. Ate two cups of delicious ice cream and bought a cherry pie for tonight. Yum. Back at the rig I unearthed the portable grill and tank and set them up. Grilled chicken legs were on the menu, but the dang grill wouldn't light. I think the orifices are clogged with that &$%!!@#(&%$ red dust from Kodachrome. On to Plan B, and cook in the coach. Solace arrives in the guise of a Bogle 04 Petit Sirah, with "Rhythm of the Saints" on the stereo.

MONDAY Cat cooperated last night so we got some very peaceful z's. Today we break out the bikes to tackle the 20 mile (round trip) Scenic Drive from the camp to the end of the paved road, down the valley formed by this part of the Reef. Pretty hot today, and we're starting at 5,500 feet. The Drive climbs for the first 5 miles to a "divide," then goes down 5 to the end. Loni was a trouper: almost nary a discouraging word. What she couldn't ride, she walked. Everything seems magnified when you're biking instead of in a car. We started way beyond those cliffs you see in the background. Having made it to the Slickrock Divide halfway point, uh, a discussion(!) ensued along the lines of "what goes down must come back up." But, in the words of the immortal Shad, we are "dead game sports," so we press on. It sure was nice to virtually coast the next 5 miles. Ate lunch at the end, sporting our electrified petroglyph bibs, spotted a mountain sheep clambering around, and headed back. That's Loni posing in front of the "Egyptian Temple" formation. Suffice to say we enjoyed the part again AFTER the Slick Rock Divide. Coasting home, we hit camp, didn't break stride, and made a beeline for the ice cream store. After loading up on essential fats and carbs, we headed across the highway to the Petroglyphs. They've been around for up to 700 years or so, and some are still impressively clear human and animal figures. On the way back we stopped at the Mulberry tree, which was loaded with overripe fruit --- as in delicious. It was so soft it nearly disintegrated the moment you picked it, so taking it home was out. But, I managed to stuff enough into my mouth to satisfy my sweet tooth. My hands were stained burgundy for days afterwards. They taste like blackberries with a hint of a bite. Spent the rest of the afternoon with 1776, marveling at how Washington made so many heroically bad tactical decisions. The man was a great actor, doing a marvelous job of inspiring the troops while leading them into one disaster after another. Oh well, we're all here and we don't have to kiss the Queen's patootie. He did all right in the end. Dinner tonight is Top-Ramen gala-- the boxed noodles with added fresh spinach, veggies, and chicken, washed down with a Moab Brewery Scorpion Ale for the hopheads among us. We wandered the campground afterwards and found an interesting mix. Mormon family of 5 in a trailer, a solitary man in a beat-up van camper who strums the guitar and sings softly, a french couple, a dutch couple, two elderly U.S. pairs, one in an old Toyota RV and the other in a 40' bus, three Harley riders with the obligatory sleeveless vests and long hair, pitching tents, and the young tent couple behind us who practice yoga twice a day. It does take all kinds, thank goodness.

TUESDAY Liesurely departure this morning. Couldn't dump the tank properly as the camp's water wand hose was defective, doing a knockout job of spraying me with nothing coming out the business end. Bid farewell to the icecream/pie house and moved out. The road is nice for a short while, but we obviously were descending into much less dramatic stuff. We spotted tonights destination, Green River, from a high point and it certainly is as described: an oasis in the desert. A patch of green in a lot of brown. Once we get there, the town is largely a collection of gas stations (some abandoned) and motels (some which look abandoned but are indeed still open for business). All in all, a big zero on the charm scale, attractive only by comparison to the wasteland that surrounds it. We took no pictures. The eponymous state park is a grove of cottonwoods adjacent at one small point to the Green River, which is surprisingly wide. Where's all the water coming from in the midst of a drought? This is a "down" day for laundry and haircuts. We find a nice laundry, and the haircuts are al fresco at our campsite. The ever-increasing winds took care of most of the cleanup. Supposed to rain tonight and have fierce winds. Hmmmm. Under a cottonwood tree? We took off for the ONLY attraction in town, the John Wesley Powell museum. I have to admit, it was quite good. A lot larger and more professionally done than I expected to find here. If you're passing through, do stop. Afterwards, we tried the cell, and got in-and-out one bar service. Managed to pick up 5 messages from Paul, who's roaming through Colorado, but headed for Moab like we are. Hopefully we'll get some service in Moab. Haven't had any for a week. Got ready to crash and, hark! What's that? Not a cow. Nope, it's a train. The tracks are about 100 feet away, and the engineer is fulfilling his legal and quite useless obligation to blow his horn at crossings for the "traffic," of which there is none. And, did I say the wind was picking up?

May 31-June 2 ESCALANTE & CALF CREEK

THURSDAY. Woke up early to a regular "kafoooosh" sound going on and off. Ten minutes of pondering and I rolled out to investigate. Well, crawled out. Rolled out is a no-no for the overcab sleeper. The sound was coming from the outside. Opened the door to a crystalline blue sky and a brightly colored hot air balloon moving serenely by. The kafoosh, of course was the burner going off and on. Snapped a couple of pics as it drifted down and out of sight. Since we're in the middle of nowhere, hard to figure where it came from or was landing. Breakfasted and out to take on the Panorama trail to Panorama Point. No breeze today, so fairly hot slogging across ravines and hills to the Point, which is a mound of earth high enough to give a good view of the west end of the park. Back to the rig, buttoned everything up, and off to Escalante. Stopped in Cannonville in a little park to have lunch, surrounded by dozens of local high-schoolers celebrating "Cindy"'s birthday. Ther was a certain innocence of spirit that reminded me of my Modesto days many years ago, and which seems quite lacking in Los Angeles teens.

The drive to Escalante is along highway 12, which is designated a scenic highway for good reason. Spectacular views at every turn, and we stopped often. Arrived at Escalante State Park, checked in, and took off to the adjacent town to get groceries and precious fluids which, again thanks to Utah laws, can't be bought in the same place. The produce section at the only grocery store was all of six feet long --- for everything! But, surprizingly, we got excellent tomatoes, strawberries, and bananas. Back at the park we found the entrance blocked by five trailer rigs that were traveling together and all checking in at the same time. Killed the engine and sat for 20 minutes. Serenity, now. Then, 35 minutes of crawling behind on the single lane road as each one made multiple attempts to fit into its space. Bottled serenity, NOW! Once installed at our site, we found the park quite nice. It's at 5,500 feet, with grass instead of grit, and a 145 acre lake. Took four blocks high in the front to get level. Chicken-veggie-noodle stir-fry for dinner, washed down by the last of Paul's wines, an Adelaida Rhone-style blanc. Oh, yes. Leges, Pablo. A great station out of Logan is playing good soft rock mixed with old standards -- Tony Bennett, Sinatra, etc. Might as well finish the bottle as we're well beyond half way. Serenity achieved. Life is good. About 10:00 we made our way through the dark down to the pier on the lake. We had it to ourselves, and a full moon was rising behind and through some low cowboy clouds, with the rest of the sky clear. Absolutely beautiful, silent night. A magical moment. Then, "Marrrrroooooouh." "Marrrrrooooough." Ah, the haunting bellow of the night-cow, floating across the lake from some pasture over thataway. We burst out laughing. Talk about a spellbreaker. To bed.

FRIDAY Cat active all night. Going to have to keep her moving more during the day. Escalante is the home of a petrified forest, so we're off on the trail to view the ancient wood. Pretty neat stuff. Some pieces even show the growth rings, all in minerals, of course. Hiked for a while with a nice young couple from Germany who are touring the west in a rented RV. After finishing the hike, we rode the bikes over to the Interagency (BLM, National lparks, Forest SErvice, etc) Center in the town. Very nice displays including some microscope stations for examining the cyanobotic structures in the local rock. Very neat. Son Mike, the geologist, would like this. Loafed the rest of the afternoon and watched a large group of Dads and Sons (all of whom seemed to be about 5 years old) move in and set up tents. At least four of them had bright red hair. Took advantage of the stellar bath facilities here to take a liesurely shower with plenty of hot water. Utah State Parks appear to be very well run and have excellent bathroom and shower facilities, even heated for night or cold weather use. Sinach, cheese and tomato omelets for dinner tonight, with half a bottle of cab that we had been sitting on for too long. Logan is plaing Nat King Cole, etc, so all is well. No moos. Loni trounced me in gin rummy. ZZZ.

SATURDAY Up at 6:30, off the blocks, dump tanks, and into Escalante for provisions. Out again on fabulous highway 12. DO take this road. Loni declines the generous offer to drive the serpentine, corkscrew descent through beautiful canyons. She gets to sit shotgun and peer over the dropoffs on that side. We only go about 15 miles from Escalante and pull into the Calf Creek BLM campground. We were alerted to this by a guidebook that said the waterfall hike was great. The campground is tiny -- only 13 spaces -- placed on both sides of Calf Creek with a submerged roadway through the Creek. We had to ford over it to get the only available spot, # 7, which was quite fine. I walked back to pay the fee, casually disregarded the warning sign at the ford: "extremely slippery due to moss," and proceeded to pirouette my way across. Nothing damaged but dignity, which already was in short supply. We took off on the hike to Lower Calf Creek Falls, six miles round trip. Despite the sandy slogging on much of the trail, this is a gorgeous hike, with steep walls that look like a sandstone Yosemite with multiple half domes. The falls were worth the effort. 126 feet high spilling down a mossy cliffside. It was at least 25 degrees cooler in the waterfall cleft, and with a steady breeze generated by the water. The Dads and Boys from Escalante were all here as well, and kudos to those kids for toughing out the slogging trail. Lunch (nuts and apple) at the falls, then back to the rig for some down time. Stretch out on one of the couches and continue my reading of McCulloug's "1776," an account of the early days of the Revolution, focusing on George Washington. It's a miracle this country ever got birthed with all of the bad decisions being made by you-know-who. Dinner is sticky rice-ham-corn-bell pepper-broccoli hash. Trust me. It tasted much better than it sounds, and matched quite well, thank you, with a Heineken. No cows along the Calf Creed, just the sound of rushing water to . . . zzzzzzzzz.

KODACHROME: MAY 28-30

MONDAY: We leave Bryce today, so all the ATV's have decided to pull out as well. I'd like to pick em off as they motor by. Anger management, anyone? We hit the laundry and another failed attempt to get something posted. The machine is working better, but I seem to have forgotten my log-in for the blog. Augh! As the senior Costanza said: "Serenity, Serenity NOW." I think I'll quit torturing myself and leave all computer stuff until we get home. Ahhhhhh. Ommmmmm. We packed up, dumped tanks, got propane, and topped off the gas. Urk. 8 mpg? I don't believe that any more than the alleged 10.75 earlier. As we sat in the gas station lot gazing at the map, a shadow fell over my left side. I looked over and zounds! Another LazyDaze. Meet Jerry and Marian from South Carolina in their 3-week-old 26' mid-bath model, "Orion." They're slowly making their way cross country after picking up their rig. They're headed to Kodachrome, which happens to be our next stop, but they're going to do laundry and emails first. We'll meet them there. Short trip to the thriving community of Tropic, where we groceried, and on to Kodachrome. We've found that the grocery stores in these small towns are usually pretty good on the basics, as they deal a lot with transients like us. Surprisingly, we get better prices here on things like fresh blueberries, breads, and tomatoes than we do at home. Meats seem to be all frozen and all from some local packer in Moab. We traveled the short distance to Kodachrome State Park, so-named by a National Geographic team in 1948 that did an article here (they got permission from Kodak). This is pretty desolate, although beautiful, country. Our reso was waiting and we got what apparently is a primo spot (#13) at the far end of the campground. The ranger said some guy had been calling for days, pleading to get that spot. Tough! We made sure there were enough openings for Jerry & Marian, as they didn't have a reso, and drove in. This will be our first "dry-camp" experience (without any water or electric hookups), so we're looking forward to giving the solar a workout. Assembled our cheapo new Weber gas grill (insert rod A through hole D . . .), figured out the gas hookups, and we're good to go. Pork loins with sweet potatoes, sauteed onions and mixed veggies. The chef at Bryce should take lessons from us. A couple of local ales, watch the sun go down, listen to the Chukka partridges scooting about, good books until bedtime, and lights out.
TUESDAY: Kodachrome is set in a box-bowl canyon whose hills are fairly unremarkable, although steep. The interest here are the, um, phallic formations that dot the landscape, formed by lava that pushed up through surrounding rock, which surrounds then eroded away, leaving the lava column. This campground is called the jewel of the Utah park system. I have to say the facilities are excellent. Ultra-clean bathrooms and showers with plenty of hot water. We'll take advantage of those as a break from the Navy "showers" that we take in the coach. The downside is that the terrain is pure red dust. Tiny dust. Powdery dust. The kind that, when the wind blows, GETS INTO EVERYTHING. Guess what happens every afternoon? You betcha. You have to close the windows because it even comes through the screens. We find this out the hard way. I can only imagine what will happen when we start off and I apply the disc brakes for the first time. Ouch. Went out and did some hiking on the Angel's Palace Trail and the nature trail, the latter nicely laid out with numbered stops and a guide pamphlet for the trees, shrubs, rock formations, termite mounds, and all the highlights. Stopped off at Orion on the way back and agreed to have a potluck with Jerry and Marian. Popped some brews in the fridge, Loni made chicken soft tacos, and we went a-calling. Marian's multi-bean salad went perfectly with the tacos and the beers went fine with everything, especially the nonstop conversation. Ever meet folks that you instantly strike a rapport with? We had a great evening. Jerry teaches computer science at College of Charleston, and Marian just retired as a technical writer and editor. We had amazingly similar outlooks and interests ranging from wives who love to cook, husbands who do the dishes, air shows, Star Trek, children with dissimlar natures, Mac computers, and, of course, LD's. fun people to know and we hope to stay in touch and cross paths again. They have a Dustyfoot setup for internet connection since they both spend time every day online.
WEDNESDAY: the Hound of the Baskervilles barked and bayed all night at anything and nothing. We could hear the owner trying to quiet him so, short of eviction, there was not much to be done. Daylight revealed a hyper Irish Setter with a baritone voice in the next campsite over. If they're staying, we'll have a few words, and hopefully no repeat. Breakfasted and broke out the bikes, de-dusted them as well as we could, and set out for Chimney Rock, about three miles each way. It looked like paved road on the map, but turned out the last two miles were not-too-smooth gravel. We bumped along, enjoying the absolute silences and the panoramic views, including almost the entire Bryce ridge off to the West. Chimney rock turns out to be just a fatter version of the other columns, but stands out in the open with nothing else around. As we were shooting photos from a distance, three beefy guys arrived in an SUV and seemed intent on examining something around the side of the rock. We strolled over as they moved on around, to see what was so interesting. There were names and dates carved in the rock, including one that said: "Willis and Sears, Aug 4, 1918." As we were looking at it, one of the three came back around and pointed at the "Willis." "My grandfather," he said. We had a nice chat with him, his brother, and son. His grandfather had been some sort of surveyor, and his father worked for the Park Service. He and his brother grew up in Bryce, Zion, and the Grand Canyon. Wow. Better than L.A.! Back to camp and checked with Jerry and Marian, who were stowing their gear to move on. Safe trip! Our evening entertainment tonight is the wailing of not one, but two infants from the same campsite on the other side of us. No hound. This goes on for a full two hours before (a) they fell asleep, or (b) their parents killed them. My preference shall go unstated. So much for the primo camping spot!

BRYCE CANYON: MAY 24-27

THURSDAY
Breaking camp. Lower the tv antenna, unhook water & electric, close all storage bins. Good to go. Hey, what's that guy waiving about? Oops, left our portable propane tank (for the grill) on the ground behind the rig. Dumped tanks without drama and climbed East out of the canyon towards the rim and the pay-as-you-go tunnel. We ended up # 1 in line. Ranger checked our "escort fee" receipt and when the time came he just waived us on and said "steer down the middle." Hmmm. Just like ship handling class at Navy OCS. So much for our "escort." We led the way and more or less kept the rig on the center line and passed through without a hitch. Neat tunnel. Has cut-out "windows" along the canyon side so every so often you get a view. Nice work by the CCC in the 1930's. More nice scenery along the way, no-traffic roads, tiny intersection towns, and beautiful high plateau views. First stop was Red Canyon, the start of the "hoodoos" that we would see more of at Bryce. On to Bryce and check-in at Ruby's RV Park, where I had made reservations by phone from Vegas. The Bryce campground was full-up, this being Memorial Day weekend. The reso guy said we might have to move each night, as they were full as well, but that's not a big deal. We got checked in to a site between two Class A behemoths with all the bells and whistles. Open space across the gravel road supposedly for tents, but no one was there. Very peaceful. This was to change . . . .
FRIDAY (click on a photo to enlarge)
The camp office had the weather forecast posted and warned us yesterday that temperatures could go below freezing last night, so we disconnected the water supply to avoid burst hoses, etc, and kept the heat strip (the only part of our AC unit that works) on all night. That proves to be a noisy option as it cycles the fan on and off all night. We'll have to look into catalytic heaters or something in the future. Had breakfast with the peaceful view out back (da dum, da dum, dum da dum da . . ) and then hauled our sacks up to the laundry where we also found two pay-for-time internet terminals. Time to do some blogging. Not! Put in my $5 for 25 minutes and the fun(?) began. Every operation took minutes to load; every change of screen took minutes to accomplish. This appears to be a great way to make money. Gave up after reading only two emails in 18 minutes, complained, and got my money back. That's the screen of death on the left. Lady next to me had no problems with hers, so mine must have virus-mania. No blogging today (or, as it turned out, at any time during the whole trip). The park is essentially one long road that leads south from our campground. The entrance is a couple of miles down. Actually, up, as the road gently rises as it goes south. Today is opening day for the park shuttle service, so we plan on taking the bikes on the shuttle about halfway down, and riding back. That's Loni waiting at the Ruby's stop. Of course, the first shuttle had no rack; the second came early while I was back getting water, and the third took its time. Sigh. Loaded, boarded and off to Bryce Point for our first view. Wow. There's nothing like this anywhere else in the world. Rows of hoodoos. Amphitheatres of hoodoos. All colors of hoodoos. So, what's a hoodoo? Ahem: "A pillar of rock, usually of fantastic shape, left by erosion. Debris, borne by water runoff, scours softer rock and creates gullies. harder rock is left behind as vertical fins. As gullies widen into canyons, fins become exposed to more erosion at vertical cracks. Freezing water expands within the cracks in winter, peeling off layers and carving out vertical pillars --- the hoodoos."
End of today's lesson. Bryce Point is at 8,000+ feet, so we're happy to coast down to the main road and . . . urk, climb uphill to the succeeding Inspiration, Sunset, and Sunrise Points. At least we can coast down from each. All have unique views and we don't want to miss any. Unfortunately, the main road here is open to cars, so we have to pay attention and hope that they are as well. Stopped at the Park Lodge, but wasn't impressed. Although done in the 30's by the CCC, it has no grandeur of space inside, nor any scenic view, being back a ways from the rim. Since we were to meet our friend, Paul, for dinner, we made reso's at the dining room for 8:15, the earliest we could get. Huffed and coasted our way back to camp to relax for a while. Yikes! What happened to the serenity? We've been invaded by dozens of ATV's of all shapes and sizes, seemingly using us as the encircled wagon while they go round and round like mechanized Indians. We are to endure this racket for the next three days whenever we're at the rig. This area is a big off-road draw as there are trails everywhere. Why aren't they out THERE instead of HERE? Memo to selves: avoid ATV areas on national holiday weekends. Connected with Paul by cell phone (this is one of the very few areas on our whole trip where we had any coverage at all), and he had just checked into a nearby motel. No rving for him! He picked us up and we had a nice enough dinner at the lodge, at least after I sent back my nuked pork chops and asked for some underdone ones. A bottle of 3 Blind Moose Merlot at 3X retail price took the edges off, and the replacement chops were perfect. They can do it right if you make them.
SATURDAY: Hiking Day. ATV's still zipping about. I'd like to put a knife in a few tires. Met up with Paul & drove in his car to Sunset Point to start the Navajo Loop-Queen's Garden combo trail. We first stopped to listen to a ranger talk about the geology of the area. Big mistake. He wanted to aim his talk at the kids and delivered a s-l-o-w monologue, sort of a cross between Mr. Rogers and the dummy in Spielberg's "Goonies" movie. Politeness trapped us for the duration, then we were off. This is a beautiful hike, dropping rapidly into the hoodoo amphitheatre, past the standout "Thor's Hammer" hoodoo and through a slot canyon. Couldn't view all of the Wall Street Canyon as a rock slide closed it a couple of years ago. We meandered through a wonderland of hoodoo shapes, culminated by the Queen Victoria hoodoo -- and damn, it really did look like the old bat. Four hours later we were done, and back for a rest. At least I rested; Loni set about getting ready for dinner as Paul was to come over with wine as our first dinner guest in Albatross. Loni baptized the oven with chicken Dijon and side dishes. No canned stew for us! Paul, bless his soul, brought a styrofoam container with 3 very nice bottles that he had transported from his home in San Luis Obispo. He's the local oenophile, and knows all the servers at the tasting rooms personally. We LIKE to visit Paul! We killed two, one white and one red, and saved the third for another time. Good thing Paul's motel was very close by. Even better thing: we didn't have to go anywhere except to bed. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
SUNDAY Ahhh, nature. We are wakened by the bucolic sounds of . . . ATV's. Bwaaaaat. . pop pop pop bwaaaaaaat. Can't people enjoy nature on their own two legs? I suppose tent campers look at us and say, "Can't people enjoy nature without . . ." Had breakfast and joined Paul in his car for a tour of all of the overlooks along the 14 miles of the south end of the park beyond Bryce Point. We stopped at Rainbow, Yovimpa, Black birch, Ponderosa, Agua Canyon, Natural Bridge, Piracy, and Swamp Canyon overlooks. Each had a unique view of the canyon and we never got bored at any stop. We re-did our first day stops as Paul hadn't seen them yet this trip. All of these are around 8,800 feet, so moving around was a bit breathless as well as breathtaking. We have hundreds of pictures to cull. Back to our respective abodes for a little downtime and get ready for dinner out. Went off with Paul in search of Bryce Canyon Pines that appeared in his Fodor's guidebook. Found it west on the main road about four miles out. We're licking our chops at the sign that says "Famous For Our Soups and Pies." Well, folks, fame is a fleeting thing, doesn't travel far, etc. etc. Fairly decent broccoli soup, fairly hideous pies of any description. Marie Calendar isn't sweating. Not up to even Mrs. Smith's frozen standard. Heck, even I can make a better pie (and have!). Bid farewell to Paul as he is going to Colorado and Rocky Mountain National Park, while we meander more through Utah. We hope to meet up again at Canyonlands/Arches near Moab.