Day 28 – May 1 continued

We walked for a while along the rim of the canyon stopping frequently to take pictures but feeling challenged to take in the magnitude of this place. It is truly one of the most incredible demonstrations of natural beauty that I have ever seen and the quiet that overcame our normally vocal group spoke volumes of our shared impressions.

We returned to our campsites and the quickly dropping temperatures. The warmth of the afternoon was fading and we retreated to our respective RT’s to add some layers. Snacks around a pre dark campfire and then we retired to the spaciousness and warmth of the BRT for our first full complement communal supper of Greek chicken fajitas – don’t ask for the recipe, it’s one of those nonrecreatable dishes. As we are dry camping for two days we were trying to conserve power so a variety of flashlights appeared and were pressed into service, creating a very pleasant dining atmosphere with great friends.

Day 29 – May 2

A somewhat sluggish start after perhaps partying a bit too late the night before saw us heading to catch one of the park shuttle buses just before 10:00. In a very successful effort to reduce traffic congestion in the park three interconnecting loops of free shuttle busses make all parts of the park easily accessible. Our plan was to hike the South Kaibab Trail partway into the canyon. A surprisingly narrow path, whose edge is marked only with a row of boulders winds its way down the sides of the vertiginous cliffs, absent of any form of guardrail. It is a well worn path, with many rocks and imbedded logs creating steps in some of the steeper inclines required close attention to footing, which was contradictory to our desire to absorb the incredible scenery that surrounded us. Literally one false step could be your last. Although you might not actually fall all the way to the bottom of the canyon, the fall to the next fetch up point below would probably suffice to dispatch all but the most rubbery of hikers or leave survivors wishing that they hadn’t.

An additional challenge was presented by the trains of donkeys that were ascending from the canyon bottoms. Signs advise hikers to keep to the cliff side when confronted with an approaching train. The signs seemed absolutely unnecessary to me as only someone with a death wish would try to stay anywhere but pressed into the cliff side as these animals and riders passed. In future years geologists may puzzle at the butt-like impressions in the cliff face that I left as I avoided these slow moving beasts.

Breathtaking view after breathtaking view presented themselves as we walked down into the trail. Slowly the multiple layers of clothing that the cold early morning temperatures required began to be peeled off in response to the effort of hiking and as the heat of the day built and the wind felt at the rim subsided.

This is not a trail I would recommend for sufferers of vertigo. There were many spots when we opted to hug the cliff wall rather than stare over the edge and there were places where the path seems to disappear into space as you round a switchback corner. Keeping in mind that the trip up was going to be more far more arduous than the descent we hiked down for about an hour before stopping for our lunch on a little flat spot at the end of a switch back. We agreed that our simple sandwiches, water and fruit took on a special quality at what may be the most spectacular and yet at the same time most simple venue we might ever eat at with its rock chairs and tables.

Our ascent back to the rim was paced and less taxing than we had anticipated. The late afternoon was filled with various chores, showers, blog updates and possibly a stolen nap or two. We planned to take one of the shuttle buses along the rim to a vantage point noted for its views of the sunset. With a combination of good timing and blind good fortune we caught the last bus for Hermit’s Rest and arrived at one of the several view points along the route to a ‘click’ of photographers who, with cameras running the gamut from IPhones to a 120 film Hasselblad, were poised to capture the moment. I have decided that the collective noun for a group of photographers should be a ‘click’ – in an earlier entry I referred to a group of ‘Birders Americanus’ with the collective noun clutch. After some reconsideration and closer observation of the species I have decided to change that noun to a ‘gawk’, my apologies).

As the sun descended parts of the cliff sides were painted in ever deepening shades of pink and red while others passed into darkness. The finale of the show was the explosion of pinks in the few clouds overhead, contrasting against the ever deepening shades of blue in the canopy of sky beyond. Another unique and spectacular view of the Grand Canyon.

Sean and Carla provided steak for dinner. In fact steak doesn’t do this cut of meat justice, it would have been quite at home in the Fred and Wilma’s kitchen in our earlier Flintstone campsite and was beautifully prepared by Sean on his shiny new barbecue. Again, low temperatures moved us into the BRT which, with appropriate choreography, can host 6 for supper. The added bonus was the preheat all those bodies provided prior to an anticipated near freezing temperature overnight.

Day 27 – April 30

With one day to rendezvous we were well positioned and had a leisurely breakfast before departing to a couple of the local scenic attractions. We had several options but after a discussion with the camp host we decided upon Jerome and Sedona. He told us that there were opposite ends of the spectrum of tourist towns, Jerome being a historic mining town turned artisans village while Sedona was a high end shopping town for the well heeled citizens of Phoenix. Although we thought that we would probably blend in more at Jerome we had time to check out both before finding a overnight spot close to the Grand Canyon.

Jerome was just as it had been described with funky craft stores and art galleries and a lot of artists who may have seen the 70’s but sure weren’t ever going to be able to remember them.

We had lunch at a restaurant that specialized in hamburgers but we were unanimous in our opinion that the offerings were at best pedestrian and at worst reheated burgers, a disappointment to a group that punctuates it day with convivial meals.

After Jerome it was a short hop to Sedona. Our camp host guide had mentioned the scenery but we were taken aback as we rounded a curve to a wall of beautiful red mountains set off by the contrasting green pine and hardwood forests. As promised this was a very upscale little city. The downtown was lined with trendy shops offering everything from complete cowboy outfits, including gun holsters to very upscale jewellery stores promising the best of native art, they didn’t specify natives of which country however. The downtown was very low scale, two stories at most so views of the surrounding red mountains were unobstructed, making for a very pleasant walk.

As time pressed on we decided that we would head for Flagstaff, further west and look for some camping site that would provide us with an easy jumping off point for the next days run into the Grand Canyon and our long awaited rendezvous with Family # 2. Access to wi fi has been limited so we are not sure of their location but are confident that all will go as planned. As we drove through Flagstaff, quite a small town, we fuelled up and headed out on highway 180, ever watchful for some camping site. We saw a couple of sites for tents only as we drove along a very narrow highway, sheer high cliffs on one side and oncoming traffic on the other with no shoulder to speak of. The odd cyclist on the road also added to the excitement for Diane and Ike as they drove. At one point I had to pull in the passengers side mirror for fear of decapitating some hapless cyclist.

The drive was beautiful and as we suddenly emerged from the forested climb onto the plains approaching the canyon we were treated to the best sunset of the trip, thanks to the swirling clouds on the western horizon. As dark started to engulf us however we began to abandon hope that there was going to be any intervening camp sites before we arrived a day prematurely at the Grand Canyon. As reservations are recommended all year at this popular site we did not have any confidence that a site would be available.

However at the intersection with the 64 we saw the Fred Flintstone Camp Grounds. Yabb Dabba Do the sound pronounced. Yes alarms went off, but it was late and the notions of parking alongside the road may have effected our otherwise sound decision making. We were not deterred by the decor of the office and adjacent Wilma’s laundry done in ‘cave’ style complete with curved walls and rounded door openings. mercifully the attendant was not dressed in furs and did not have bones tied to any part of his body.

However, benefiting from previous experience, examinations of the washrooms preceded our decision to bed down in Bedrock. Still feeling full from the generous if unexciting lunch at Jerome we opted for snacking before turning in.

Day 28 – May 1

The light of dawn revealed the magnitude of our nocturnal decision. The 8 foot wall surrounding the ‘theme park’ component of this site formed the backdrop of our venue. The wall was white stucco with fake rocks painted on its surface in a unnatural palette of brown, orange, red, purple and blue. The wall was punctuated at about 10 foot intervals with columns that projected above the top of the wall fashioned to look like dinosaur bones. The mind reels at what clever devices lay beyond the confines of the enclosure forever scarring the minds of the youthful visitors. I chose not to investigate, confident that those wonders exceeded even my wildest expectations, set by the standards of the architectural efforts demonstrated in the office and wall.

Ike risked a shower and surprisingly advised that the shower head was not in fact a mastodon trunk thrust in through the window. A mere $1 afforded him 5 full minutes of luke warm water in a shower enclosure with a working floor drain, better than at least one previous venue we had settled in for the night. Serial readers of the blog will recall the ‘Western Skies Incident’ of Day 24, forever burned into our collective memories.

While Diane busied herself eliminating the backlog of our laundry, mercifully carried out in modern machines rather than the anticipated beating of clothes riverside on the rocks, Jane prepared a sumptuous group breakfast of pancakes with strawberries and Vermont Grade A medium amber maple syrup that we had purchased earlier in the trip. I find we compensate for our surroundings with our meals, the more dismal the site the better the food. Ike was busy trying to remove from their carpet the remnants of the flour and water mixture that had exploded from one of the LRT’s cupboards the previous day. Had the carpet been a bit thinner we would have considered just adding some toppings and throwing it into the oven as the mixture was well on its way to becoming well kneaded dough by the time the accident was discovered.

We chose to eat in the BRT despite the clear skies and warming temperatures as the ‘campsite’ really looked more like an abandoned drive in theatre than a place to have breakfast. The hook up posts where water and power are provided tilted from the grass less terrain at a variety of angles, none of them 90, and resemble the speaker stands of the aforementioned drive in theatre that had been struck one time too many by departing movie goers.

However on the positive side the sites were level and there was a dumping station. We were on the road by 11:00 for the short haul to the Grand Canyon. After a stop in the beautiful visitors centre where we watched a couple of movies explaining both the recent and geological history of the canyon we proceeded to the administrative building where there was wi-fi to check on the status of Sean and Carla. There was an email from Carla from the previous day explaining that they planned to take an early morning helicopter tour of the canyon. We spent some time checking up on emails and then headed to the campgrounds to check in. As we were waiting in line to confirm our reservations Sean and Carla drove into the parking lot.

Following a brief but vocal reunion we followed them to the campsite as they had already checked in. The expected exchange of stories ensued as we sat around enjoying the sunlight in the coolish temperatures of this altitude.

Our conversation was interrupted as an elk slowly grazed through the adjacent site. I had seen a sign earlier about not leaving ropes or clothes lines between the trees unattended due to the elk getting tangled. After seeing the size of this elk it would have to be a heavy rope and a very large tree to slow it down. Never having seen an elk up close before we were all amazed at its size. It was as big as a horse, and totally unconcerned about our presence. Although that nonchalance provided us with a great opportunity to observe the animal it was at the same time a bit disconcerting as the park information warned about approaching closer than 100 feet of the elk and deer in the spring mating season. Clearly, unlike the rattlesnakes of Gila, this elk couldn’t read so we kept a wary eye on it as it meandered through the adjacent sites.

We then all piled into the MRT and drove to the primary observation point for the canyon where Families # 1 and 3 were treated to their first views of the canyon. Here is words and even pictures fail to capture the magnitude of this wonder. Stretching as far as you can see is the expanse of the canyon with its multi coloured straitions marking the eons of sedimentation and geological upheavals that gave birth to the canyon. From the observation building we were afforded a 180 degree view of this section of the canyon. As we were on the south rim the view is across to the north rim, which is less developed and at about 8,000 feet elevation, a full 1,000 feet higher than the south rim.

Day 25 – April 28

We were on the road early, once again winding down from the heights of the ridge of the Continental Divide. The 35 proved to be a much more driver challenging road even though the slopes in places where just as attention grabbing as on the 15.

At one point up ahead we saw what appeared to be some sort of open pit mine. As we approached we were amazed at the size of the operation and pulled over to have a closer look. It was a copper mine that had been in operation for over 200 years. Looking to the far side of the excavation you could see puffs of smoke, indicating some sort of activity. I returned to the BRT to bring back my man sized binoculars. These aren’t your average ‘let’s take a look at that bird – binoculars’ they are for star gazing and would be better described as ‘you better put on your neck brace bubba before strapping these bad boys on – binoculars’. I have been accused of some compensation issues.

Upon closer observation we came to see that these little puffs of dust were caused by some monster excavators and 80 ton capacity trucks. Only then did we realize the scale of the hole we were looking into. The interpretive panel at the observation point noted that after the mining operations ceased New Mexico law required that the site be ‘restored’ but that signs of mining activity would always be present. As I looked at the tiny trucks moving around the bottom of the pit I imagined that would be the case.

Our next stop was Silver City. There is also a town called Vanadium and another called Radium Springs, which probably glows in the dark – part of the reason we decided to visit Silver City instead. Signs along the road had promoted Silver City as having dozens of galleries and shops. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your perspective, most of these shops were closed on Sunday and we were kept from temptation. We did have a great lunch at a restaurant interestingly named ‘Diane’s Parlor’ and luckily for us their cooking lived up to that name. Diane had what she declared as the best Eggs Benedict (other than mine of course) that she had ever had.

As we left the mountains and began driving across the desert heading for Phoenix we noted several plumes of dust on both sides of the road. At first they looked like what you would see from a vehicle driving along a dusty road but we soon realized that they were dust devils, little wind vortexes, sort of mini tornadoes. Now these aren’t the ‘I’m going to blow you and all of your stuff to Oz’ scale but they form the same kind of funnel and sometimes you could see two of them colliding and combining forces. I had had a close encounter with a much smaller one a couple of days earlier while driving the BRT and it gave us a pretty good shake so I kept a close eye on any of those whose path looked like it was going intersect ours.

We passed another milestone as we crossed into Arizona. The landscape and vegetation continued to change and we began to see our first Cowboy Cactus. Now the official name is Saguaro Cactus (pronounced suwarro) but we call them Cowboy Cactus because they are the ones you seen in Cowboy Movies and cartoons. They grow tall, and have several branches that look like up stretched arms. As we drove further we went through areas where entire hill sides were covered in these cactus.

We wanted to get close to Pheonix and were prepared for a late arrival at a campsite but around 6:00 we were pleasantly surprised to find that we must have passed through another time zone and had just picked up another hour, we were now 4 hours difference from home. The clock that came with the BRT reads home time. I could say that it was a sentimental gesture but to be honest it is so hard to change the monstrous little digital device that I gave up rather than drive over it with the BRT, which would have been the natural outcome of continued fiddling, so lets go with sentimental.

We made it to the Lost Dutchman State Park, which fortunately was must easier to find than its name suggested. Just east of Pheonix, situated right in the desert in the middle of the Cowboy Cactus Country. The camp host drove by to welcome us but returned several minutes later to apologize for failing to warn us about the rattlesnakes which, according to him, had been very common of late. He warned that any nocturnal trips to the washrooms should be made with a flashlight. I passed the information on to Ike who immediately stopped any liquid intake.

We were treated to a beautiful sunset, silhouetting the Cowboy Cactus, as we had supper. Of all the spectacular scenery we have seen so far there was something about that scene that brought home how far we have travelled.

Day 26 – April 29

We awoke to what promised to be another hot day. We have arrived in the middle of an unseasonal heat wave with temperatures of 100 degrees. And dry heat be damned, 100 degrees is stinking hot no matter what the humidity. We are all making an effort to stay hydrated, gentle headaches being a reminder for me if I fell behind in my intake.

Our plan today was to split up with Family #1 for the day. We were planning a tour of Taliesin West, the winter studio of Architect Frank Lloyd Wright and as riveting an adventure as that sounded to Jane and Ike they opted to try and get their 12v electrical system fixed, which has continued to give them sporadic service, and to find a laundromat. We agreed to rendezvous at the Dead Horse Ranch State Park that night. I don’t know who has the job naming these parks but they could use a bit of training in marketing. I am on the watch for the Break Your Leg and Die in the Desert with Vultures Picking Your Bones Clean Park. It has to be around here somewhere.

Our tour of Taliesen West was great, although far from a pilgrimage, having appreciated the works of good old Frank Lloyd since my student days it was meaningful to see this work first hand. Originally located in the middle of the desert this site has now become engulfed by Scottsdale, a suburb of Phoenix. It was intended to be FLW’s winter camp where he, along with his ‘apprentices’ continued work on their architectural projects. These apprentices were really a mix between labourers, students and acolytes to the high priest Wright. Working only with natural materials at hand, stone and sand from the desert, redwood from the lumber yards of Pheonix these apprentices built the roads and structures that now form the core of this facility which still operates as an accredited university. Students must live on site and master students can build their own unserviced structures in the desert at their own expense if their design is approved. Tuition fees are $30,000 per year and like FLW each year the students migrate between Taliesen West and Taliesen East, as the seasons dictate. FLW lived to be in his 90’s and some of his original apprentices, themselves well into their 90’s still live and work here, sort of a living display of the long reaching impact of Frank Lloyd Wright’s work.

The guided tour took 2 hours and afforded a chance to see all the interior spaces of the facility, unlike the typical tour where rooms are cordoned off, this being a operating facility, every space was open and you could sit in the Wright designed and built furniture. A unique opportunity indeed.

After a stop for liquid and solid provisions we headed out on the 87 and 260 towards the enticingly named Dead Horse Ranch State Park. We had decided earlier to take this route rather than the faster interstate for the scenery and we were duly rewarded. As we climbed the mountainside, yet another mountainside, the vegetation changed from flat Cowboy Cactus country to pine forest mountainside. There were times when we felt that we could have driving in Nova Scotia or New Brunswick, except for the mountains of course.

We arrived at Dead Horse Ranch about 7:00 to find that conveniently Jane and Ike had arrived about an hour before us and had reserved a spot for us next to them. They did not have any success at Camping World with their problem except a promise to look at it in 3 weeks but they did score on a laundromat which by their description had an atmosphere more like the bar in Cheers than you might expect in your typical laundromat.

A late-ish supper of barbecued chicken and wok fried broccoli I ended the night.

Cool again this morning but by afternoon it was on with the AC again. And of course clear and sunny – in this part of the world why would you expect otherwise :-). The evening in the Days Inn was great with a nice meal from the small family restaurant. I bailed on having the Navajo Taco which was a good thing. It was a monster, like most food in Texas and Arizona. Smothered or perhaps drowning is a better word in cheese (pepper-jack and American cheese [courtesy of the oil industry] are favorites) and sour cream, tons of sour cream. Somewhere within was meat of some sort, veggies, salsa and of course, red sauce (the best), burns coming and going (sorry).

We spent most of the day in the coolest (neatest) place we have seen in many a year. The Painted Desert & Petrified Forest National Park. It stretches for about 30nm north to south and starts just off the I-40.

It is like an other planet. Subtle hues of brown, grey, yellows, reds, purples, really every color. From the Painted Dessert to the Tee Pees (structures that remain after all else has eroded) were unique. Dry river beds and of course logs. It looks like someone cut them with a chain saw but apparently a diamond saw is the only way to do it. The trees were buried in swamps a bizillion years ago when the continents were differently aligned. The original wood fiber was replaced with silica over many eons and what was once a tree eventually becomes a glass, quartz, agate, or whatever tree. The colouring comes from iron and other minerals that color the ‘logs’ As the soils underneath the logs erodes away, these logs fall apart in about 1 m sections. Whole areas of the desert floor looked like someone had tossed a couple of cord of wood down there. But unlike wood, the replacement weighs several magnitudes more and a section of 1 m former log can weigh in excess of a ton. I was challenged by the town of Holbrook information guy to pick up a piece. The conversation started because I thought it would be relatively easy to steal a piece. Ha, I was given a 1 foot log slab about 10 inches in diameter and while I could have lifted it, physio would have been required. The stuff is so dense. And this explain why more isn’t stolen, that and it appears to be everywhere. The Navajo and Cherokee both harvest this product from the desert areas of their lands and sell it for about $2 a pound. But within the park, people have been known to take a piece. In fact, you are given a form to fill out if you see someone taking stuff. The story is that if you steal it you will be cursed, unless of course you buy it. Anyhow, the following letter is from what I hope is a younger person full of remorse returning a piece he stole from the park. This and other letters were posted in the ranger station, enjoy!

From there we headed to Flagstaff. There were very high winds and dust and sand were blowing about in dense clouds that brought visibility down to 200m at times. But it cleared after a while and as we approached Flagstaff we drove through the continental divide at 7,335 feet. Trees became more plentiful as we neared the west side of town and hopes were high for a nice treed campground for the night. But it was not to be. We ended up heading towards Grand Canyon just north of the village of Williams. KOA was again our host for the night and a few trees were available that we took full advantage. And of course, the amenities were excellent. We were now just 50 miles form GC and somewhere nearby was the BRT and the LRT but we had no way of n=knowing as they had gone tech-stealth over the previous few days.

A very nice meal and we had booked GC helicopter flights for the following day, but not until 11AM, so a slow start was possible with just 50 miles to go.

These time changes have really been great, as we gained another hour yesterday, which allowed us a relaxing start to the morning. Today was a travel day, and the scenery could not be beat, with wide open skies, and massive table-top “mesas” as far as the eye could see. As we drove through Albuquerque, we could not get over how clean the city was, with its terracotta-painted overpasses and boulevards of cactus rock gardens. Sean figured he could live here for awhile.

Today was also to be our inaugural visit to “Campers World”, just past the city where their big sign beckoned. An hour and a half later, and $200 poorer, out we came with both the “need to haves” (water filter, levelers, etc) and the “want to haves” (Sean got a fancy new camping chair which is super comfee and folds into nothing).

Again we jumped on and off Route 66, but not as often, as there was much less of the original road here. For example, the state saved the route 66 bridge that crossed over the Rio Grand, but there was no road on either side of it, so it just sat there, parallel to the I-40, for all to see as you whizzed by. We also drove through a few more “66” towns like Gallop, which has thriving vintage motels, gas stops, and businesses, and is also a trading center for both the Navajo and Zuni people of the area.

By the time we crossed the boarder into Arizona it was 5pm…. on no, wait a minute… another hour saved… its only 4pm, but we are both wiped, and decided the $42 Days Inn price cannot be beat, so another 30 mins and we arrived for the evening. Another great day!

Got up in our 0.5 Star campground (parking lot) with chilly morning air but a decent breakfast. Left and headed down into the Palo Dura canyon and hiked the Lighthouse Trail for about 3 hours. Very hot in the canyon floor at 27C when we started and 32C when we finished. It is called the Lighthouse Trail as the end point of the effort is a hoodoo shaped like a lighthouse (it also looks like other things but not quite sure what, I will have to ask Phil and Ike).

The canyon was wonderful and what a park it would be to cycle in. The entire 120 mile canon floor is accessible for bikes, horseback riding, and hikers too.

A quick shower and a quick plug-in for AC at the campground allowed us to nuke our leftover curry for lunch. We then blasted off to the west of Amarillo to see the Cadillac Ranch… it is a performance art piece from years ago that features 10 Cadillacs buried nose-down in a field. There are left over spray acns of paint on the ground and the owner encourages folks to help themselves and paint them any which way you want. A little weird so it appealed to us.

Then off to the tiny town of Adrian and the Route 66 “Midpoint Cafe” which is 1,139 miles in each direction to Chicago and LA. The place is known for pies and wow, I had a massive slice of chocolate cream pie. Yummm! Sean had a great conversation with Denis, the owner, who regaled him with stories about the cafe and history of the area.

The day was now quite hot and the AC went on again. Although Texas is mostly known for oil they are apparently on the run for energy conservancy too which is nice to see. We saw wind farms with 200-400 windmills each. The other feature were dust devils, mini-whirlwind tornado things that reach from the surface to about 400m or so up. It probably extends further up but the debris doesn’t make it that far so it is sort of invisible. Too cool. One about every 4 square miles in a casual survey.

Drove along more of Route 66, visiting the ghost town of Glenrio which was quite spooky, and then crossed the boarder into New Mexico and the welcome center. This followed with a final stop at Russell’s Truck stop, to see the owners antique car collection, that was not to be missed. He has set up a museum at the back of the truck stop and it is really something…1927 Model T Roadster, 1929 Model A Pickup Truck and a mint condition 1959 Corvette Convertible, were just 3 of the 26 vehicles he had on display. He was also a Marilyn Munroe fan and had tons on memorabilia on the wall around the room. The museum was free and all donations went to the local food bank. Isn’t that great!!!!

The recommended state park was not described in glowing terms so we opted for a commercial site in the town of Santa Rosa. An old KOA it was dusty and lifeless with just a few trees. But the amenities were perfect. And at 5000 ft above sea level it chilled rapidly with sunset. We met Lynn and Darwin, from Reno and their 3 terriers, and struck up a conversation that ended in Sean trying to help Lynn with her WiFi. Their motor home was one of those massive buses with a 70 inch plasma TV. You could square dance in the kitchen. After laundry, salad and movie, we packed it in for the night.

Climbed out of Red Rock Canyon State Park a little later than planned, at 10AM, but well within our meetup schedule with the others so pressure was off. We also knew that we were getting ever closer to merging our routes as we headed west and the others climbed north and north-west. (by the way Carmel, I think in answer to your questions, ‘What happens when all the MRTs meet?’, sh-t happens I think!

We continued tracking the Mother Road with stops at Lucille’s Gas Station (Lucille was considered the mother of the Mother Road and ran this station for over 50 years). The design (see below) is called ‘live over’ style where the accommodations are on the second floor and bedrooms reach over top of the area where cars are fueled underneath, a drive through if you like. Not sure I would want the kid’s bedroom over top of fueling cars but whatever. Nice to see it so well preserved.

We then headed along various sections of Route 66 and popped into a few small towns such as Weatherford, Clinton and Fosse where main street was very wide, perhaps 4-6 lanes, and about 1/2 mile long then nothing. Every small town listed their churches on large welcoming boards and there appeared to be more churches than people. Crosses were prominent. Below is a big Jesus cross, seriously, it’s big!

Then on to Elk City (was named Busch for a while in fond hopes a brewery would re-locate there – never happened so back to Elk City as a name) to see the Route 66 National Museum. Also included was the Transportation Museum and the Olde Town Museum complex. This included an old Opera House and chapel that are used for many functions even today, and indeed on this day, a wedding. All very nice. Cute flower girls running around in the heat and the boy equivalent (sorry ladies) pretending they didn’t want to be there. The museum even included a rodeo section as the town was obviously famous for this pursuit. Carved saddles and luggage for travelling along was all made of very nice heavy leather (from the losing horses perhaps) and a little over the top in terms of adornments, carvings, silver, gold, etc ( We will leave it to your imaginations). We then headed for a lunch of burgers and milk shakes at Braumes, obviously a popular place with grandparents and grand kids on a Saturday morning after little league as kids a plenty in dirty uniforms and proud grand parents with cowboy hats and big buckles… although that was mostly the men (KD lang no where to be found… thinking of Phil here).

Having seen absolutely everything in Oklahoma (kidding) we blasted down the highway for the Texas border. The challenge was making the Welcome Center (can’t say enough good about these places, they are great) which are usually placed just inside a state close to the entry points. But Texas, decided that the panhandle welcome center should be placed where it serviced the southbound, eastbound and westbound (us) customers from one point. Smart but it did force us drive almost 100 miles in from the border and to pick up the pace as we wanted to book a neat canyon site in a National Park and it was Friday after all. What really helped is that Texas thinks 70mph is for Nancy Boys and so upped the ante to 75mph (obviously a state that produces even more oil that Oklahoma).

As Phil mentioned elsewhere, Texas is dry. Oklahoma just came off a two year drought just the previous week and is quite dry but driving in to Texas is something else. Nothing green unless it is watered and there is plenty of that going on. And flat, how flat is it ??? it is so flat you can see the New Mexico highway signs in the distance. And hot, we hit 30C and by time we got to the welcome center it seemed hotter. The place is half-buried in the ground and the dry moat surrounding it says not to let your kids play in there due to rattlers, yikes! Since we didn’t get there til after 4pm we were out of luck in staying at the Palo Duro Canyon State Park, given it was also Friday night and this was the park of choice for most campers. From all that we had read, we really wanted to hike the park the next day, so it was recommended, as an alternative, that we stay at “Big Tex RV and Resort” that was just next door.

When we arrived, the owner came over and introduced himself. Carla had spoken with him from the welcome center about getting a treed space at his campground. When he realized who she was he proudly pointed out the two trees (one was dead) available in his campground. The rest could be summed as the good and bad scenario – Good: you could spit and hit the state park next door in the canyon. Bad: they weren’t really open yet, but couldn’t pass up the overflow from the park and charged us $25/night for dirt, leaky water fawcet, crappy bathrooms, and no other amenities. They recommended that if we wanted a shower, we should pay $5/ea to go into the park and use theirs!! It was a bit depressing, but it did have a nice view as it was located on the rim of the canyon and we walked over to take pictures at sunset.

To celebrate our first night in Texas, a state known for its hot food, we made curry and settled in for the night. A quick Facetime to Casey in Nepal, enabled us to catch-up on her news, and begin planning our rendezvous with her in BC in June.

Day 23 – April 26

Wheels rollin’ by 8:00 was our target and we hit it this morning. Our plan was to have breakfast at the restaurant where we watched sunset last night. We saw that they had a wi-fi connection and not having had one, or a shower for that matter, for several days we were all behind in our communications back home. Wi-fi connections have become sort of a holy grail for us. Typically our collective company is chatty and gregarious but put us into a wi-fi spot and everyone is heads down and fingers flying – we are a long way from the old days of backpacking when you would leave a message at the next American Express office.

Jane took the opportunity to Face Time her firstborn, Graham, who is working in northern B.C. In fairness to Graham, being awoken by someone who is 2 time zones ahead of you is a rough start to the day but he rose to the challenge and managed what by some standards could be called a conversation, even using some multi syllabic words. Good job Graham !

Blogs were posted, e-mails answered and bills paid. Life goes on – even on the road. I wonder how Jack Kerouac managed.

I took the opportunity to go into the park store and buy a couple of lengths of rope. In the high winds of the previous day in the mountain basin I thought it prudent to tie down the canopy to avoid the BRT being flipped on its side. Embarrassingly I realized that amongst the vast store of provisions that I had loaded into the belly of the BRT I had not included rope. Fortunately Ike had the forethought to have packed some rope that was just long enough to secure the canopy to the boulders at the edge of our site. If they moved we had much bigger issues.

As we made our way back down from the mountains we were struck by how rapidly the landscape and vegetation changed. Soon we were back in the expanses of lower hills and plains. Even at 10:00 in the morning the heat is building to a predicted high of 100 degrees. A good day for the air conditioned splendour of the ‘RT’s. We headed west on the 170 headed for Presidio where we planned to turn north towards El Paso.

The 170 follows the path of the Rio Grande and initially the road was close to the elevation of the river witnessed by the frequent flood markers along the roadside. However it soon climbed into the mountains providing vistas down a canyon side to the pea green Rio Grande as it winds it way east to the Gulf of Mexico. Progress was slow as frequent stops were required for photographs and cooling of the brakes. I’m feeling very appreciative of the new brakes that were installed when we bought the BRT.

Not only did the road twist left and right following the turns of the Rio Grande it also, at times, approached roller coaster proportions complete with that ‘what happened to the bottom of my stomach’ feeling as we crested some of the rises.

At Presidio we headed north on the 67 to Marfa where we had a late lunch and then after a quick provision stop headed on the 90 to Van Horn. After a brief conference we decided that we would try to get close to El Paso and start looking for an RV park or campground. El Paso is a sprawling twin city with Ciuad Juarez in Mexico with the # 10 Interstate running through it so we kept on driving and just after the New Mexico border found a small RV park , the Western Skies RV Park, that was acceptable i.e. had showers, water and power. We had a good supper of mini pizzas built on tortilla bread. It was a windless night and despite our proximity to the #10 Interstate we ate outside under a star filled night that once again was punctuated by the rising of a brilliant waning gibbous moon (Jen, Colin, hope I got that right).

Day 24 – April 27

OK in hindsight ‘acceptable’ may have been an exaggeration. Issues in order of increasing importance, Family #1’s site had a broken electrical outlet so power was provided via a long extension cord from Family # 2’s site. Only upside to that was it helped me rationalize why I’m lugging a 50 foot extension cord around.

The taps in the washrooms were devoid of even warm water, the plywood doors on the toilet stalls didn’t lock but the toilets did flush. As for the much anticipated showers, in the men’s side, one of the three was out of order, considering the condition of the two ‘operating’ showers I can’t imagine what apocalyptic event transpired behind door #1 to have it categorized as out of order, possibly some rift in the time space continuum. The shower heads in the operating showers looked like the before pictures in a CLR ad. The stalagmites of calcium deposits on them were reminiscent of Sean and Carla’s description of the caves in Luray. I chose the one with the fastest dribble only to find the additional bonus that the drain didn’t work so shower time was limited by the height of the shower sill – not an issue really in light of the rate of water flow.

One the positive side each site had a sewer hook up so I was able to do a grey water dump, getting pretty good at that now – another step closer to my RVer’s badge. I am still working on the RV wave however. This is the wave fellow RVer’s give each other when they pass on the road. Although seemingly simple to the untrained eye, the seasoned RVer executes the wave with an economy, ease and grace reminiscent of a Gordie Howe high elbow back in pre expansion days. The wave is given with either the left or right hand that is strategically resting on top of the steering wheel. You must not remove the wrist from the steering wheel during the wave. Lifting the wrist from the wheel is considered bad form and overly exuberant. Any use of the elbow during the wave is a clear indication of a newbie.

We checked out and were pleased that the posted rate of $38 per night (a galling amount in light of the quality of the amenities) was in fact only $26 including a 10% discount for being Good Sam members. A small salve on the wound that is now referred to as the ‘Western Skies Incident’.

We headed out at about 8:30 on the # 10 headed for Silver City and the Gila (pronounced heela) Cliff Dwellings in the Gila National Forest Park. We were well positioned for our May 1 rendezvous at the Grand Canyon so we anticipated a more leisurely driving day than the previous one.

We decided that the most direct route to the cliffs was along route 15. On paper you couldn’t argue with that, however what we didn’t know was that route 15 was basically the back door road to the cliffs. It took almost 2 hours to traverse the posted 43 miles to our destination. That was because route 15 was one continuous switchback.

At one point the switch back was so tight that I actually could see in the back window of the BRT from the passengers seat. Diane and Jane were in their respective drivers seats and did yeoman service as we climbed and dropped our way up and down the unguardrailed road to the cliff dwelling site.

Luckily there was little on coming, or following traffic. In retrospect a clear sign that, like Robert Frost, we had chosen the road less travelled. In most places the road did not even have a centre line marked. We finally intersected route 35 which by comparison was a super highway and ended up at the information centre for the site where we took the opportunity to eat lunch and fill up our water bottles for the hike to the dwellings. We were told that it was about a one mile round trip and after a briefing from park staff about the protocols of staying on the trail and not touching the artifacts we left on our hike.

The path was a pleasant, well marked trail through a pine forest. Ike was leading the way and as we approached a small footbridge we all were stopped by a strange sound. As Ike examined the tree tops for some unfamiliar bird Jane spotted the source and directed Ike with an urgency saved for very special occasions to (and this is a translation) move along. What we had spotted on the edge of the trail, not 3 feet from Ike as he peered obliviously into the tree tops, was a coiled and annoyed rattlesnake.

Now all the information brochures and interpretation panels in the world can’t prepare you for coming face to face, or face to ankle as was the case here, with one of the most notorious snakes in the world. Although we had had a great discussion on the Natchez Trail with a volunteer who travelled with a reptile show and had been advised that there hadn’t been a death due to rattlesnake bite for decades, none of that information seemed pertinent in comparison to the human primal fear of snakes, especially a coiled, rattling one.

In moving past the snake Ike executed manoeuvres that would have been the envy of both Mikhael Berezenkov and Donovan Bailey as he took a position further along the trail that was not only well beyond snake strike distance but possibly beyond Scud missile range. It took several minutes before the snake moved off the path and crawled under a rock and the rest of our intrepid group felt it was safe to pass. Now as the photographs will attest this was not a huge snake, possibly 2 feet long, but I am confident that in the retelling Ike will eventually have it several orders of magnitude longer and the description of his encounter with this reptilian monster will dwarf the tales of the epic battles of our time in comparison.

Thirty seconds later we noted a sign along the trail with a picture of a snake on it that read ‘Please Stay on Trail’. Who knew that New Mexico snakes could read. The rest of the trip to the dwellings was spent paying very careful attention to the path, rather than to the surrounding scenery. Ike in particular seemed to have developed a heightened sense of awareness to all his surroundings and subtly had allowed Jane to take over lead position.

Arriving at the cliff dwellings was once again one of those experiences that the pictures can’t prepare you for. Originally occupied on a transient basis by nomadic tribes the caves were eventually used as a permanent dwellings by the Mogollon Indians around 1200 A.D., almost 300 years before good old Chris Columbus discovered ‘merica. Could you imagine their anxiety for all of those years anticipating their impending discovery. No wonder they focused on things like making decorative pots and growing crops in anticipation of the first craft fair where they could trade their goods for more useful things like measles and beads.

The caves were carved out of the soft rock eons ago by the eroding waters of some long disappeared river, leaving deep recesses whose overhangs provide shade from the sun in the heat of summer but yet allowed the warming rays of the low winter sun to penetrate. There are 6 caves that were accessible and occupied with a 7th that was inaccessible. The Mogollons built low walls out of small rocks and mortar to divide the space into family areas, having a communal kitchen in one of the caves, possibly in an attempt to keep the attraction of food to the wildlife away from the sleeping and living quarters.

By way of a set of steps you are allowed to access some of the caves and truly be able to experience the intimacy of the dwellings. Many of the nooks and crannies within the caves have been adapted with small walls and shelves to provide storage for the everyday necessities of their lives. In a strange moment of connection it occurred to me that although so different in so many ways, our current life in the BRT has some similarities in the economies of space and the need for orderliness.

We finished our tour at about 4:00 and although the drive in had been entertaining we decided to use route 35, the front door, on our way out. About 30 minutes later we saw a state park campsite and decided that rather than driving further we would stop for the night. A great meal of barbecued pork chops, tabbouleh salad and Greek salad prepared by Jane and Ike was once again eaten under a star filled sky. The later rising moon is now affording us an opportunity to really appreciate the huge light pollution free skies of this area of New Mexico.

Well, the day started off dull and grey then blackened considerably as a major CB cloud rolled through. Thunder was almost simultaneous to the lightening attesting to its proximity. We were still in the bunk at this point and didn’t give a tiny rat’s a–. It passed through quickly and the day continued warmish with 18C and overcast. Perfect weather for exploring the Oklahoma sections of the “Old Mother Road” or Route 66.

Every small town along the route had some story and something unique to offer. The actual route is mostly gone but there are whole sections next to the secondary road that you can drive on for a few hundred meters before you need to retreat because a bridge that once existed is now gone. But the newer road does go through the same little towns and hopeful villages as before. Old stores shuttered and whole towns that are mere memories of the past glory days. Some areas appear to be trying to capitalize on the mystique of the old route that ran from Chicago to Santa Monica and saw it’s heyday end in the 60’s but these efforts are obviously a struggle. But there continues to be much interest. We stopped at a unique winery called Stable Ridge (it is Oklahoma after all) and tried various offerings that were just fine. We were told that 68 Australians had come through earlier in the day in 32 cars and they were intent on following every little bit of Route 66 that remained. This is not an uncommon pursuit apparently. Later in the morning we went through a small village and low and behold it was crowded, yes, the Aussie flotilla has invaded the near ghost town with big southern cross flags and much fanfare… We escaped further to the west for lunch in the little village of Border Town. This was the easternmost point of the the great land grant where everyone got a chance at free land to start a new life. Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman were featured in a movie called Far and Away that covered this period. From the notes for this event, it appeared the day started with green prairie everywhere and by nightfall there were major tent cities everywhere… what an idea… Anyhow, Okie (also Sooners) don’t stand on much on fancy so lunch was pulled pork (excellent) and a 1/4 pound hot dog on big bun with chilli and cheese a plenty. 5000 calories and OMG! Drinks were root beer (big paper cups that the waitress kept filling). I asked for coffee and was offered Nescafe so opted for tea. When I asked for milk it came in powdered form and of course, all was in paper cups.

We then stopped at a round barn from 1890 or so that had been rebuilt about 20 years ago, They used to hold dances in the upper area during the depression era. And then on to Pops. They have 150 brands of soda which I suspected were all just flavours to be added to a base of soda water but in actuality they have assembled the best 150 sodas (pop) from around the world. Sounds weird but I picked up a ginger beer from Jamaica and another from the states and Carla found a blood orange from Bundaberg in the Queensland area of Aus. I have had their rum before and it is not too bad at all. Very neat if not so authentic to the Route 66 theme.

We had pre-called Verizon from the day before at the welcome center upon entering Oklahoma. I laid out the sad, sad story and the manager Jonathan promised to sort through so this afternoon was a quick visit to a corporate store and suffice to say that the MRT is now one high-speed, fully wired turd with access even from within our present location, the Red Rock canyon, yea.

We arrived here in Red Rock before 17:00LT (a first for us) and settled in to a nice spot with power and water and some great neighbors. This state park is in a canyon with about 20-30m high walls. But the canyon is just 1/4 mile wide where we are and a river shares the bottom. Apparently nearby you can still see the tracks from the wagons that were west bound a couple of millenia ago. Sort of cool. These canyon walls are also popular for rappelling from for those that are into that sort of thing.

As for good neighbors, when I put out the awning (spelled Aaaaawwwwnnnniiiiinnnnnngggggg here in Oklahoma) our neighbors suggested this might not be best due to unsettled weather left over from this morning. I looked about at the fluffy white clouds, warm air, setting sun and acknowledged their concerns as this part of the world is known for changing weather in the form of tornadoes etc (I always laugh at the oft heard comment that if you don’t like maritime weather, wait 30 minutes and it will change. Except for fog rolling in Novi weather is pretty darn stable by comparison to most places we have been on the planet…) Anyhow, we started a nice fire, set the table outside, had some drinks going and I pointed out the darkening sky to Carla. Within 10 minutes we had retreated to the MRT interior with all outside packed away. Hail hit first, then torrential rains and winds and near-continuous lightening. Clever neighbors aren’t they!

Following is a rough map of our route so far. we have traveled a lot of distance so far but also experienced a lot. We fully appreciate that you could spend a lifetime along this route we have chosen and probably still not see it all. But the world is large and there is much to see so onward we go…

More Route 66 tomorrow and into Texas along the Mother Road.

Day 21 – April 24

In anticipation of an early departure and a full day of driving my Ipad alarm song of All Day and All of the Night awoke us at 6:30 to much cooler weather than we have been used to over the last week, temperatures in the 50’s rather than the 70-80’s. We were hoping to get to, or close to, Big Bend National Park in Texas so were prepared for a long haul, 2 driver day. Big Bend is situated on the Rio Grande River, which forms the border between Texas and Mexico.

We drove for miles and miles along the 377 south through very arid countryside. In places it is so rocky that there isn’t even a sign of grass. There are however masses of a scrub tree that seem to be a short lived species as most of them had either some withered grey branches or had given up the ghost altogether and stood leafless. We have been told that Texas has been in drought for about 3 years so this may not be the typical landscape.

There are very few signs of livestock. In an hours drive we only saw a few longhorn cattle, some very large goats and one horse. However lots of turkey vultures soaring in the sky and feeding on the frequent road kill of the small deer which populate the area. We have seen several wild turkey and a roadrunner, which was very cool. However no Acme shipping crates or Wilie Coyotes have been spotted so far.

As we got closer to the Mexican border we saw an increased presence of US Border Guards and at one location we were stopped while two guards and a German shepherd inspected the vehicle. Apparently we didn’t have any of what they were looking for so the stop was short.

The landscape and vegetation changed slowly as we made our way west and south. The roadside colours of the day before were replaced with a subtle palette of browns, greys and greens that had their own beauty. We began to see more rock out crops along the road and in places where the road had been cut through the hills various colours of geologic formations were laid out in distinct contrast.

We stopped for lunch at Langtry, the home of the famous western judge, Roy Bean – ‘the only justice West of the Pecos’. His admiration for the British songstress Lilly Langtry led him to the name the town after her. The visitors centre for Langtry is built on the grounds of Judge Bean’s old store/courtroom, which is still in tact and provides an interesting glimpse into the history of this Western culture. The visitors centre also boasts a lovely cactus garden, many of which were in bloom, despite the drought conditions.

As we headed due south from Marathon to the Big Bend National Park the landscape and scenery went into overdrive. Beginning with some small hills and culminating in spectacular cliffs of every shade of brown, the road ended at Big Bend where the views were spectacular. We are all just awestruck by the magnitude of this place. I am not even going to try and describe the scene, the photographs will have to speak for us. We arrived at the Rio Grande Village campsite at about 6:30. By the time we were set up the sun was setting in the west in concert with an almost full moon that was rising over the reddening cliffs and we all ran for our cameras to try and capture the moment.

Day 22 -April 22

As check out at this campground was 12 o’clock we were up early(ish) to have breakfast and take the nature trail hike. Diane and I headed out first but Jane and Ike quickly caught up as we were distracted by all the photo opportunities along the way. Again the scenery defies description. We have great scenery at home but here the difference is the magnitude of the scenery. As you climb to some of the vista you are engulfed by scenery, it is of a magnitude that is hard to describe.

There are a lot of birds around and along with the prolific turkey vultures we saw a gold fronted woodpecker, a yellow chested chat and a vermillion flycatcher ( these were all identified with the help of other campers).

We also saw a clutch of the not so rare Birder Americanus. This species travels in groups and is sometimes mistakenly identified as Hiker Americanus. However the discerning eye will note the subtle differences. Border Americanus is identified by the large optical equipment that is suspended from their necks and the multi pocketed vests across their chests. Hiker Americanus however is distinguished by the oft carried walking staff, short pants, large boots and of course the ubiquitous backpack. One common feature to both species that is the most frequent cause of misidentification is the Tilley Hat which adorns both species heads.

We went to the end of the nature trail and could look and hear across the Rio Grande River. The sounds of a horseback rider on the other side of the Rio Grand echoed clearly to our vantage point.

There was a sign as we started the trail that informed us purchase from Mexican Nationals was forbidden. We didn’t understand what that meant until we saw some decorative items for sale along the trail, unattended but with marked prices and bottles for payment. We also saw as we stood at an overlook a Mexican crossing the river, while someone stood watch on the other side, bringing more painted walking sticks to their vending spot.

After returning from our walk we packed up and moved to the Basin Campsite which is nestled in the Chisos Mountains. This site was a totally different landscape. We were surrounded by steep sided mountains under a very strong sun. Sitting in the shade was the only option for the afternoon as it was too hot for any activity. The locals keep telling us that by Big Bend standards this is not hot yet and that within the week temperatures of 100 F would not be abnormal. It appears that April is the peak month at this park due to those excessive temperatures in the summer.

After a relaxing but very hot afternoon we walked up a trail to the park restaurant whose deck provided a panoramic view of a spectacular sunset.

We returned to camp in the dark (being very mindful of the warning signs that there had been daily sightings of a mountain lion in the campgrounds) for a late supper of barbecued hamburgers but as the wind had risen to almost gale force it was a challenge to keep items on the table or even to keep the barbecue lit so we eventually resorted to cooking in one of the metal food lockers provided at each site for tenters to keep their food away from the bears in the area. Tight quarters but effective.

A full moon rose over the mountains behind us to signal the end to a great day of sights.