We reached our KOA Campground late on a Friday afternoon. It would be our home for the next seven nights. I had wanted to camp in one of the state parks along the Pacific Ocean….specifically Beverly Beach, just north of Newport, Oregon. But, in order to be fortunate enough to reserve one of those cabins….or, in this case, a Yurt….a person has to make the reservation probably one year in advance. Or plan to stay there before the rush of the tourist season starts around the last of May and extends through probably the first week of school for the Western States. We were not able to do that…..and this was the first time since I have been vacationing on the Oregon Coast that I had to settle for a KOA Campground.

This trip to the Oregon Coast was no doubt….how should I put this?….the worst trip I have had. That is just sort of how it turned out:

1. We were not camping on the ocean front.

2. My knee was hurting badly….and the pain was increasing, making it nearly impossible to walk in the sand.

3. Sultan was not nearly as excited about the ocean as I am. In fact, he was decidedly unenthusiastic about any degree of exploring or adventure.

4. The beaches and the highways were much more crowded than I have ever seen them before.

I am not saying that I did not have a good time during the time we stayed on the Oregon Coast. It is just that I have had better

times…..much better times.

The biggest problem….first and foremost….was my knee. It was hurting progressively worse as time went by. Second….the shortness of breath and disorientation that still persisted. Even a few steps in the sand was almost unbearable. Literally, it was four or five steps…..stop and rest… Four or five more steps….stop and rest…. And, all the time was was clinging to Sultan for fear of falling on my face…..and most of the time that would be been in front of dozens of other people.

Most days, however, we managed to take our camping chairs….or at least, I would take my chair….and sit on the

beach for a couple hours. Once we had reached the edge of the ocean where the waves had washed ashore, the sand was firm, and walking was much easier….and much less painful. And, once I was comfortably sitting in my camping chair, the ocean air was refreshing….and the sound of the waves was comforting and soothing. The sight of the waves….constantly rolling in with their never-ending cycles is awe inspiring. The ocean is mysterious….inscrutable. I don’t think I can ever tire of the magnetic attraction of the ocean.

Normally, one of my favorite activities on the beach is searching for agates….those translucent stones that wash up on shore from…..who knows where? Over the years, I have collected…..and polished…..hundreds of them. In years past, it was fun to wade out into the waves….slowly and carefully, of course…..until the waves were lapping at my thighs….or, if I was brave…..my stomach. The last time I was there, Fayez spent hours on the beach flying his kite….while I took pictures! We looked for….and found….secluded beaches where we would not be disturbed….where we could enjoy the solitude of the ocean….and the sound of the waves. But…. Not this year. I was lucky to be able to walk to the beach….and back to the car.

We saw a lot of the ocean….took dozens of pictures. But, there was no exploring. Sultan simply did not find the ocean to be as alluring and appealing as I do. But… That is OK.. There will be other years….other opportunities. Sultan did 100% of the driving….Bless his heart! If I had been driving, I am sure we would have spent hours exploring…..searching out beautiful, but deserted, beaches. Actually, I already know where most of them are. It is just a matter of driving to them…..

 

 

 

 

 

But….. It was my knee that was the problem. If my knee had been healthy, the entire situation would have been different. On the second or third day in Oregon, we found a walk-in clinic. The personnel were polite and attentive…. The doctor asked the right questions…. But, without x-rays and more extensive examination, there was little she could do for me…. They are accustomed to treating immediate

problems….problems that have a more short term solution. The doctor, just like I, suspected that I had twisted my my knee….or sprained it….or had stretched a tendon or ligament….. The word “arthritis” was never mentioned….or probably even thought about. “Keep off it. Keep it elevated. Keep ice on it.” Those were her logical instructions….. None of which were really possible to obey. None of which dealt directly with the (at that time, unknown) problem.

On the Oregon Coast there are other interesting and entertaining things to do besides hang out on the beach…..especially when I had already spent more than a dozen summer vacations there. But, as everybody probably knows, what is fun and entertaining to one person is not necessarily fun and entertaining to another person. I think this was the basic situation this summer while Sultan and I were there. Maybe due to all the health problems I was having at the time, this became more pronounced….or

more accentuated….or more evident…..something. But, the simple fact is: Sultan is not nearly so attracted or excited about the ocean as I am. Maybe this is because he lives closer to a large body of water….albeit not an ocean….than I do. You would think that a desert dweller would be wildly excited about water….the beach…. Of course, they have lots of sand. But the beach at the Pacific Ocean not only has lots of sand….but also water.

We did spend a few hours exploring some of the quaint little stores in Depoe Bay…..the picturesque little village south of Lincoln City….a charming small town with only one main street that runs parallel to the ocean. And, it will stay this way. Right across the highway is the Pacific Ocean. It is a tourist town….pure and simple. It is, however, appealing and charismatic….without being overtly phony. It is one of the centers of whale watching on the central Oregon Coast.

We strolled up and down the sidewalk on the only business street, gazing into the windows at the merchandise that always looks attractive….but that I certainly do not need… or passing iconic little cafes selling clam chowder, shrimp, clams, oysters…. The aroma that drifted out onto the sidewalk was tempting. But, it was ten o’clock in the morning…and far too early to start a day of unnecessary eating, despite what our nose and taste buds were pleading for. There are also signs inviting us to take a trip out into the Pacific Ocean…..the excitement, the adventure, the thrill…. Actually, I have done that before…. Take my word for it…. There is only water here….water there….water everywhere. And, it all looks the same!

Our main purpose was to find an Oregon Coast t-shirt for Sultan. I am sure we walked into every souvenir store in Depoe Bay….looked at every shirt that was for sale….and found:

Nothing. It was somewhat frustrating and disappointing. One would think that out of the hundreds of t-shirts on display…..there would be one special shirt that would immediately stand out. That shirt that has “I am the One” written all over it…. But, either that shirt was not there….anywhere, or it was speaking a different language.

Our second mission was to carry on one of my fondest traditions: Buy some fudge and some toffee from one of the many shops who specialize in making this delicious and sinfully delicious confection. This is a mission where it is almost impossible to go wrong. It is all good. I don’t know if each little shop makes their own candy….or whether it is simply mass produced in Taiwan. But, no matter…. It is good!

The Bay Front….the waterfront….in Newport…..is always an interesting way to wile away some time. It too is a bustling

street….this time on both sides of the street….bordering the Newport Bay. It is also lined with its own variety of shops, restaurants and bars. It is probably a little more “high class” than Depoe Bay, however, Some of the souvenir shops….or galleries…sell originally and (supposedly) locally produced crafts….all with a nautical theme, of course. In fact, it was there….in one of those galleries….that I first got the idea of making my own stained glass art. At the time, little did I suspect that twenty or thirty years later, I would have made somewhere around sixty of my own stained glass creations. So….chalk up a point for the Newport waterfront!

On the Bay side of the street are the fish canneries….the docks…..the fishing boats. On the opposite side of the street are the more traditional retail establishments…..the souvenir shops, the galleries, bars, restaurants, etc. Merchandise, as well as services, do not come cheap here. But, that is why people are here…..to spend money. And, the merchants know it. I seriously doubt if we could have found even one permanent resident of Newport….aside from the employees….walking on the sidewalks or in any of the stores. It is strictly a tourist venue. It is a place for tourists like Sultan and me to leisurely walk up and down the sidewalk, peering into the windows, and maybe even going inside to handle the merchandise and who knows? Perhaps even buy something. It is a place to buy a meal of expensive sea food…..maybe caught just off the Oregon Coast….and maybe imported from Japan or the Gulf Coast. Nobody really cares.

It is a place to stand and watch the fishing boats enter or depart the docks….and if you are lucky, to see the fish being unloaded and perhaps even cleaned. But don’t expect to find any bargains on the sea food. Many people have the mistaken idea that sea food is dirt cheap in these little coastal towns and village. For the people who think this is true…. They will suffer a severe case of sticker shock. I have never seen anybody

carried off to the hospital in an ambulance, but I have seen the incredulous and disappointed expressions on many tourists’ faces…..and I have heard the murmuring of disbelief when they see the prices. And, I hasten to say…..the price of all the sea food is clearly marked, so nobody ends up working on a fishing boat for a week to pay for the fish they just naively bought.

The only other long-standing tradition that I have when visiting the Oregon Coast is to eat on Mo’s. Mo’s is an Oregon Coast culinary icon….easily the most famous eating place on the Coast. And, at least, in my opinion, the reputation is well deserved. Mo’s is famous for its clam chowder….but all of the sea food is top quality and, again in my opinion, unparalleled in its quality and taste.

I ate there on my first real vacation on the Oregon Coast in 1978….and it has been a continuous tradition in each succeeding vacation. The restaurant….and I hate to downgrade its status by calling it a restaurant….was founded back in the 1950….and has expanded to a “chain” of maybe five or six additional eating establishments up and down the Central Oregon Coast. The most iconic restaurants are located in Newport and at the Devil’s Punch Bowl on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean a few miles north of Newport.

Quite by accident, I think, I had read an article about Mo’s…really never expecting to actually eat there. But, as we were exploring the coastline, we took one of the hundreds of little “detours” off the highway to see a place called Devil’s Punch Bowl….and quite unexpectedly, there in front of us was Mo’s. We did not want to pass up this opportunity. So…. We ate our evening meal at my very first

Mo’s….clam chowder, salad and cheesy French toast…..and a glass of hot wine. I have never missed eating at Mo’s in any of the succeeding trips. In recent visits, we ate at the almost equal historic and iconic Mo’s on the Bay Front in Newport. It is larger….but full of its original charm and history.

But, what is a tradition for one person….me…. If not necessarily a “future” tradition for others. Yeah…. Sultan had little interest in or curiosity about eating at Mo’s. Oh… Yes, we did eat at Mo’s. He did not want to drive down to Newport….or even The Devil’s Punch Bowl….so we settled by eating at Mo’s in Lincoln City. The food was excellent, as usual. But, Mo’s in Lincoln City is “new”….and it lacked the historic charm and unknown secrets that it holds from the past. Who knows. Though? Maybe it will also become a part of the tradition for future trips. Well….. Don’t count on it. I am sure that is not going to happen.

Our time on the Oregon Coast had come to an end. We left the mysteries of the Pacific Ocean and looked forward to spending a day among the equally inscrutable big trees of the Redwood National Forest in Northern California. Just like the ocean, it also impossible to describe the grandeur of the mighty redwoods. Sure, I have taken dozens of pictures of the redwood forest. But, when a person looks at them, he is comparing giant a redwood with another giant redwood. There is nothing to give it perspective. There are no oak trees or elm trees…. If there were, these trees that might seem to be “mighty” in a forest of their own would be

dwarfed in the shadows of the redwoods.

One way to get somewhat of an idea of their mammoth size is to try and put one’s arms around one. Even a basketball player with long, dangling arms cannot even hope to cover the surface that is facing him. To merely tell a person the redwoods are awesome…or even to show pictures….is vastly inadequate. In order to fully appreciate a forest of redwoods, a person, I think, has to actually stand in the midst of them….. To gaze upward into the heavens….to stand beside them and know first hand how insignificant we are in comparison…..to find a fallen tree, climb up on its trunk and walk the distance from beginning to end. And, don’t worry, you are not going to fall off, not even if you want to. A person must walk among them and absorb the silence, the shade, the protection of a thousand trees towering above.

But, do not walk too far into the forest. The trees are much like the ocean. There is a sameness about the forest…… Look ahead, there are trees; look to the right, more trees; look the left…..look behind you. There are trees; you are surrounded by trees. Basically, they all look the same. There are no landmarks. The silence, the trees….all those trees…. It can quickly become disorienting. You are walking through the peaceful bliss of the forest….and all of a sudden, you realize, “Where am I?” There may be a moment of panic. Which way did I come from? You turn around and start walking back…. But… Was this the way I came from? Where is the road? Where is my car?

This happened to me only once! And once was enough. We learned our lesson. Luckily we had not walked very far into the forest. When we realized that maybe we had better turn back……we looked. Where was my car? we started walking…. we were fortunate, we heard cars passing on the road. we walked to toward the sound of the cars. Eventually, we found our way back to the road…..but it was few hundred yards from the car. Like I said, walking in the redwood forest is much like being on water…. You had better have a plan for getting safely back to the point where you started. For the most part, the sun is rather blocked out….all the trees look the same. It is better to follow an established trail….and to stay on that trail. Or simply do not walk so far into the forest….Keep an eye on your car. Never let it out of sight.

An average redwood tree is somewhere in the range of 30 feet in diameter. Think about that. It is probably somewhere around 94 feet in circumference. That is why not very many people can but their arms around them! A typical redwood is normally between 250 and 300 feet tall…..the really tall ones are even taller. That is higher than a football field is long. From just one of these trees, there is enough lumber to construct 40 5-room houses. Wow, I live in a small 5-room house. Forty more houses….maybe even

a little larger than mine…..can be build using only one tree. And….then…. What I think is probably the most remarkable statistic about a redwood tree: Many of them are at least 2000 years old. And….this is a statistic that I also read back during my very first visit in 1978. This means they were actually growing in Northern California when Christ lived his short life on earth in the Middle East.

For those of you who have been to the Redwood National Forest, you probably know what I am talking about. Merely talking about them does not do justice. No doubt the only way to really comprehend these giant trees…..a vast forest of these giant trees….is to go there and experience it. If you are a person who thinks he is a big shot….pretty important….walking among the redwoods will cut you

down to size in a hurry!

The next day was spent driving from our campground in Manchester, California, to Reno, Nevada. The trip turned out to be one of the worst drives of the entire trip. I am not sure how it happened….Maybe it was the fault of the GPS… Normally the trip is an idyllic trip though some scenic mountains….with the vast stretch of some dry, but irrigated farmland filling the valley between two mountain ranges. This year we were routed onto a crowded multi-lane highway that took us on a circuitous route that scraped the northern fringes of San Francisco. Like I said….I don’t know how we got on this highway, but it was boring, stressful, and seemingly never-ending. And, believe me…. It will never happen again.

 

 

 

We spent the high in Reno. I used to call it the “Little Las Vegas”. Back in the good old days, it was a major gambling and entertainment town. It was bustling with activity. As the sun went down….the volume of traffic on the sidewalk went up. Many times I almost had to hold hands with the person I was with in order for us to stay together. Either fortunately or unfortunately, the problem did not occur this time. Virginia Avenue, the main casino street in Reno, was basically deserted. There were a few other people out wandering around, but Sultan and I certainly did not face the problem of staying together….and we did not hold hands!

As is my usual custom, we ate our dinner at Circus Circus…..taking advantage of their mega-buffet at a semi-reasonable price. I used to know exactly where the buffet was located….and we could walk directly to it. The location had changed, and it took some searching….a lot of searching, in fact…..in order to find it. In fact, I was becoming apprehensive that maybe they had closed it down. But…. We found it. It was as delicious as I remembered it being. And, I think Sultan was pleased, too.

When we finished eating, we found ourselves in a somewhat of a maze of slot machines and blackjack tables. Finally, we spotted an exit sign…..and made our way toward it. Casinos are constructed with no windows….no source of outside light….so it is difficult to keep directions oriented. Sort of like the redwood forest! But, luck was with us….and within in minutes, we found ourselves back out onto the street. But…. Now where we

entered. In fact, on first glance, we had no idea where we were. To begin with…. We entered the Circus Circus Casino…..and somehow we exited through the El Dorado Casino. It was like we were caught up in one of their magic shows. We started searching for a sign that said “Virginia Avenue”. Once were were back on a street we had heard of, we glanced up and saw that an overhead passageway connected the two casinos. No wonder we felt disoriented. I still have no idea how we wandered through the passageway….from one casino or another…..or why the passageway even existed. Probably the two casinos had merged together into one company. However, I don’t know…..and I really do not care.

For some reason much of Virginia Avenue had been blocked to traffic, and even though nothing was happening, the barriers were still in place. We were able to walk in the street, a factor which made it seem like there were even fewer people. But, it also gave us a better perspective to take pictures. We snapped pictures of the iconic “Reno” sign….and most of the casinos. There was little else to do, though. Sultan was too young to gamble….and I had no desire to gamble…..so we slowly made our way back to our motel…..also located on Virginia Avenue.

After leaving Sin City “Junior”, we faced a day-long trip across the Nevada desert to Salt Lake City. It really is not as bad as it may sound….especially if there is somebody to talk to and laugh with and make the time go by a little more quickly. Fortunately, this has always been the case for me…..and it certainly as the case this year. I had Sultan to talk to. The day held another rare treat, too. This was the day of the historic complete eclipse of the sun. A few weeks earlier, my mechanic had given me two pairs of “cheap” glasses to be used for viewing the eclipse. I just about left them at home….thinking we probably would not be in a place to look at it. Luckily, I put them into my briefcase….and I am glad I did. At the appointed hour…..around 10:30 or so in the morning…..we pulled into a lonely rest stop somewhere in the Nevada desert. Under normal conditions, probably nobody would have been there, except us. But, on this day other people had the

same goal as we did: Watch the total eclipse of the sun.

Of we had stayed in Lincoln City, Oregon, for another few days, we would have been in the direct path of the eclipse. Or, if we had stayed at home, we would also have been extremely near the direct path of the eclipse. However, we pulled into the rest stop, rather surprised to see so many people already there….gazing intently toward the sky through their specially made viewing glasses (I hope.) Merely driving along I-80, it was impossible to determine the extent of the eclipse in western Nevada. A haze….sort of a shadow….was evident. But, we both knew enough not to look up directly at the sun.

When we stopped and looked through our glasses, I was surprised to see that the eclipse was approximately 85%…. Eighty-five percent of the sun was blocked. We stood beside our rental car and looked at the phenomenon for several minutes. Sultan was especially fascinated, I think. This was the first time he had observed any sort of eclipse…..so I can imagine it was rather astounding for him. Eventually, we drove on…..although we did stop beside the highway at least once to get out and check the progress of the eclipse.

Just a few miles across the Utah border is the vast Great Salt Desert….several square miles of completely flat land covered with a thick layer of salt. The salt is the last remnants of an ancient inland ocean or sea that covered the area millions of years ago. Its surface is to perfectly level that it has long served as a testing ground for various speed tests conducted not only by private companies, but also by the United States government. There is not much to do there….except look….and be amazed by the miles of salt that stretch for as far as the eye can see.

 

 

 

 

 

Good old Salt Lake City. I have been there on every trip I have taken to the West Coast…..and that is several. I am not a Mormon….and I do not even believe many of their doctrines…..but I always enjoy visiting Temple Square and the neighboring Conference Center. Temple Square is the site of the iconic Mormon Tabernacle and the Mormon Temple. The actual church headquarters is located a few blocks away in a sleek high rise building. Apparently their church governing hierarchy is extensive enough to require a 20 story building….in addition to other building scattered across downtown Salt Lake City.

Temple Square is a walled compound covering probably four square city blocks….two blocks in each direction. Within its walls are peaceful, well-tended gardens, along with the Tabernacle, the temple crowned with a golden statue of Maroni (look him up), a church building and a couple visitors’ centers. Almost the instant a person enters one of four gates, he is accosted by two young female guides or hostesses….always with a smile on their faces. These young guides come from all over the world and serve for a total of 18 months. This is their form of church service….a counterpart of the male missionaries that serve for an equal period of time in a foreign country. These young guides will either take you on a personal tour of the compound….or more than likely, direct you to a regular tour group that is being conducted by similar guides.

The Mormon Tabernacle is….or me, at least….the highlight of the tour. In fact, it is really the only part that I really care about. The great egg-shaped building is a fascinating example of practical ingenuity both in its shape and in its structure. The original building was constructed using wooden pegs and leather straps to bind the building material together…..instead of metal nails which were not accessible to them at the time. The balcony is built on “stilts”, and at no point does it touch the outer wall. This is a major contributing factor to the almost perfect acoustics of the building…..a feature for which is is famous. All of the columns are made of pine wood…..and stained to look like marble. Actually, it was not until I had been there a few times that I realized amazing optical illusion. The benches are original….extremely uncomfortable. Maybe intentionally in order to keep people awake during services.

 

 

 

 

 

The centerpiece of the Tabernacle is the giant, iconic Mormon Tabernacle Organ, with its trademark pipes covering the front of the building…..and the organ with its five keyboards and dozens of stops.

Somehow….and I do not remember exactly how or when…. I started listening to “Music and the Spoken Word” on the radio. This is the longest-running program on radio….still active today. I would sit and listen to the program on WIBW in Topela….even though I lived in Lyons….before I went to church on Sunday morning. I was addicted to the sound of the choir….and especially to the tabernacle organ. And, it was a rare and exciting treat to be able to watch one of their Christmas specials on TV. To me, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and Organ were the epitome….the supreme example….of what a choir should sound like. But, like all good things….. As time passed, even the Mormon Church decided it had to “keep up with the times”. So, it added an orchestra….and relegated the organ to a rather minor role. Instead of being the supreme example of a church choir and organ….it became just another show-business act, trying to appeal to the “masses”….and trying to sell its recordings. At least…. That is my opinion.

The two visitors’ centers are a modern, high-tech display of the Mormon religion…of their doctrine and beliefs. It is done subtly and in a low-keyed manner. Actually, most of their religious message is presented in the form of short films. The person viewing the films….as a form of entertainment…. is probably not aware that he is actually being indoctrinated. On the other hand….. Most of them probably are not watching the films anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

After crossing the street to the Conference Center, we received a personal tour of the truly huge building by a personable guide. Fortunately, we could tell him the truth…. We had only 30 minutes left on our parking meter, and we were more or less in a hurry. The Conference Center houses the largest, unobstructed line-of-site auditorium in the USA….if not the world. It is a truly an amazing place. The Conference Center, too, as might be expected, is also home to a huge pipe organ….although not as ornate as the one in the Tabernacle. Twice a year,

Mormons from all over the globe….by invitation….come and participate in one of the semi-annual conferences. Rather amazing, considering the fact that not so many years ago, non-white or non-Caucasian people where not even accepted or welcomed as members of the church.

After leaving Temple Square, we were looking forward to additional sightseeing, but just like Yellowstone, for example, traffic was overwhelming. After driving around in circles a few time and looking unsuccessful for a parking spot, we gave up and concluded our attempt and visiting anything else…..except for a quick drive-through at the campus of the University of Utah.

The next two days were spent driving through Zion

National Park and Bryce Canyon National Park. Both of these national parks are packed with magnificent scenery. The rock formations are truly spectacular. Over the thousands of years, nature has worked its magic as only Nature can do. The wind….and maybe water, also….has chiseled the rocks into a beauty that only God can imagine. The shapes and forms are grandiose in scale….and intricate in design. The domes and peaks, the valleys and the canyons are elegantly formed….colored with hues of yellows, oranges, reds, and browns….and are framed by the bright green of the forests

that hover in the background.

Sultan said that Zion National Park is the better of the two….and he maybe right. But as I think back on them, they are almost interchangeable in my mind. Both of them begin at a low elevation and the highway winds its way upward, offering imposing views of the breathtaking vistas. There are numerable view-points in each of the parks that invite visitors to absorb the dazzling backdrop of Nature’s handiwork.

The National Park Service reports that Zion National Park is the 6^th most visited national park in the nation….right behind Yellowstone National Park. Judging by our experiences in Yellowstone….and also on the Oregon Coast….we were prepared for the worst…..traffic congestion….and more Japanese (!)…. However, we were pleasantly surprised to find that although the traffic was steady, there was no congestion…..and we had no problem parking in any of the observation point parking lots. Initially, we were concerned when we pulled into the parking lot of the visitor’s center in Zion National Park. The parking lot was packed….literally. This caused a few minutes of mild panic. But, as we started our trip into the park, we figured out that many….maybe even most….of the tourists had elected to park their cars and take the free shuttle buses that run through the park at regular intervals.

 

 

 

 

If our theory is indeed correct, this could well be a model the National Park Service may be well advised to follow in all of the national parks….at least the busy ones. This is a point that Sultan and I discussed….at least, I did. Sultan probably just sat and listened…. In heavily attended parks, such as Yellowstone, these open air tour buses would serve a couple important services. The most obvious service would be to eliminate the congestion that exists on the interior roads for the entire season. Traffic

would move smoothly. There would be no parking problems. Tourists can relax and enjoy the ride….and the scenery. Frequent stops would be made to insure that they do not miss any of the important sights. People would be able to get on and off any bus at their leisure. For those tourists who merely want a quick view and a picture, they can hop off the bus, take their picture and get back on the next bus that comes along. If buses arrive and depart every 5 or 10 minutes, this would be a convenient, non-frustrating way to see the park. If they are the kind of tourist….and there are a lot of them….that leave the car running, send their kids to take a picture….and are gone in 30 seconds. Well…. Tough luck. This will force them to “stop and smell the roses”….enjoy the park, maybe even see something they didn’t expect to see.

 

 

 

 

The second advantage seems to be that it will do wonders to preserve the ecosystem of whatever park we are talking about. Air pollution will be cut drastically….hopefully enabling natural plant and animal life to better grown and prosper. Simply improving the quality of life in the park will increase the longevity of the park….and the living organisms that we are trying to save and sustain.

Other by-products such as lower maintenance costs and lower personnel costs will also benefit.

OK…. So, even if the scenery in both Zion National Park and Bryce Canyon National Park are very similar….at least, to me. Sultan and I enjoyed the time we spent in both of them. We were fascinated and mesmerized by their splendor. And…. We were ready to move on.

 

 

 

 

Friday was another drive through seemingly endless desert and low mountain to Williams, Arizona, gateway to the Grand Canyon. After spending the night in a KOA Kamping Kabin, we started out early on Saturday morning to enjoy one of the premier natural attractions in the U.S.A. I had been to the Grand Canyon previously. It was in the 1978….almost 40 years ago. I had only vague recollections of what it looked like….although, of course, like everybody else, I have seen thousands of pictures.

There are, however, two things that stand out in that first trip of 40 years ago. At that time, I had a Pentax slide camera….with detachable lens….a telephoto lens and a wide angle lens….in addition to the regular lens. Buying and developing film was expensive. Back in those days, a person chose camera shots carefully: a representative shot of this, a representative shot of that. I recall taking pictures of what I thought was important and would remind me of the visit. I kept taking pictures and taking pictures. “Wow,” I thought, “I am getting a lot of pictures from this roll of

film.” That evening as we were camping….somewhere along the side of the road…. It hit me like a ton of bricks! The film had not caught on the sprocket. The film was not advancing through the camera. I had taken absolutely no pictures! Yeah…. I had snapped the shutter….but no pictures. My spirit was crushed! No pictures of the Grand Canyon! It was evening….far too late to do anything about it. So, on my first trip to the Grand Canyon, I returned home with Zero pictures.

The second thing that stands out in my mind about that first trip was something entirely unrelated to the trip. We found a relatively secluded place to camp for the night….back away from the road….in a little grove of trees. We proceeded to set up out tent for the night. Then we saw something we did not want to see: huge red ants. Huge red

ants crawling everywhere! They were giants. And, I can well imagine that one bite from one of them would put a person in a world of hurt. We stacked our stuff onto the picnic table while we debated what to do. Fortunately, as the sun disappeared from the sky, the ants apparently called it a day….and they, too, disappeared. Back into their underground burrows for the night, I suppose.

So….. If those two incidents were the highlights of our trip to the Grand Canyon, you can imagine how long ago it must have been….or how little we saw of the place.

 

 

 

 

But, not so this year. Sultan and I drove the entire distance of the Canyon….from the middle to the west; and after retracing out route…. then from the middle to the east. Maybe not the most time efficient way to do it. But…. Too late now. We have already seen it.

What can I say about the Grand Canyon that has not already been said? To begin with….it was not as crowded as I had expected it to be. Except for the parking lots at the tourists facilities…..and they were packed. As we drove the length of the canyon, we easily found parking places at all of the “pull-in” overlooks. And, also as I expected, the Japanese tourists were still following our every move! They were everywhere. I seriously doubt if any of them had a clue about the Grand Canyon…. How is was formed…. How long it took to form it….. The name of the river at the bottom of the canyon….. Or probably even what state is is in….. They saw it in a guide book….and there they were.

 

 

 

 

The Grand Canyon is fascinating…. It is truly “Grand”….. It is awe-inspiring….. It is mesmerizing….. Depending on the time of day….the angle of the sun…..where you are standing…. The colors of the rock formations change hues….various shades of red, orange, yellow, brown….are accentuated. And, the colors change as the light changes….as a person changes his viewing position or viewing angle….

As I stood or sat and looked out over the canyon, my eyes picked up hundreds of intricate details of delicate rock formations or exquisite colors…. The longer I sat and looked, more subtle details became evident. It is almost hypnotizing to sit and look down and out across the canyon. The old adage says, “You have to be there to appreciate it.” This, I think, is definitely true of the Grand Canyon. I have seen hundreds of pictures….most of them impressive and beautiful. But, my eyes are my best camera. Only they can fully interpret and decode the majesty and splendor that lies in front of them.

And….unfortunately…..all I was able to do that day was to be an observer. I hobbled from car to the viewpoints, all too eager to sit and “let my eyes to the walking”. Let me state….and state honestly….it was an accomplishment to even walk to the edge of the canyon where I could sit or stand and appreciate the great beauty of the canyon. The Grand Canyon can be a very interactive place. There are ample opportunities to walk along trails to become part of the experience. There is the famous Angel Trail that leads to the bottom of the canyon.

No, no, no….. I would not have hiked to the bottom of the canyon. Maybe thirty or even twenty years ago….maybe. But, I would have most certainly have walked some of the easier trails. But, like so many of our other national parks, most people come…look….take a few pictures….and leave. That is the category where I found myself…..but definitely not because that is the way I wanted it.

 

 

 

 

Even though I was not able to do any hiking, I encouraged Sultan to go exploring on his own. We agreed that he would be gone for about an hour. I gave him my camera….and off he want….leaving me rather forlornly alone. I sat and looked out over the canyon for a while….watched the tourists….and then returned to our rental car….and took a nap. When Sultan returned perhaps 60 or 80 minutes later, he was excited and exhilarated by his hike….of the scenery he had enjoyed….of watching other tourists…of various ages and states of physical fitness….as they also attempted to become part of the Grand Canyon experience.

After having covered the entire length of the canyon, we headed back to our campground in Williams…..both excited and satisfied with the experiences of the day. Both Sultan and I felt we had both seen and experienced the Grand Canyon. Maybe Sultan just a little more than I, however. We knew that it was not merely a “touch and go” experience. But, we had actually gained a rather well founded appreciation for the park.

We capped off our Grand Canyon experience by a visit to seemingly the only buffet available in Williams. The restaurant itself was unremarkable. It was an unusual….and embarrassing….experience that made the evening “memorable”. As we entered the restaurant, we paid for our meal up front…first…. I handed the woman at the cash register my debit card and asked her for some extra money to leave as a tip. She informed us that she was not allowed to give us any extra money….even though it would be charged to the debit card. This was an answer that I have never, ever, gotten for a request for extra money for a tip. Most places are all too happy to give the money….as much as I want.

I looked at Sultan. “Do you have any money?” It turned out that neither of us had and cash on us. I told her. She was sympathetic….but no extra money. “It’s OK…. Just want until your waiter has gone into the kitchen…..and then get up and hurry out!” was her solution. Actually, it was the only solution, I suppose! And, that is what we did. I felt rather bad about doing it…..but in reality, it was the restaurant’s fault. I wonder how many poor waiters are cheated out of a tip each day because of this policy of not giving the diners extra cash? To make the situation even more embarrassing, we were seated directly in front of a guy who was playing his guitar and singing. All through our meal, people would come up and put money into a jar….which I can imagine was the only money he made for his entertainment. But…. Not us. We tried to avoid looking at him….like that was going to do any good. But, fate was with us. He took a break….and keeping a careful eye out for our waiter…. We got up quickly and lost no time as we

headed for the door.

Our final sightseeing destination was Mesa Verde National Park….the Cliff Dwellings….in southwestern Colorado…..with an intermediary stop at the Four Corners. The Four Corners is the only spot in the U.S. A. where four state touch each other….Colorado, Arizona, Utah and New Mexico. It is not part of the national park system. It is owned and operated by American Indians. Thus, as one might expect, it is not so easy to drive to. The location is remote….in the middle of the desert, in fact.

I have been to the Four Corners three or four times previously, but this was, of course, the first time for Sultan. The afternoon we were there….a Monday….the sun was beating down relentlessly….with hardly a cloud in the sky. There are very few amenities….no cafes, no air-conditioned malls, no green parks with shade trees. It is just there….sitting in the middle of the barren desert. It is not like they had a choice, though. I suppose it may have been coincidental that Native Americans happened to own this land…. This land where four states just happen to join each other.

The site itself is merely a large polished concrete circle with the boundary of each state leading to the point where they touch each other. For those flexible enough….and I am not one of them….a favorite pose it to “be” in each of the four states at the same time. This is done obviously by putting one foot in each state and each hand in one state. Sultan, too, chose to merely stand and have our picture taken.

The monument itself….the large circle with the state boundaries etched on it….is completely surrounded by souvenir kiosks where the Indians are selling all sorts of souvenirs….predominately jewelry. I have no idea if this merchandise is produced locally….or if it is imported. It is pretty, and for those who like this sort of stuff, it makes a good souvenir to take back home. The afternoon Sultan and I were there, the attendance was sparse, so we had plenty of time to check out some of the stands….although neither of us had any interest in buying anything.

There was one item in which we were very interested… At least, I was. That is the native flat bread that the Indians make. I call it “Indian bread”…..but I doubt if that is the correct name. I had eaten this bread on previous visits…..and, take my word for it: It is super delicious. On the trip that Fayez and I took to the Four Corners a couple years ago, I had played up this bread as the possible highlight of the entire trip. We were both highly anticipating eating some of it. But….as usually happens in cases like this, the day we were there, we couldn’t find anybody selling it. Authentic Indian bread is only sold by Native Americans. It is not sold at Walmart! And it is made on a grill right before your eyes. Individuals work out of little kiosks. You order the bread….and sit at a makeshift picnic table to eat it. (Or, you can take it with you, too, I suppose.) So….Fayez and I left disappointed.

Sultan and I were much luckier. We spotted an Indian bread stand and headed straight toward it. We placed our order and talked to the friendly American Indian woman while she prepared the bread for us. With the sun beating down from a cloudless sky, the temperature was scorching. We took our bread….and some non-Indian made soft drinks….and returned to our car to eat it. Sultan wholeheartedly agreed that the Indian bread

had lived up to the advance billing I had given to it.

Having eaten our lunch…..and the Indian bread was our lunch…..we drove on toward the Cliff Dwellings. We arrived at Mesa Verde National Park in the late mid-afternoon. Although it was not as early as I had anticipated, we still had ample time to take a quick look. Fayez and I had explored much of the region about a year ago…..and there is a more complete description of the caves in that blog.

Briefly, however….. The Cliff Dwellings are the remains of an ancient Indian civilization….the Anastasia tribe. For some reason….and I don’t think anybody has figured out exactly why…..they built their homes….entire villages….into the side of a mountain….into the cliff….and then inexplicably disappeared. The remains of many of these dwellings were discovered and have been excavated. Looking across the deep, tree lined valley, they are visible from the opposite side of the canyon. Some of the dwellings appear to be multi-level structures, and they probably housed entire extended families….and were the

center of village life.

Although none of the Cliff Dwellings are entirely intact today, archeologists have been able to make educated theories about the different components of the structures. And, they have offered their best assumptions about life as it must have been lived out within that ancient society. They have fairly accurately identified their ventilation system….their means of storing water…..their methods of storing and preserving food…. They have also set forth their ideas on various structures within the main structure: ceremonial, cooking, sleeping, celebration…. Who knows if they are right. But, at least, there is a reference point as one is looking the decaying ruins. They have, I think, fairly accurately determined that these villages were reached by an elaborate system of ladders….ladders which enabled them to fairly easily come and go, as the perhaps tended their fields, gathered their harvests, hunted their prey.

One thing is obvious: It for sure was not an easy life….certainly not by our standards. I have no idea what they did for entertainment or relaxation, but we can be pretty sure that their life started at sun up and ended at sun down. We can be pretty sure life was “all work and no play”. We can be pretty sure that conditions were very cramped and crowded…..and personal privacy was something that did not exist. If we can believe the various drawings that have been exhibited, clothing was either “optional” or simply did not exist. It makes one wonder where intimate relations between man and woman took place. Or maybe they were not so uptight about things like that back then, For sure…. It was not a life that I would like to have lived or experienced. But, I can also imagine that their society was “advanced” for their time. And, just like us today….. They no doubt were on the cutting edge of technology for that period of history. “What you don’t know doesn’t hurt you.”

 

 

 

 

My knee was still hurting…probably even worse than before….so I knew that my participation would be looking at only the most accessible of the ancient ruins. For some reason, nothing in the park looked the same as I remembered it from any previous trip. And, at this point in the trip, I really didn’t care. However, I did want Sultan to enjoy the experience….to see and learn as much as possible. When Fayez and I were there, it was in mid-March, during this Spring Break. One of the major loops was still closed. I have a suspicion that this is the loop we chose to take. If we did….no wonder nothing looked familiar. I had not seen it before. But, fortunately, we did see much of the park….and most of the dwellings, I think.

During the entire afternoon, Sultan was awesome. He was helpful; he was sympathetic; he was understanding. Never once did he complain. He always maintained his trademark smile and his sense of humor….and he was always more than willing to lend me a helping hand….literally! Some of the paths to the view points were rather far from the parking spaces…..and the paths were inclined too sharply for me to walk. Sultan took my camera and cheerfully took the pictures while I waited for him at the car. Sultan was my hero for most of this trip.

The next night was spent in Santa Fe, New Mexico, in an unremarkable hotel and we ate in an unremarkable restaurant. That is all I remember. Some day I want to return to Santa Fe. I am sure it has much to offer.

After a brief stop in Taos, New Mexico, we drove on to Clayton, New Mexico, the next day….a Tuesday….where we spent the night. Taos is another tradition on any visit I make to the Southwest. I can clearly remember my fifth grade teacher talking about her visits to Taos…..and this had to have been back in era of 1948. She talked of meeting Indians selling their merchandise from makeshift tables or off blankets on the ground. She even had pictures to show us. She laughed when she told us never to pay the “asking” price for anything they had to sell. If a person paid that price…. Well, you made the Indians happy, of course, but they also knew they had a gullible sucker on their hands….and they could sell him anything. “They are shrewd bargainers,” she told us. That is probably where I first learned the word “shrewd”.

Even as a naive and impressionable ten year old boy, I was impressed with her black and while pictures…..and the variety of blankets, bracelets, necklaces, rings, pottery and paintings they were selling. And….in 1948, I think we can be pretty sure they had made this stuff all by themselves. This was long before the days of Taiwan, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Mexico….and all the fake “authentic” merchandise that is produced there today.

Today there are not any makeshift tables….and certainly no merchandise displayed on blankets on the ground. Instead there is another “quaint”, “authentic” replica of what is am sure is Spanish architecture….buildings clustered around a small town square…..complete with covered boardwalks and colorful displays of a myriad of colorful….but really, completely useless….products. Of course, this is not Walmart, so they can be forgiven for this, I suppose.

In the center of the “town square” is a mini-park with benches, statues and gazebo….and an attempt at landscaping. But, we didn’t stop because we wanted to admire the landscaping or to load up on impractical stuff to take home with us. We came to take pictures….. And, to use the public restrooms (!) …. and to buy the only item we were interested in: their fudge and toffee! Having accomplished those three goals, we were back on the highway heading for Clayton.

 

 

 

 

We drove on to Clayton, New Mexico, the next day….a Tuesday….where we spent the night. The highlight of this night was the opportunity to visit some old friends….a former colleague of mine….Sherry Lambert and her husband, Tom. My relationship with the Lamberts dates back to the late 1990’s when Sherry taught the business education classes in our high school.

More important…. She was very knowledgeable about computers. For some reason that I have yet to comprehend, I was appointed as Technology Coordinator for our school district. I may as well have been appointed chief brain surgeon at the Mayo Clinic. I could easily have written my total knowledge of computers on the back of a postage stamp. My main solution to all computer problems was to unplug it….and then plug it in again. (And fortunately, this was one of the major computer problems. The custodians had unplugged the computer so they could use their vacuum sweeper….and had neglected to plug in in again!) Sherry was always ready and willing to come to my rescue. There is little doubt that she should have been paid my salary for that position.

The Lamberts are a personable, intelligent and welcoming couple, and we always look forward to seeing and visiting with them.

When Fayez and I visited them a couple years ago, we arrived on a Monday afternoon….and the restaurant where we had planned to eat was closed on Monday (of course). We ended up eating dinner in an historic hotel….which was an equally neat experience. However, this year we arrived on a Tuesday, so we were able to eat in the Jack Rabbit Cafe….the place where we had wanted to eat. Actually, according to Yelp, it is the highest rated eating place in Clayton. The cafe specializes in Mexican food….and we all agreed that it deserves its high Yelp rating.

After we finished eating our dinner, we followed them to their house and spent the remainder of the evening in pleasant conversation. And, as we usually do…. We stayed much longer than we had intended. But, like they say…. Time goes fast when you are having fun.

Our final stop of the four week trip was in Oklahoma City…..the city where Sultan lived for a year or two while he was studying English. This stop was for Sultan’s benefit….not mine. He wanted to visit the family he had stayed with while studying English…..and he also wanted to meet up with a friend he had made while studying there. Thus, he was gone most of the time….including the night time….and I was more or less confined to the hotel. Even though I was not aware of this in advance, I made the best of the situation. I had looked forward to doing some sightseeing….but at least one of us had fun. Actually, by this time, all I wanted to do was get back home. My knee was continuing to hurt….walking was painful….breathing was difficult. I

probably would not have enjoyed sightseeing anyway.

Even with all the problems, the trip was awesome. Sultan and I had a lot of fun….we made a lot of memories…..we saw places I had never seen before….we stayed in places I had never stayed before…..we drove on highways I had never driven before….I took pictures I had never taken before….more than 2300 of them, in fact….we spent hours talking and laughing

This was the longest trip by car that I have ever taken….both in number of miles and in length of time. Even considering all the things I mentioned above, four weeks is too long to be away from home. Four weeks is too long to be constantly packing and unpacking a car. Four weeks is too long to be sitting in a stationery position regardless of the beautiful scenery we saw. But…. We did it. I am glad we did it. But, I was also glad when we drove into our driveway…and we were home again.

Sultan was nothing short of fantastic throughout the entire trip. He did 100% of the driving. He was always upbeat….helpful….encouraging….funny….concerned….and empathetic. Someday he will be a terrific doctor….and hopefully, MY doctor.