Tales from Towed Haul

April 30, 2014.  After breakfast we drove the two miles to Bryce National Park, where we spent several hours hiking the most amazing trails though strange “hoodoos”  in the vast canyons.  The pictures below tell the story better than I can — but my favorite was one hoodoo that looks exactly like Queen Victoria riding a camel.  That will probably change in the next few years, as the wind and rain are constantly at work rearranging the landscape.

At the bottom of the first trail, Brad and Mara and I took one route and the others set out on a much longer, more rigorous trail.   You might notice a theme emerging here about who is in the best shape! Doris was content to sit in the car in the shade for a couple of hours — I think she knows she dodged a bullet in not having to attend doggy day care as we had originally planned.  Later, Mara and I explored the lovely Bryce Canyon Lodge.

As it was still cold and very windy outdoors, we decided to dine in Towed Haul again tonight.  I cooked Chicken Marbella, which turned out fine in the crock pot.  More great wine from the Spencer cellars and warm brownies was all we needed to wind up another great day in the wilderness.

In other news:  The Braves completely bombed out against the Fish in the last two days.  Hiss.  Also, we have been following with alarm the news of the recent tornadoes and storms across the South and Midwest.  The lovely places we saw in Tupelo and Arkansas were devastated by tornadoes this week.  It is always a sad thing to read about, but this time we felt the loss more acutely having just passed through there when all was right with their world.

Get a load of these hoodoos and related marvels in Bryce:

April 29, 2014.  Boy, did we have a fun dinner last night.  Within the circle of our three Airstreams (ala ccovered wagons), we reposed in camp chairs over cocktails in the shadow of the sun-streaked canyons of the Virgin River.  Vickie and Rufus and Bill showed us the incredible pictures of their hike in The Narrows.  The water was literally to their waists in some places — but generally about calf-high. (You understand that these are averages, as knee-high to Bill is waist-high to Vickie, but you get the idea — the trek was not dry or easy). The canyons in The Narrows were so high, their camera shots could not reach the top.  I’m glad I went shopping instead.

For dinner, we had a great feast of beef rib stew with parsnips, carrots, mushrooms and red-wine (thanks for the great recipe, Joyce), homemade cole slaw (thanks Polly!), fabulous wine from Richard’s cellar and several kinds of dessert, which we ate around the campfire.  The Airstreams were decorated in all manner of lights, from “tasteful” white Christmas icicles (ours) to pink flamingos to colorful little Airstream replicas.  We were worthy of the cover of Live Riveted! magazine.

This morning, we packed up the residue from the night before and left Zion National Park, via the breathtaking switch back curves of Route 9 through the canyons and the mile-long tunnel.  Brad and I had come in that way, but the others were seeing it for the first time.  I got some great shots of the Airstream caravan as we wove though the Zion canyons for the last time.

It didn’t take long get to Bryce Canyon — a couple of hours.  The scenery along US 89 was so pretty and varied.  My favorite views were those of expansive flat farms with split-rail fences, newly greening trees, curvy trout streams of swirling opaque light green water (due to silt from melting snow) and the distant snow-covered mountains on the horizon.  Right before reaching Bryce, we passed Red Canyon Park and circled back this afternoon for a short hike though really incredible bright red rock formations — see some pictures below.

The temperature plunged into the 20s tonight, so we opted to move our feast indoors —  selecting our Airstream because of the floor plan.  Our dinette seats four and we added a camp table and two camp chairs for the other seating.  We were VERY CLOSE friends for dinner, but had a wonderful time.  Bill grilled steaks and sweet potatoes and Polly fixed a wonderful  salad of grilled romaine lettuce!  Richard’s great wines of course, and some board and dice games from Rufus and Vickie, provided the entertainment.   Another perfect day.

Hoodoos in Red Canyon

Hiking in Red Canyon

Dinner in Zion

Dinner in Zion

Mara and Bill

April 28, 2014.  Two weeks into the journey and still no calls to our divorce lawyer!  We had toyed with the idea of getting a side car for the Airstream to bring him along, but we decided that may prevent us from qualifying for passage through some of the tunnels out here, so we didn’t.  So far, we don’t regret it.

Today, we split into several contingents to mill about smartly in Zion.  Rufus, Vickie and Bill went for an 8-hour hike in The Narrows — can’t wait to hear their descriptions and see the pictures — walking and wading through the icy waters of the Virgin River at the narrowest point between mile-high canyons, ears pricked for the tell-tale sounds of a possible flash flood!  Richard spent a couple of hours this morning working while Polly made brownies and cole slaw for our feast tonight.  They later went for a good hike in the canyons and just came back looking healthy and invigorated.

Brad and Mara and I had a great time this morning.  We  scoured Airstream Classified.com to see what is available in the way of a late-model International 27FB.  Found a great one in TX for a five-digit steal!  SPOILER ALERT — Mara will surprise Bill with it later tonight.  We cut up vegetables for our beef rib stew for tonight and got that started in the crock pot.  Then, Mara, Brad, Doris and I went exploring antiques stores and art galleries in the area and had lunch in Springdale.  (As we were driving out of the campground, Brad spotted our Dutch friends from Lake Powell (Margoralina and Barry)!  We invited them to join us for dinner, but they were heading out to their next destination.  How funny to run into them again — I really did not expect to.)  At a wonderful old museum/gallery chock full of antiques and Native American curios, I bought a beautiful hand-woven Navajo rug in the Red Mesa design and a small framed picture from 1938 of Mexican calendar girls modeling their fancy dresses.  It (the rug) is in muted tones of red, orange, gray, white and dark brown — I’ll probably hang it on the wall in our new sitting room at the farm to remind us of this great trip.   I also got (at a different store) two folk art chickens made by photo-identified Navajo individuals from the Four Corners area.  If I had looked in all the booths at Four Corners Monument, I probably would have seen these and definitely would have gotten them there.  I’ll just pretend that I did!

In the town of Springdale, several of the galleries have wonderful wind vanes made of silver or copper verdigris that swirl in eye-catching dances in the steady wind — some moving slowly like somnolent ballet dancers, other spinning like dizzy dervishes.  We studied them carefully for the best one to take home.  So far we have not homed in on one — plus they are ridiculously expensive.  $1,100 for the lotus one my heart currently desires.  I’ll sleep on it — which usually cools my ardor to a manageable degree.

Back at the ranch, we are trickling in from the day’s activities and looking forward to a camp fire and communal pot luck dinner followed by s’mores and tall tales.  Tomorrow we pack off to Bryce Canyon, not too far away.

Brad, Mara and Doris shopping in Springale

Lunch spot — good tacos!

April 27, 2014.  The rain disappeared overnight and we awoke to a fantastically sunny cool day.  The newly arrived Airstreamers did an admirable job of getting organized, taking showers, eating breakfast, and getting set to tackle Zion all by 8:30 am!  I am really impressed.  We all walked the 1/2 mile to the entrance to Zion National Park and took the super-easy Pa’Rus Trail, a 3.5 mile stroll along the banks of the Virgin River at the foot of the canyons.  Although it was quite beautiful, it was not nearly enough of a challenge for the athletes in this crowd.  It is the only trail that allows dogs, however, so at the end of that trail, all the others took the park shuttle on up the canyon to scope out which “real” trails they would take this afternoon — ranging from a death-defying trek up an impossibly steep and narrow path to the knife-edged top of Angels Landing (so named because before they made the path, only angels could land there) to a fascinating but equally perilous (maybe) hike/splash into The Narrows where distressingly common flash floods have been known to accelerate quite a few estate plans.  Brad and I walked back into town with Doris, stopping at the Human History Museum, which seemed like a pretty broad topic, but about our speed from a physical exertion standpoint.   We all met back at the campsite for a picnic lunch.  Vickie and Rufus graciously offered to keep an eye on Doris while Brad and I rode the park shuttle to the top of the canyon, which takes about 2.5 hours.  It was a great speed-read of Zion.  Depending on bravery and athleticism one could really spend several days here hiking though the unbelievable beauty of the canyons, meadows, rivers,  grottos and aeries of Zion; provided one is not a dog.  They don’t really accommodate dogs at these national parks — perhaps because they are not taxpayers, as a general rule.  Doris, she don’t say nothing (see evidence below of her good-natured disinterest).

Vickie and Mara hit the trails at Zion.

A pleasant path at Zion

A stroll in Zion

Zion

Zion

The Virgin River

The Virgin Riverr at our campsite at Zion

Doris shadow dancing

April 26, continued.  Good heavens.  I know that by now that you think I am nothing but hyperbole, but today’s stint from Lake Powell to Zion was well worth confirming that impression.  To set the stage, yesterday at Lake Powell was just like being at Seaside FLA without the cute houses, sidewalks and trendy boutiques.  That is to say, it was pleasantly sunny, warm and made you feel kind of stylish, regardless of your age and reality.   By nightfall, we were ready for the air conditioner (a very noisy affair in the Airstream).

This morning, we were surprised to see a touch of rain and temperatures in the mid-60s.  Since we had a drive of only 116 miles, we were not in a terrific hurry to get underway.  We left at about 10 am and headed north on the 67 mile drive to Kanab UT.  We were astounded that the terrain changed as soon as we left Page, and continued to change around every bend in the road.  First, we came upon what is referred to as the Grand Staircase, a dramatic geologic phenomenon that looks just like it sounds.  Then we noticed a change in the predominant color of the rocks to a sort of light green, which Brad says is due to the copper content in the soil (I wonder whether he knows these things or if he is just making it up as he goes).  Next, a completely different kind of rock formation called toadstools!  Around the next curve, we came upon dinosaur fields and museums devoted to that sort of thing.  Then the windows fogged up and it started SNOWING!  Remarkably, it still looked as if the temperature outside the car was in the high 90s, except that the snow began to accumulate and covered the ground in nothing flat.  It was very disorienting, so as soon as we got to Kanab, and even though it was just 11:30, we threw up our hands, pulled into McDonalds and had Quarter Pounders with fries — just to regain touch with the real world.

A half-hour or so later, the world underwent another total transformation.  Just a few miles past Kanab, we entered Zion National Park.  The ranger checking our credentials at the gate was quite friendly, especially to Doris — which put us at ease, given all we have heard about how dogs are not permitted to exist in Zion except within unreasonably tight confines.  He told us (as we already knew) that we would be going though a one-way mile-long tunnel and that we would have to wait for a while for the traffic to get going in our direction.  The 13 or so mile drive before the tunnel was so intoxicatingly beautiful and more dramatic that ANYTHING we have seen thus far, that we kept pulling off the road at every opportunity to gawp and take pictures.  (We have vowed to come back this way on the way out.)  The tunnel was cool, but not as scary as I had anticipated, and when we emerged, we found ourselves on a series of switch-back curves that made a mockery of curvy roads in, say, North Carolina or a Nascar racetrack.  We arrived at our campground about five minutes after Richard and Polly, who had scoped out three campsites for us that are all together (as much as possible).   They brought drinks and goodies over to our Airstream and we watched the Braves game until Vickie & Rufus and Mara & Bill arrived.   We watched them set up camp and then all convened at Towed Haul for a Champaign toast to Richard’s birthday and our good fortune of being together at this wonderful place.  Given the rain and cold, we decided to eat dinner at a local restaurant and save our campfire culinary feats for other nights.  Looking forward to more good times ahead!

entering Zion National Park

April 26, 2014.  The long-awaited day that we meet our friends from GA and WYO in Zion National Park!  I understand the Atlanta contingent is already gathered in Las Vegas, where they will pick up their Airstream, spend a couple of hours learning to hook it up, work all the systems and drive pulling a 3.5-ton trailer.  Piece of cake!

Richard and Polly from WYO are arriving first today and will scope out three adjacent campsites (we hope).  At Zion, the campsites are guaranteed, but are available on a first-come basis.  Up till now. we have been able to reserve a specific spot, which is nice.  They also have offered to have us all to dinner tonight at “their place.”  Polly is a grand cook, so that will be a real treat I am sure.    I have come prepared to cook for the crowd on three nights this week.  I have a bin in the truck with all the non-perishable ingredients for Chicken Marbella (from the old Silver Palate cookbook), white chili, and a great beef rib stew that my friend Joyce makes.  We bought the fresh ingredients in Cortez yesterday.  It is a little hard to manage refrigerator and freezer space for a week’s worth of groceries, but we did it fine.

Yesterday afternoon, Brad took a tour of Glen Canyon Dam and then we drove around Page to see what it is like.  It is a town that (like Las Vegas and Hoover Dam) exists only because of the dam construction.  It is not particularly remarkable other than that.

When we returned to the campsite, our Dutch neighbors were just returning from a foray to a beautiful canyon somewhere nearby — set up as a photographic tour.  They invited us over for drinks to show us the photos they captured.  Just amazing.  We enjoyed meeting them (they are both mathematitions, Jay) and we hope to see them in Zion, where they are heading next.

Packing up now to head to Zion!

Our Dutch friends at Lake Powell

April 25, 2014.  Happy Birthday, Chylon and Betsy!

Yesterday we had a breakfast feast with Jack and Barbara in their kitchen.  Nothing like eggs and bacon and English muffins with jam and toast to send one packing into the desert.  We double checked to be sure we were not forgetting anything: Clean laundry?  Check.  Brad’s new cowboy hat?  Check.  Lots of bottled water?  Check.  Doris?  Check.  Good directions out of Durango?  left, right, left, left, left.  Check.  Off we went.  About an hour later as we cruised along at 55 MPH in fearful obedience of the traffic laws, here came a blue Subaru along side of us, going 90 or so, with Barbara frantically waiving us over!  OMG!  We had forgotten all of Doris’ luggage — food and treats.  Barbara was amazing to chase us down with it.  It was great to see her again — we were already suffering withdrawal pangs.  A second set of good-byes and we hit the road for good.

We stopped in Cortez to buy groceries and gas — on the map it looked like the last chance for at least 300 miles.  Thus fortified, we set out across an unbelievably vast expanse of Indian Nations, first Ute then Apache and Navajo and probably some others that I didn’t realize we were in.  Not long into the journey west, we came to Four Corners Monument, a remote oasis (of a commercial sort) in the desert, where one can stand simultaneously in Utah, New Mexico, Colorado and Arizona.  It was a pleasure for us to pay the $5 per person admission, as the Native American population here has such a limited opportunity for commerce.  In fact, I don’t see how in the world they make any headway given the land they have been relegated.  It is like the surface of the moon — rocky, sandy, and dry as a bone.  We passed dry “rivers” identified as such only by the name on the sign — no water in sight.  Around the four corners monument are about 50 booths set up with Native American crafts for sale.  We saw  wonderful examples of horse hair pottery, sand painting, silver and stone jewelery and something I had never seen before — pottery vessels decorated with meticulous images and scenes using needles.  I wanted to buy something at every booth, but that was of course impractical.  I settled for one turquoise necklace, two pairs of earrings and a bracelet.   The “needle vase” I had my eye on was $250, so I just admired the hell out of it and moved on.  One thing interesting: they had a sign at the entrance saying don’t even think about scattering human remains here; they find that extremely offensive.  Dang!  I always carry around an urn or two to scatter at places I like — like a dog leaving a liquid message to indicate his recent visit.

On across the desert for 4 more hours on a straight road that I swear they used on the front of our Good Sam’s atlas as an advertisement for the RV experience.  Flat expanse of red rocky land as far as you can see, relieved only by strange, stunning mesas and buttes on the horizon and sometimes right at roadside.   None photograph well with an iPad.  When we were approx 150 miles in any direction from any living thing on Earth, we pulled over and visited Towed Haul for pimiento cheese sandwiches and ice-cold Coca-Colas and a clean restroom.  Some kind of wonderful!

Back on the road, we looked forward with much anticipation to the one turn indicated on the map, where US 160 intersects with US 89.  In my boredom, I looked up that intersection on google and read an alert that a section of US 89 between us and Lake Powell (our destination) is impassable in either direction until further notice — due to a landslide in 2013.  Yikes!  Would we have to live here in the desert until further notice?  I wished I had paid more attention to making horse hair pottery.  But then, elsewhere on the internet, I saw the good news!  The AZ DOT had commandeered from the Navajo Nation what is otherwise a sand roadway known as Navajo Route 20.  Now paved, lined and fenced at the expense of the Federal Highway Administration’s emergency relief program, it serves as a US 89 detour running directly from The Gap (a town) to Page (another town), thus cutting 32 miles off our original route.  When US 89 is repaired, AZ will give the improved detour back to the Bureau of Indian Affairs and it will be referred to again as Navajo Route 20, with maintenance handled by the Navajo Division of Transportation.  These highway improvements might be an advantage to the Navajos, but perhaps will be seen as a desecration.  I’m not sure.

Lake Powell is the result of the impressive yet controvercial Glen Canyon Dam, completed in 1963 over the upper part of the Colorado river.  Our campsite is part of the Lake Powell Resorts and Marinas in an area called Wahweap.  It is beautiful and looks out over the bank of the bright blue lake, as we have come to expect!  Last night we invited our neighbors, a couple from the Netherlands, to join us for a martini to watch the sunset.  They are on a two-month visit across the US in a rented RV.  They gave us a tour of their rig and we showed them Towed Haul.  It was a fun evening.  We grilled hotdogs for dinner and slept the sleep of the dead — glad to be among some green trees.   Today we’ll tour Glen Canyon Dam — or at least Brad will if we can’t find a solution for Doris.

In the meantime, we took Doris for a walk to the shore of Lake Powell.  It was the highlight of the trip for her so far.  She had quite a frolic chasing a stick into the cool waters and getting rinsed off in her personal outdoor shower.  It’s Miller time.

New wallpaper

View from our site

Brad studies up on Glen Canyon Dam

Doris and Brad greet the day

Lake Powell close-up

Doris gets the scent

Doris goes for it!

Got it!

What a treat!  Today we rode on the Million Dollar Highway to Telluride.  This two-hour drive took us through high mesas burgeoning with new grass, alongside the Delores River swirling with muddy waters fed from melting snow, into the ragged snow-covered mountains of the Western Slope.

Just short of Telluride, we stopped to visit the tiny village of Ophir, where Barbara’s daughter Robin and her husband Asa have a charming cottage amid the aspens in a valley surrounded by vertical mountains and avalanche fields.  Oddly enough, April is the least attractive time for this area.  Jack and Barbara agree that winter, summer (i.e., the month of July) and autumn are in a three-way tie for the most beautiful seasons.  In July the aspens’ shimmering lime green leaves and stark white bark join with wild flowers of every color to cover the floor and walls of the valley.  In fall, the aspen leaves turn to brilliant gold.  The winter snow brings its own familiar beauty.  The tiny bohemian houses in Ophir, none of which exceeds 1800 sq ft., are home to doctors, accountants, lawyers, artists, writers, and professional ski bums.  Their communal joie de vive is evidenced in the playful designs of the cottages.  I would love to spend a weekend here.

Around the bend from Ophir is the extravagant Mountain Village, dotted with the opulent ranches and get-aways of the rich and famous,. including Tom Cruse, Oprah Winfrey, Meg Whitman (founder and former CEO of eBay) and, believe it or not, Brad’s and my high school buddy KC Murphy from Jesup GA!  If we had his address we would have popped in on him.  Instead, we toured the quiet off-season ski village and ogled the real estate offerings in the Sotheby’s window.

From there we continued to the actual town of Telluride, an old mining village turned ski resort.  This is a real town with citizens keeping shop, attending school, manning the library and generally living the good life.  Barbara’s daughter and son-in-law live here at the base of the gondola that soars over the range to Mountain Village and the joint ski slopes of the two resorts.

After a stroll through the colorful houses and city park, we had a late lunch in a local bakery.  The trip back to Durango was just as pretty in the reverse.  Now for a brief rest and contemplation of our final dinner tonight with old friends to end this wonderful interlude in our Airstream adventure.

Tomorrow morning, Brad and Doris and I will set sail for Lake Powell in Page, Arizona.  That will be a 4 or 5 hour drive through the dry deserts of Apache and Navajo reservations.

April 23, 2014.  Yesterday was fascinating.  We began with a bird’s-eye view of Durango from a high plateau above the Animas River, on the campus of Fort Lewis College.  Very steep hiking and bike paths wind their ways up the embankment from the town below.  At the apex, travellers are rewarded with a clearing with round picnic tables with boulders for seats and a panoramic view of the surrounding snow-covered La Platas mountains.  Barbara explained that the Durango area is in the throes of a serious drought and that the river is very low for this time of year, when the snow melt normally gushes into the valley and greens up everything in its path.  We toured the college campus, public golf course and chapel – all at the top of this teeming metropolis of 15,000 and then went down into the town itself.  Durango is a charming old Western town, with more restaurants and art galleries than your can shake a stick at.  Barbara and I ducked into several shops, while Brad, Jack and Doris waited patiently in the sun on benches lining Main Street.  We stopped for lunch at the Diamond Belle Saloon in the historic Strater Hotel, an experience straight out of Gun Smoke.

From Durango we headed north 25 miles to Purgatory — the ski area where Jack is an instructor.  The resort is closed for the spring, but we got a good insider’s tour of the facilities and can imagine how wonderful it is when things are in full swing.  Jack and Barbara ski there three or four days a week and, without fail, run into friends there every time.   They have really carved out an idyllic life here, having been very thoughtful about finding a place to spend their retirement: combining perfect weather, a college-town community with the attendant culture of art, music and performing arts, a host of like-minded friends, and family nearby.  It is refreshing to see them so obviously in their element.

After a nap and cocktails, we went back into town for dinner at a local Southwestern restaurant.  Sitting around the table, we collectively solved all the problems of the world and came back home for dessert and coffee.  Another great day in the books.

Today we will set out again on new adventures with Jack and Barbara.  Not sure what they have in mind.  We’ll venture out as soon as Jack returns from his board meeting of the Women’s Resource Center here in Durango.  He is the second male in the history of the organization to be invited to join the board.

April 22, 2014.  We are in Durango CO at the lovely home of our great friends Barbara and Jack who used to be our neighbors at the farm.  I can’t believe that was 12 years ago!  Good heavens.  They claim to remember us — if they don’t they should be Broadway actors!  Barbara welcomed us with open arms when we arrived at tea time yesterday.  Jack took a while to get here from wherever he was at the time — he has so many activities in the area: ski instructor, community organizer, consultant, PGA pro, etc.  What a guy!  I forgive them both for not having changed one iota in the last 12 years, but that is possible due only to my strong moral fiber — it is not easy.  They are making fun of me for wearing “Atlanta” clothes and are tying to get me into jeans.  I refuse – some things are just not right.

After a fabulous dinner of salmon, asparagus, and some kind of fancy potatoes, followed by a pear tart with caramel sea-salt gelato and coffee (Barbara was a caterer at one time and should be still), we talked till midnight — recalling old friends and chronicling the trajectories of children and dogs.  It was wonderful to wash a load of clothes and sleep in a real bed for a brief respite from trailer living (which we still love).  For someone who didn’t bring any clothes with him, Brad sure got a lot of things dirty in a week’s time.  He must have been stashing outfits in the truck bed.

Today Barbara and Jack are going to take us around Durango and maybe on the Million Dollar Highway to Telluride.   This is an incredible place and they are totally hooked in and in the know.  I’ll let you know what happens!