Painted, Petrified, and Howdy Pardner

We left the Sleep Inn Lucky Lane, Flagstaff, and were on our way to the Petrified Forest. Decades ago, my grandparents brought a piece of petrified wood back from their cross-country vacation and gave it to my parents. It was colorful, shiny, and hard as a rock. I never understood how wood could turn to stone. Now that I have visited the National Park in Arizona, I understand a little better. I think. Once upon a time there was a flood, but not the one with the Ark. Lots of trees were uprooted and washed downstream and landed in the Petrified Forest National Park. Over eons, alkali got into the cracks, holes, and weak spots of these underwater trees, and solidified them into priceless works of art. It is tempting, while walking along the marked trails of the park, to bend and pick up a little piece of petrified wood to keep as a souvenir. Resist the temptation or you could soon find yourself in handcuffs having a free ride to the Sheriff's office (not necessarily the one with the Saguaro cactus). The Rangers protect the precious petrified wood, and even put out a green form for visitors to complete if they see anyone taking the wood. Bonnie took one of the forms in case we encountered anyone showing criminal tendencies along the rest of our vacation. We traveled the 28 miles through the park, as well as the 3.5 mile loop at Blue Mesa, and stumbled into a dark theatre at the visitor center while the "Timeless Impressions" video was being shown. We got to see most of it without disturbing too many other visitors. Those that want to bring home a legal piece of petrified wood can buy it at shops or the Visitor Center. When you drive out of the Park, the Ranger stops all cars and asks if anyone has taken anything from it. Donald told the man that they picked up a couple of women in the park, indicating Bonnie and me. The nonstop comedy of it all.

It was 87 delightful degrees, another perfect vacation day, and after seeing our fill of petrification, we decided it was time to have lunch at the little diner at the Visitor Center. The menu was basic American fast food fare, and good.

The Painted Desert was beautiful and loaded with photo ops. There was even something called Newspaper Rock, which had petroglyphs, carved by Native Americans, which acted as solar calendars. Not having the key to this ancient puzzle, we could not unlock its secrets, but it was fascinating anyway. The striped rocks were very cool also. I was never

good at Chemistry, and luckily this did not detract from the beauty of the area.

Enough of the desert for us for the day. We were thirsty and hungry and a little tired. We got to Gallup and checked in to the Sleep Inn. There was a

sign at the hotel, "Welcome Rodeo Riders", and some of us silently wondered if there would be galloping up and down the hallways tonight. We then drove around a bit in Gallup to see what was happening. We found the location of the rodeo, and we saw a pawn shop. Bonnie thought it would be fun to visit it. I don't know about the rest of our party, but this was my first pawn shop. Ten minutes was a long enough visit, and the longhorns wouldn't have looked THAT great on the front of the GM.

Golden Corral, here we come! This was where I saw one of my favorite (missed) photo ops of the trip. The restaurant was filled with rodeo riders, male and female, who were relaxing after a busy day in the saddle. Every one of them was cute, and none of them was over 12. I saw a back view of a pint-sized rodeo hero complete with boots, black hat, and big belt buckle, and he was strutting out of the restaurant toward the family truck. Snapping the Grand Canyon and Painted Desert was one thing, but snapping people we don't know is just plain rude. Rodeo seems to be as big in New Mexico for young kids as soccer is at home.

Once darkness fell and we were at the hotel, we heard some fireworks. Bonnie and Clyde heard a few trains overnight, but nothing like Flagstaff two years ago. We watched a little of the Coke Zero Daytona race, and found out the next morning that Tony Stewart won. Happy Fourth of July!

Fourth of July Eve

Day 17, July 3rd, and up early at the Canyon to see the sun rise. How often will that happen in a lifetime? When planning the vacation, getting up at 5:00 am for such a special moment seemed like a splendid idea, and I was all for it. On the morning of the big day, only Bonnie was willing to make the effort, because the rest of us decided sleep was more important. Bonnie surprised a mule deer near the South Rim, and followed it to the car, getting some great photos. Once I got up, the wildlife had moved on, but I got a few shots of the South Rim.

After a fantastic breakfast, same table, different server, we checked out and headed for some more South Rim sights. The mule deer appeared a couple more times during the morning, and we also saw some pack mules on their way to carry heavy loads of the human variety down, down into the Canyon. We stopped at Mather Point, Grand View Point, Desert View and Watchtower. The sky was blue, the clouds pretty and puffy white, and the tourists were few. It was a perfect day. And the Grand Canyon stays still for every single photograph. There wasn't a single blurry photo the whole visit.

We were sorry to say goodbye to the Grand Canyon, but it was getting ever closer to our next meal. Bonnie had found Cameron Trading Post for lunch. Fantastic gift shop, fantastic restaurant, fantastic service. Bonnie and I split a side order of Navajo Fry Bread, which is identical twins with Fried Dough. Only somehow better. The piece the server brought us, accompanied by sugar, cinnamon, and honey, was as large as a dinner plate. The burger I ordered did not come on a bun. It came sandwiched between two more dinner-plate-sized Fry Breads. I did not eat every last bite, but came very close. The beverages were handled by a separate server, and this system worked very well. No one went thirsty. After that fabulous lunch, I waddled out to the gift shop to burn off some calories walking up and down the aisles, occasionally power lifting attractive items. The whole place was part tourist attraction, part local favorite, and I gave it my highest endorsement. Make the effort to stop if you are in the area.

Once we all had our fill of the Trading Post, we headed for the Wapatki Monument, which we repeatedly had trouble pronouncing. The amount of lava in the area is mind boggling, and I was really fascinated by the black lava, which looked as if asphalt had been spread on the hillsides. Occasionally there would be a tiny sprout of green vegetation poking through it. Sorry, I got no photos of the lava either. Wapatki Monument was on a meandering 38 mile desert road, and included pueblo ruins. The highlight was a 100 room pueblo. Unfortunately, a lightning storm cut our visit short.

We reached Flagstaff, our destination for the evening, and checked into the Sleep Inn. We learned the hard way to be careful where to book a room in Flagstaff. Hearing the trains go through, whistles blowing, every hour on the hour all night wasn't so much fun the first time it happened to us, two years ago, although the desk clerk at that particular Quality Inn said she "loved the trains". The Sleep Inn was far enough away so that we would not be sleep-deprived in the morning. We made a visit to a laundromat, named Just Like Home (not), and there Donald won a free wash & dry the next time he returned by answering the question of the week, "What was the first breakfast cereal to be manufactured in the US?" (Shredded Wheat). I committed a landromat faux-pas when I tossed a used dryer sheet into what I thought was a trash barrel but was actually someone's laundry basket. I took it out as soon as I realized, but still got dirty looks. All the other laundromat clients seemed to be related.

After that enjoyable hour, we brought all our newly washed clothes back to our rooms, then went to Cracker Barrel for supper. Comfort food was what I needed. I don't remember what was on my plate, but I'm sure it's still on my hips. Afterward we took a scenic little ride around Flagstaff, for it was July 3rd and things could really get popping later. Clyde cruised us by the Quality Inn we stayed at two years ago, still near the tracks, and the parking lot was full of college students of the male variety. I could only imagine the hi jinks that would go on all night long. If we had booked here the train whistles would have been the least of our problems.

Thank you, Bonnie, for booking us far from the kegging crowd.

London Bridge, the Sheriff, and a Canyon

Day 16's dance card was looking good, and I was excited to get underway. We passed up breakfast at Fresh Market Square, and chose to have McD's in the food court. It felt like dieting. Today when we passed over the Colorado River, Donald changed the time in the GM. We took 95 toward Needles (named for Needle Mountain), heading for the Grand Canyon. But first we had a stop to make, at London Bridge in Lake Havasu City. The city looks brand new. First Italy, and then London - we were really covering ground on this trip. It was 101 degrees as we strolled around and snapped for a while, then we staggered our way back to the car. No matter what some may think, dry heat is HOT.

We made a brief stop at the Sheriff's Office as we exited LHC for a photo op with a cactus. Donald and Clyde said that the Sheriff opened the front door of the Lockup (the lockup???) to see what we were doing, decided we were harmless tourists, and went back inside. Seeing a saguaro cactus was one of the things I had wanted to see, so I could check it off the list. I still hadn't seen a moose, but we had eight more days of chances.

On the next part of our journey, we encountered some T&L storms, and the temperature dropped to 63 degrees, from 101. Bonnie and I nearly needed our blankets. The sky was ominous - heavy, dark, and low - and we drove through a wall of rain. This was the worst weather we had encountered yet. Once the rain lightened a bit, we decided to do something wild & crazy - have lunch at a restaurant NOT on the dance cards. We stopped at Westside Lilo's on Route 66 in Seligman, AZ. It was a nice find, full of locals, and our server brought us the biggest glasses of soda that I have ever seen. The french fries that came with our sandwiches covered half the plate, and were so good that it was hard to stop eating. Route 66 is the original land for kicks.

Our next stop would be the Grand Canyon. We fueled the GM at the Chevron near the park entrance, then entered through the park gates at no charge, thanks to the National Park Access card. Age has its privilege. We saw signs announcing a controlled burn and requests for no phone calls about it. We could smell smoke and saw some burned areas.

El Tovar, our lodging for the night, was beautiful. It is smaller than Old faithful Inn, has no elevator, but has gorgeous carpeting, furnishings, and windows. It was charming. Our room, #6480, was right at the top of the stairs, and we gathered up the luggage and a very kind staffer carried it all up for us. What a pleasant surprise. Our room view was of the roof and also of the GRAND CANYON. There were no ghosts or even rumors of ghosts. There was just the hush of the Grand Canyon, with the voices of other equally awestruck visitors.

We decided to go out for a little mobile sight-seeing until our dinner reservations, at 6:30. We had been having trouble with the time all day, because parts of Arizona don't keep the same time as other parts. We forgot to ask the desk clerk when we checked in, but as we were driving around checking out the other lodges, we saw a young Ranger ticketing illegally parked cars. We pulled over to speak with him, and Donald, who was supposed to ask the time, instead asked what time the Park closed. The Ranger thought Donald said "path" and we realized the Massachusetts' accent wasn't working. The upshot was that the Park never closes, and the Ranger said we can go out and party all night (especially funny considering his audience) and then return any time. I asked the Ranger if it was 4:20, because that's what my watch said. Funnily enough, it was.

Dinner in the El Tovar dining room, where we had window seats at table #11, was pricey but excellent. Our server hustled with the speed of a tortoise, although he had a pleasant personality.

The gift shops in the hotel and the nearby stone building offered much in the way of souvenirs. The views of the Grand Canyon were spectacular, and changed from minute to minute. It would have been easy to sit for hours and just watch the show. We stayed outside and walked and snapped until we got tired and cold. There was a TV at El Tovar, so we could catch up on the news of the world and the weather for tomorrow. Hot and sunny, probably.

We had trouble deciding which we enjoyed more, the Old Faithful Inn or El Tovar.

Buffet Addicts Anonymous

24 more hours in Vegas, and we would make the most of it, in our own little ways. First stop was the buffet, where we purchased our meal tickets for the day and settled in for our first meal. The food was varied, the selection enormous, the flavors unsurpassed. Donald, not usually a buffet aficionado, said it was the best food of the vacation. After breakfast, we strolled off to the pool area, having left our rooms suitably attired for a swim. We spent a relaxing few hours under the trees but in the sun. Later, at the slots, where I had given myself a gambling allowance, I am ashamed to say that I got gambling fever and just knew that the next one would be the BIG ONE. I went far over my allowance, and was finally able to break myself away, but not until I had lost a whopping $31.

We took a Vegas road trip and visited the Venetian for a taste of Italy. It was lovely, and the closest to Italy I have been since visiting the Italy pavilion at EPCOT. Then the day was a round of eating, resting, shopping, gambling, until it was time to get ready for the 7:00 showing of Ka. Donald and I had previously seen Mystere and La Nouba, and looked forward to this show with anticipation. On line it had looked amazing, and I wondered how a sandstorm was going to be represented on the stage. (With lots and lots of cork, I later learned.) Ka was interesting, but I think it lacked the incredible athleticism of the previous two, and became my third favorite Cirque show.

At 3:30ish am, we, and probably many others on the fourth floor of MGM, were awakened by running bare feet in the corridor - lots of it - and female shouts of, "Run, Lisa, Run!" None of us felt like leaping out of bed to look through the peephole or to call the front desk to report it. There was much speculation between Donald and Clyde for the next few days about what Lisa and friends might have been doing. And wearing. What happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas.

July 1st and Day 15, and Laughlin, here we come. We stopped at Sam's Town Casino for the Buffalo Stampede and Fountain show, shooting eight stories into the air while the waters dance in the lights to a symphonic score recorded by the Indianapolis Philharmonic Orchestra. We were ready for some CULTURE. Sam's Town also sponsors a NASCAR Nationwide race, the Sam's Town 300. We walked in, eager to see the show, and we asked several staff members about its location. Maybe they were new because they didn't know what we were talking about. That wasn't a good sign. Once we found the woman who knew about the show, she gave us the news that the 10:00 show had been cancelled. Waiting around in the casino with the three other patrons currently there didn't appeal, so we left after photographing some splendidly fake-looking wildlife in their fake-looking habitats.

It was 103 degrees when we got back in the car at 9:30. Nice! We passed through Henderson and Boulder City, and cruised onto 95S to Laughlin. Out in the desert, and there was lots and lots of desert, we saw giant solar panels, sheets of them. Clean alternate energy sources are always interesting, like a science project that somebody else made. Once on 163E, we were watching for the Sacred Mountains, which we knew were on the road approaching Laughlin. We were unsuccessful, but we did see many red cacti on the desert hillsides.

We got to Harrah's early, around 11:00, and our rooms were not ready for us. No matter, we needed gas, so off we went across the Colorado River into Arizona and a different time zone. I guess a river is as good a state line divider as anything. We checked mileage, as usual, with the fill ups, and it was one of our lowest at 18.84 mpg. That's Vegas, baby.

Back at Harrah's we had a nice (buffet) lunch at Fresh Market Square, then we all got Player Cards so we would be eligible for the 5:00 drawing for $100. We spent the afternoon at the slots, walking around the hotel, and just hanging. We did not win the $100 or even the second or third prizes. We consoled ourselves by visiting the pool area, the beach, and the river side. And with supper at the buffet.

Bakersfield to (Texas de) Brasil

It's Day 13 and we're headed for Vegas after a hot breakfast at the Clarion. There were some stunning bordello-type faux crystal chandeliers leading to the breakfast room, which was under construction at the time of our visit. We weren't sure if the chandeliers were the before or after.

At 5:54 am it was already 83 degrees - woohoo. We had reached 116 yesterday, and we wondered if today would top that. At home it was still rainy and in the 50s and we all appreciated the excellent weather that had been sent our way. Donald had the complimentary USA Today from the hotel, and announced that Billy Mays, pitchman, had died after bumping his head during a rough landing.

We passed what looked like thousands of windmills in the Tehapatche Mountains in CA, and thought with regret of the resistance to this source of power back home. The temperature dropped 20 degrees in less than an hour in the mountains. We spotted some mountain goats so far in the distance that they were just white specks. In California City, out in the desert, there was an airport with a small control tower but really big planes. It was close to Edwards Air Force Base. Hmmm... Also in the paper was an obituary for Gale Storm; that made two celebs. We hoped there would not be another. The papers and TV news were filled with Michael Jackson.

Along Route 15N toward Nevada, we were treated to signs with the Ten Commandments. Fortunately none of them is about overeating. That is covered by the Deadly Sins, but no one had thought to put up signs for those.

While driving through the desert with overcast skies above, our good weather luck faltered. We passed through three different storms; the second, and worst, had 48 drops of rain. There was a sign for a town in California called Zzyzx. What imagination some people have! Once the sun came out, the GM said it was 100 degrees. We then drove by the World's Largest Thermometer in Baker, which said it was 96 degrees. Which one do we believe? Then we saw some fantastic advice on a sign not far from Death Valley, "Avoid Overheating - Turn A/C off Next 16 Miles". Sure we will!

We reached Nevada at 9:50, and immediately exited for a casino, the Primm Valley Resort & Casino. It wasn't to gamble, it was to see Bonnie & Clyde's car, bullet holes and all. The car attracted quite a few tourists, and no photography was allowed. Yes, it was morbid, and we did not stay long. We had a buffet to visit, and were in time to catch the breakfast price. Changeover time at buffets is a very special time because there are foods from two different meals and you are charged the lower price. We dined and geared up for our upcoming Vegas visit.

Happy, full, and anticipating staying at the MGM Grand for only $50/night with a $35 meal credit thrown in, we arrived not long after leaving Primm. We had a detailed plan in place. Bonnie and I would leap out of the car at the front door, run in to register, and then hurry to the Concierge to buy tickets for the Cirque de Soleil Ka show for the next night. Clyde and Donald would take the GM to the nearest Terrible's for an oil change, as the check engine light had come on after 3,000 miles. It's important to treat a rental with the same respect as one's own, especially when driving exorbitant distances. Yes, we would be reimbursed. Once the oil change was done, the men would take all the luggage and meet us in the lobby. Sounds easy enough, unless the hotel is the size of two football fields, which I think MGM is. Maybe three football fields. With a gigantic parking garage, which is where Clyde & Donald were when the called us. After half an hour of, "Can you hear me now?" and "Where are you?" and "WHAT??? I can't hear you!", we finally hooked up in the garage. We all rolled our way to the fourth floor, with the help of the elevator, while Bonnie and I told the men that procrastination pays because we got the Cirque tickets for half-price.

Our rooms were fantastic, and we had B&W photos of Sophia Loren and Tyrone Power in ours. MGM didn't stint on star photos, and they had even put them in every bathroom stall of every restroom. After a brief stop in the rooms, we looked around the hotel a bit, locating the pool and restaurant of choice (the buffet, naturally), and saw a sign that nearly brought tears to my eyes - dine all day at the buffet for $29.99/pp. But that was for tomorrow.

Bonnie had made dinner reservations for us for that night months ago. We had both used multiple email accounts with multiple anniversaries and multiple birthdays to join the Texas de Brasil eclub to receive coupons. Since dinner is $50/pp, we needed all the help we could get. We didn't get the email until we were half-way across the country, and were fortunate enough to find a Choice Hotel that had a printer available to guests. The coupon said only one coupon per table could be used. At the restaurant, we explained that we both had coupons for our anniversaries, and could we sit together? No we could not. Could we sit near each other? That was allowed. We had already had one buffet meal that day, but we gamely accepted this new challenge. I enjoyed the side dishes as much, and maybe more than, the parade of beef and chicken that made it to our table. We had never seen anything like it.

We rolled our way out of Texas de Brasil and back to the MGM, where Bonnie and Clyde decided to try their luck. Donald and I felt like dead ducks, so we decided to turn in. After all, it was 8:45. Tomorrow would be another long day of eating, and I wanted to be rested and ready.

A Bridge, a Barrel, and Bakersfield

We said goodbye to Ukiah and the (best yet) Comfort Inn before breakfast. We had over six hours of traveling ahead, plus tourist stops, and breakfast wouldn't be served until 7:00 am. Too late! At 6:28 am, the day was already gorgeous and sunny, and we passed one winery after another along 101S, through Mendocino and Sonoma Counties, names we had heard only on TV until then. Breakfast could have been at a Golden Corral for a fantastic buffet, but, alas, there were none to be found, so McDonald's in Windsor it was.

We paid the $6.00 toll to use the Golden Gate Bridge, which had very little traffic that Sunday morning, arriving there just before 9:00 am. After dropping a few quarters in the meter, we followed the rest of the tourists to the viewing area. The day was only slightly foggy, and we appreciated our good fortune in having such a clear view of everything, except Alcatraz, which was slightly fogged in. We walked and snapped and learned that, on a clear day, bridges are easy to photograph. A little shopping for a T-shirt, hat, and a mood ring, and after forty minutes we were ready to move on.

After asking Susie the age-old question, "Do You Know the Way to San Jose?" we were off again on 101S, right through the lovely city of San Francisco. We saw cable cars, lots of people, hilly streets, but no Rice-a-Roni. No matter, we were going to see the Winchester Mystery House, which Sarah Winchester, heir to the Winchester Rifle company, kept in perpetual construction until the day she died. There were crews in the house every day, and as anyone who has ever had any home remodeling, this had to have gotten old fast. Since we chose not to take the $31.00/pp tour, we would never know why she did what she did. We did, however, overhear a tour guide pointing out that Sarah Winchester's bedroom was adjacent to the head carpenter's... The estate was stunning from the outside, and Bonnie and I enjoyed the gardens while Clyde and Donald checked out the small weapons museum. By 12:00, we had seen and shopped enough, and it was 100 degrees. Time for lunch. Cracker Barrel was on the dance card, but we came upon a Marie Callendar's in Gilroy, and couldn't say pass it up. We skipped the pie, however, and got onto 152E, the first step of our journey towards home. It was June 28th, Day 12 of 24.

We reached the Mohave Desert, and watched the temperature gauge rise. There were several signs along the highway that read, "Congress Created Dust Bowl". We saw the Pleasant Valley State Prison, a classic oxymoron. We stopped at a rest area, and saw a family of five in a very small car from British Columbia, with windows wide open, all red-faced and sweaty. It was 111 degrees and they had no A/C in the car, the poor things. What could have been important enough to that family that they subjected themselves to this? Along the way we saw paddle cactus - not the scientific name - by the roadside. I'll let you guess how easy they were to photograph from the back seat of a car moving at 70 mph.

It was 116 degrees by the time we reached the Clarion in Bakersfield (hometown of Kevin Harvick, driver of the #29 Shell Penzoil car). Balmy! Roll those suitcases in with jaunty steps because there IS an elevator. Supper was at the Macaroni Grill on Buck Owens Boulevard, and was fantastic and my favorite meal of the vacation. The restaurant was not very busy, although it was actually a normal supper time, not the early bird time, and our server confirmed that the recession had hit Bakersfield particularly hard. We did our small part by eating, sleeping, and fueling in that city, and hoping that economics would soon improve.

We went to sleep with the realization that, with all that we had seen and done, vacation was only half done.

Shining Sea II

The day started on a high note - a really high note. There was a hot air balloon sailing/cruising/blowing overhead in Grants Pass. A hot air balloon shouldn't be too difficult to photograph, however I'd rather not talk about it. We soon reached Redwood Highway 199S, our first time ever to see Redwoods, and also to head south on this vacation.



Suddenly the low tire pressure light came on in the Grand Marquis. This had happened to both Donald and me in our own cars when the weather became freezing cold. Why it came on now when it was only down to the 50s was not something I wanted to think about. Luckily I was not driving, so I didn't have to make any decisions. We came upon a little service station in the middle of nowhere, and Clyde pulled the ailing GM in. There was a nice man working there, and he went into action. Clyde and Donald had gotten out to explain the situation, and also I think because few men can resist the lure of a garage. Bonnie and I stayed at our posts in the back seat. We got excited when the man rolled out the jack, because we knew we were about to see some NASCAR-type action. The pit crews of our favorite drivers can change four tires, clean the windshield, and fill the tank in 14 seconds, so we waited to see how quickly one lone man could change one lone tire. We started the stopwatch. He jacked us up with a couple of strong pushes, then he got the wheel off and put it in a bathtub. Then he put a patch on it and lugged it back on the car. The culprit was a screw. It was more than a 14 second pitstop; it was more like 14 minutes, or maybe even 34 minutes, but we were fortunate that the nice man was there, and that he only charged us $12. The low pressure light went out, and we went off in a cloud of dust.



We reached California at 7:37 am. I expected to immediately see miles of beaches. Perhaps we would, as soon as we reached the coast. We made a quick stop at a rest area to check on the newly patched tire. All was well. There was another car at the rest area that was overheating like Old Faithful, and we hoped that that story would have a happy ending. There was a Ranger in the parking lot, ready to offer assistance. The next stretch of road alternated twists and turns, rock walls, and big trees. It was not a relaxing road for a passenger, and must have been even more difficult for the driver. But it was as scenic as anything. The trees were skinny, and had reddish colored trunks. Interesting, but we were waiting for the REAL Redwoods, not just red wood. The temperature dropped about 20 degrees in 20 minutes right before we reached the coast, the coast, the Pacific Coast! As the temperature dropped, the gas prices climbed; $3.19 a gallon was prevalent. No matter, we were IN CALIFORNIA. We stopped at the first real beach we came across, in Crescent City. We saw a jellyfish and some crabs in the sand, and touched the water. Felt just like the Atlantic. The fog was dissipating and the area was beautiful. The northern coast was one photo op after another.



We reached the Redwood Forest and despite knowing what we were about to see, we were still astounded and enthralled by the size of the trees, and the darkness of the forest. Clyde had the great idea to take the scenic byway, and we saw even more trees. We were out of the GM at every turn-off on the winding roadway, and there were plenty of turn-offs. With the exception of one vehicle being in a hurry, everyone on the roadway of the Redwoods was there to enjoy the sights, and everyone was zipping along doing about 25 mph - when the road was straight. In between forests we saw a herd of elk near - amazingly enough - Elk Prairie.

Once along the ocean again near Orick, CA, we saw a sign that read, "deadly sneaker waves and dangerous surf". There were also "Tsunami Danger Zone" signs along the highway. We stopped for lunch in Eureka at Marie Callender's, and both Donald and I spilled blueberry pie in our laps, although most of it made it into our mouths. Nice. Next stop was Ferndale, CA, a Victorian town that exceeded all expectations; shops and photos and a perfect 73 sunny degrees. While we were there we witnessed some kind of all-hands-on-deck fire emergency, with firetrucks and volunteers are heading out of town as fast as their trucks would carry them. We didn't find out what caused all the excitement as we had to go see more Redwoods on the Avenue of the Giants. We made a wrong turn and nearly ended up in a California Correctional Institution, but Clyde executed a quick three-point turn and we were out of there.

The temperature reached a balmy 93 degrees by 3:17, but we were comfortable. The Redwoods continued to be amazing. (Note to B - there was an empty Pabst Blue Ribbon can at the base of one of those beautiful Redwoods.) We passed through Mendocino, where "Murder She Wrote" was filmed. Or maybe we just saw a sign for it. We did see a music festival, or at least passed by one, with Emmylou Harris as the premier attraction. It looked like a mini-Woodstock.

We got to Ukiah at 5:32. The Comfort Inn & Suites was (were?) fantastic, the best lodging yet. It had a Platinum rating, and served a full hot breakfast, starting at 7:00 am. Unfortunately we would have to be on the road before then, and would look for something equally fabulous elsewhere on our way to seeing what the Travel Channel rated as the best bridge in the world (or something like that).

Another Whole Day in Oregon?

I went to high school with a girl who was born in Oregon, and she never stopped talking about how great it was and how she wanted to move back. She pronounced it in two syllables - ORE-gun. Recently on Facebook, I saw that she had fulfilled her dream. I had expected trees and lots of them; forests as far as the eye could see. The desert areas were a surprise. Knowing we would be traveling through 130 miles of desert the morning of Day 10 didn't give me the warm and fuzzies, but at least the temperature had only reached 57 degrees by 8:00 am, not anything like a heatwave. If we broke down and had to wait for hours in the car, we wouldn't feel like oven stuffer roasters.


We made it through the desert, survived the outhouse along 395, and when we saw Lake Abert we were revitalized. It was gigantic, very shallow at the shoreline, and was covered with thousands (or at least hundreds) or birds. Surrounding the lake were boulders and orange-stained rocks. This was a really bright orange and looked like paint. Who knows what kind of geological excitement had caused these extraordinary sights. We certainly didn't, but we knew we didn't have rocks like these at home. When we saw a man taking water samples from the lake, we decided we didn't want to linger.
Our dance card highlight #1 for the day was Old Perpetual Geyser in Lakeview. Bonnie and I had read that this was Oregon's only continuously spouting geyser, shooting a plume of 200 degree water over 60 feet into the air every 90 seconds. We could take a break and sit in the relaxing waters from the geyser. It was located at Hunter's Hot Springs. Sign us up! We like to relax! With the help of Susie and Lucy, we found Hunter's Hot Springs. Unfortunately, Old Perpetual was nowhere to be found. No matter, we still had the Oregon Vortex to experience.


Meanwhile, we sat in some serious traffic along 140W. Eventually the pilot car came to lead us away, and we saw that the delay was caused by a street sweeper. Okay! Maybe the streets were really messy. Couldn't have been from those beautiful Oregon pine trees, of which we still had not had a glimpse. We did reach a National Forest at last, and the broken off branches of the pine trees had bright green moss on the ends of them, looking as if they had been dipped into green paint. They were quite interesting and pretty, although difficult to photograph, as are all woods, lovely dark and deep. We saw trees that we called mini-sequoias which whetted our appetite for the Redwoods we would be seeing once we reached California.


Lunch time came none too soon, and we had decided to try Schlozsky's Deli, a national chain that we liked the sound of but had never tried. With Susie's guidance, despite being told we had reached our destination, we never found Schlotzsky's. No liverwurst, no pastrami, no corned beef for us today. We settled for roast beef at Arby's, and told ourselves that we would find another Schlotzsky's another time, another place.


Our after lunch drive was followed closely by a big snow-covered mountain, and not having our PCs with us, we had to improvise, and called it Mt. Shasta. We still do not know what the true name is. The county mascot, per a sign, is the white pelican, with 10' wing spans. We looked eagerly at the lakes but were unable to spot any white pelicans. Perhaps they were out looking for Schlotzsky's Deli. We passed an emu farm in Brownsborough and saw genuine emus.


We decided to give the Oregon Vortex, highlight #2, a miss. It was once considered a sacred place by Native Americans, whose horses refused to walk there, and that was enough to convince us we didn't want to go there either. Plus cameras were not allowed.


We reached the Comfort Inn, Grants Pass, OR, around suppertime. After dropping our luggage, minus the laundry bags, which were threatening to take over the trunk, we headed out to a local laundromat. It lacked the ambiance of the Buffalo, WY, laundromat, and there were no car or pet washes in sight. We spent an hour, and came away with the knowledge that if one is wearing a muumuu, one should make sure it is adequate for the task. Clyde and Donald have images of Eileen in her muumuu burned on their retinas for evermore.


We made a quick stop for gas which was pumped by an attendant, something we had not yet encountered on this trip. It is the law in Oregon, providing thousands of jobs. Then we were off to supper at Buffalo Bill's Train Depot, or The Depot, as the locals call it. The ambiance was better than the food, but the ambiance was enjoyable. On the drive back to the hotel, we saw a plethora of classic cars cruising the streets. It was Friday night, after all. We, however, had bigger fish to fry - tomorrow - so we were off to bed early. As usual. Still sunny outside, still kids, more large than small, playing outside.


Tomorrow, California, here we come!

Where Were You When You Heard...

Comfort Inn sent us off with a good breakfast under our expanding belts. We hit some gravel road along Route 15, and saw a sign, "Avoid windshield damage 35 mph", and another, "75 mph, 1 mile = 48 seconds". We appreciated being kept informed. We saw Massacre Rocks, an area caused by a great flood 16,000 years ago that filled the whole place with a lake that covered Utah. There were very high rock walls. We also saw the first of Snake River, which was to follow us into Oregon or vice verse.


Then we came upon Shoshone Falls, and although we had seen nearly enough of Idaho's water falls, we decided to check these out. The access road was winding and we followed it slowly, down, down, down. There was a very small admission fee, then we headed further down to the parking lot. The falls were absolutely beautiful, and we thought they looked like a smaller version of Niagara. Plus there was a rainbow. Or two, and a splash of photo ops.


We ran into a pronghorn herd on Route 84, but not literally. They were still difficult to catch with a camera. Time for lunch! We found a Marie Callender's in Boise, highly recommended by family, and here the dessert was the star. I can still taste that Blueberry Cream pie. Boise had loads of restaurants to choose from, but we made the right choice.






We crossed into Oregon at 2:30, and immediately learned that the state rock is the Thunder Egg. Another state that keeps us informed! Vale, OR, was charming, with murals depicting the Oregon Trail pioneers painted on many of its downtown buildings.


The down side of the desert hills of Oregon was the lack of cell service. I received a text from one of our ducklings saying she had narrowly escaped being rear-ended on her way home from work, but I could not respond then. Route 20 through southern Oregon was lonely and desolate, and we saw very few vehicles or even houses. Even the sagebrush that was with us through Wyoming and Montana seemed to have left the building. Then around 3:00 MT on 6/25/09, we received another text from our duckling saying that Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, and Michael Jackson had all died. We were on the road between Juntura and Drinkwater Pass.


Farm lands eventually took over from the hills, thankfully, but somehow we missed seeing the sign for Stinking Water. What imaginative town names. They make Massachusetts' towns like Stow and Concord seem so plain.


We reached Burns, OR, at 4:15. Yay! It was a long day of traveling, seven hours, and it was good to reach our hotel where the nice desk clerk gave us a discount. She also mentioned that they had just had a two week spell of rain that ended only three days ago. Then we were off to supper at the Meat Hook, which looked like the only place in town. It was a nice little family-run place with a life-sized replica of the family's prize-winning bull near the front door. The walls were literally covered with ribbons from state and country fairs dating from 1947 to the present. We didn't ask how many bulls were involved.

We had been getting daily TWC weather updates for weather at home, and found it amazing that it had rained there every day that we had been on vacation. This rain would continue for three weeks, basically until we got home bringing the good weather with us.

Yellowstone II

Our first stop at Yellowstone was at Roosevelt Lodge, for lunch and shopping. While we waited for a table, some of us went out to sit in the rocking chairs on the porch, some of us browsed. Architecture was early American tinker toy, and I loved it. We were seated at a window table on a beautiful sunny day, and enjoyed the view inside and out. Our server patiently answered all of our questions about the Park. He told us that he lived with his girlfriend nearby in Park housing, and occasionally they saw bears on their short walk to work.

On the road after lunch, we saw a stork on the lake. We saw the Continental Divide, elevation 8,391' along the route to Old Faithful Inn, where we would spend the night. We registered and went up the our fourth floor rooms across the hall from each other, in the West Wing. Bonnie and I had read about the West Wing being haunted, but were not overly concerned about possible midnight disturbances.

Six months prior, we had made dinner reservations in the dining room of the Inn for 7:45, in the hopes of seeing the sun set while we dined. We had a couple of hours to wait, so we walked around the hotel, enjoying the rough hewn wooden construction and multi-storied lobby. We saw firsthand where Disney got their inspiration for Wilderness Lodge. We also joined other guests on the second floor rooftop viewing area for the biggest draw of the Park, Old Faithful. Every ninety minutes, give or take five minutes, the geyser would do its thing, and it was due to blast off at 7:25. We had gotten permission to be late for dinner in case the show lasted too long. We took seats on the benches with all generations of guests, everyone anticipating what was to come. Some people were so excited that they were giving premature announcements. "There it goes!" was heard many times. We also overheard many reports of wildlife sightings, from bears to bald eagles to wolves. We thought about our bison, stork, and chipmunk sightings, and kept silent. Old Faithful may be the most well known geyser at Yellowstone, but it is only one of probably thousands. It, and the others, spout steam all the time, and the cooler the weather, the more noticeable the geysers. It was time - there went Old Faithful, spewing white steam and bubbling white ectoplasm or something chemical, and we oohed and ahhed with the crowd, then booked it to the dining room.

Dinner was a buffet - quelle surprise - but the most elegant one we would experience this vacation. The selection was limited but excellent. Buffalo, chicken fricassee, trout, mashed potatoes, corn, salad, soups, bread and pudding were the offerings. The presence of white linen tablecloths and napkins made me sit up straight. We spent a whole day's food budget on this meal, but it was a special place. After dinner we did a little shopping in the gift shop, and I got ghost beads to ward off evil spirits for Bonnie and me, and also a few for souvenirs. Evil spirits can be found everywhere, after all. Back to the rooms we went. I followed the phone directions for a wake-up call but was not successful, so I called the front desk. The nice lady said that they would send someone to knock on our door (?) at 5:15 am, but we did receive an actual call at that time. There was no TV in the room - how quaint - and the bathroom was like something in a B&B, and lovely. We spent an uneventful (no ghost sightings) night in Room 4072. In Room 4073, when Bonnie got up in the night, the bathroom floor was moving, and she had to hold on to the walls so she didn't fall down. She had neglected to wear the ghost beads to bed...

4:24 am and I was up and at 'em, ready for another day. The breakfast buffet would start at 6:30, and we would have the car loaded and ready to go before then. Clyde made an early trip to the GM with some bags, and Bonnie said Clyde was moving the car to the side door. Down in the elevator Bonnie, Donald, and I rode with our bags. The elevator buttons did not have ordinary numbers, they had things like M and L. We picked the wrong letter but didn't realize it until I had gotten out and Bonnie was in the elevator doorway. The door started to close on Bonnie, and the three of us were trying with no success to push the door open. It didn't help that we were laughing, or that Clyde, 1/2 floor down, was pushing that floor's elevator button. After a long thirty seconds, we all got ourselves back in and were able to finish the ride to the L level, where Clyde waited. We tried to explain what happened, but we didn't really know. Maybe it was the West Wing ghost having some fun.

We had breakfast, another fantastic buffet, and enjoyed seeing a bison, horn decorated with evergreen trim, outside the dining room window. Later we had the opportunity to photograph the bison while it stood head-first in some shrubbery, no doubt thinking it was being camouflaged. After we got into the car to leave Old faithful Inn, a firetruck, siren wailing, raced to a stop outside the Inn door near the elevator that we had used earlier. We let our imaginations run wild about what the trouble could have been, anything from a medical emergency to a serious elevator malfunction to - you guessed it - the West Wing ghost.

We were going to finish up the west side of Yellowstone this morning, and our first attraction was a herd of bison, fortunately not in the road. They were very close to it, however, so we kept moving before they decided to cross. We saw Fire Hole Lake, lots more geysers and basins and steam and boardwalks with warning signs. There were lots of warning signs, but there have to be so that people will appreciate how near death or horrible burning they really are. The sulfur smell permeated the air and kept the crowds moving. We saw a beautiful blue pool that was almost too steamy to photograph properly in the 37 degree air.

We were fortunate enough to see a bald eagle in its nest just before we left Yellowstone, and were also fortunate that traffic on our side of the road was not backed up because of it, as was the incoming side. We left the Park at 10:00 am, and were in Idaho by 10:15.

Idaho seemed to consist of potatoes and water falls. We could smell potatoes, and even potato chips, at times. We saw Mesa Falls, Upper and Lower, and were annoyed by the mosquitoes. There was an outhouse by the falls that we chose to forgo. Lunch was at another DQ, in Rexford, ID, and we reached the Comfort Inn, Idaho Falls, early, around 2:00. Tired from the excitements of Yellowstone, we rested until 5:00, then headed for Olive Garden for supper.

Idaho Falls is a beautiful city with a water fall in the heart of it. We saw a tremendous amount of families walking around the village green after supper, and also a Mormon temple. Was there a connection? We stopped for gas at a Stinker Store station, where Donald said he saw the meanest, most miserable woman he had ever seen working behind the counter. Maybe she was upset because she couldn't go out and walk with everyone else.

What I remember about the Comfort Inn was the shower; the floor creaked and the spray was so forceful that I think it left bruises.

Next Stop Yellowstone

Day 7, the much anticipated Day 7, had arrived. We had prepared by getting to bed early, and by discarding all remaining cookies, snacks, and candy. We knew that grizzly bears can rip window frames off of cars, and can smell anything with sugar or even smelling like sugar, even through car trunks and ziploc baggies, and weren't going to test the effectiveness of our "loss of use" car rental insurance coverage unless absolutely necessary.

We hit the road at 5:04 am, and it was dark and cold, 46 degrees, and out came the blankets. Breakfast would be on the road. We approached Red Lodge, MT, along Route 90, and saw assorted wildlife; cattle, horses, a dead porcupine, and a lonely chicken walking the train tracks. We didn't see any other vehicles on the road. Breakfast was at Cafe Regis, a combination restaurant/organic corner grocery store. The food was fantastic, especially the homemade muffins and preserves. The locals came in with their own coffee mugs. We were on the road after breakfast at 6:57, and at 7:00 am, we reached the road that Charles Kurault called the most beautiful highway in America. The Rockies, the chipmunks, the snow, the altitude, the drop-offs, the rocks, the woodchucks, the ski-club, the narrow roadway that climbed higher and higher up to what felt like the top of the world was everything Mr. Kurault claimed. It was 36 degrees and 11,000+ feet elevation, and we were all in shorts, but we weren't especially cold. Must have been a DRY cold.... There was a man there with the ski/snowboarding club who said it was "nice" that day, and that yesterday had been 20 degrees. This was June 23rd. Clyde maneuvered the GM along the many, many hairpin turns, averaging a speed of about 14 mph. We saw few other cars, but there were some gigantic snow-removal tractors sitting idle, thankfully. There were snowbanks or maybe glaciers along the road that were higher than the car. The 64 miles from Red Lodge to Cooke City, MT took us 2:50 hours.

Cooke City's main street was a dirt road, and every time a vehicle passed a cloud of dust would rise. After the exertions of Beartooth Highway, we stopped for English muffins and liquid refreshments at a funny little casino/restaurant. We visited the gift shop across the street, and enjoyed stretching our legs after the long morning in the car. We were in for another long ride, as Yellowstone Park was not far away, and the more walking we could do, the better. The rest of the ride to the park was on the same dirt road. The effects of the car wash from Buffalo, WY, were now just a memory, as the GM and every other car around was covered in dust.

We knew from researching that there would be construction on the approach to the park, and that there might be a thirty minute wait. We sat in the long line of cars, turned off the car, and waited. We also knew that this was the least utilized entrance to Yellowstone, and it had the unmatched scenery of Beartooth Highway to recommend it, so we waited patiently for the "pilot car" to return to lead us onward. We watched the trucks drive back and forth in the entertaining process of laying drainage pipes for the entrance road. It was only a fifteen minute wait, and not only did we finally reach actual pavement, but the Rangers didn't collect any park admission from any of the cars, perhaps as a concession to the long wait.

Our first views of Yellowstone Park were of trees, and lots of them. Then we got into the flat lands - prairies? - and the wildlife sightings began. We soon were stuck in a ''buffalo jam''. This wasn't because a herd was slowly crossing the narrow roadway, their tails swinging happily. This was because two buf - I mean bison - were standing in the road as still as statues. There was no tail swinging, and no sign of intelligent life. There were two lines of cars coming from both directions watching this spectacle of frozen life. Some impatient driver blew the horn. The bison chose to ignore this breach of manners. Eventually, one bison strolled off in search of a green pasture. The other one must have had a late breakfast, because it wasn't moving. Some drivers decided to drive around the remaining bison. Most of us just enjoyed the experience and used our zoom lenses until the bison got bored and moved on to join his friends on the other side of the road. What a great intro to this world-famous park! This was going to be a fabulous place, as long as no grizzlies got a whiff of my vanilla-scented deodorant or coconut shampoo!

History Lessons

Today was to be another "short" day of travel driving, only 2.5 hours. Our first stop was Sheridan, Wyoming, home to the Sheridan Inn, from whose front porch Buffalo Bill Cody once interviewed acts for his Wild West Show. It was restored to pristine condition, and our only regret was that we arrived too early to get into the building for a closer look. Still, walking where Buffalo Bill once walked, seeing where he once sat in a rocking chair, and seeing the building with 69 gables whose interior he leased but never owned, was still an interesting experience.

We were off to Montana, with a quick stop at the Welcome Center. There was a rabbit lounging around on the grounds, undisturbed by our presence, but the birds that had made nests in the light fixtures along the walkway into the building weren't any too happy with our presence, and if any of us lingered too long reading the info signs, we would be dive-bombed. Donald was unfazed. We noted that the first exit number in Montana on Route 90 was 589. They grow the states Really Big out West.

At Little Big Horn, we took a tour with Apaasloke Tours, and our guide was Thomas, a Crow college student. I believe Thomas is so steeped in the history of that battle that there is nothing he does not know about it. My opinion of Custer rose considerably after hearing the detailed history of those few days. Little Big Horn has the solemnity of Gettysburg, another tragic battleground. It gave us much to think about.

Back on the road, we were all ready for lunch. Bonnie and I had wanted for years to eat at a Sonic, and since we had a change of heart about our original lunch plan due to serious overcrowding, we found a Sonic with the help of Susie. We pulled into the parking spot, anticipating service on skates. First stop was going to be the restrooms, but once you have angled the car into its spot, there's no way you're going to be able to open the doors enough to squeeze out, especially on Day 6 of an all-you-can-eat vacation. And the thought of having lunch in the same seat we had been sitting in for six days suddenly lost its appeal. Clyde drove us across the street to the DQ Grill & Chill. We enjoyed the Grill, but skipped the Chill, as supper would be - what else? A buffet!

Our day ended with a wildlife sighting, as coming back to the Comfort Inn in Billings, MT, we saw a prairie dog running through the parking lot. Those things are cute enough to take home. But we didn't.