{Optimism}
Our Lady of the Rockies, a 90-foot tall statue sitting at 8,510 feet above sea level atop the Continental Divide and dedicated to women everywhere. She watches over Butte, Montana and at night she is lit up like a shining angel floating above the city, it’s enough to take your breath away after a long day of driving. Our Lady of the Rockies is the last landmark before winding up the canyon to J-Mo’s home. (Click to enlarge.)
This is one time where I really wish I had a better zoom, and that the twisting canyon had a better angled pull-0ut to safely take photos.
Related Post: Butte, America
Next week’s assignment for Friday, May 25: Trash
52 Pics Photo Challenge:
I have started my own weekly photography assignment with photo-posts every Friday. For previous posts click here, or you can download the challenge here. If you are participating, upload your photos to our Flickr group, and/or leave a link in the comments!
Filed under: National Parks, Photography, There and Back Again, Utah: Life Elevated
Over the weekend J-Mo and I headed South to sunnier weather and a whole lot of nature. I have been to the Moab area several times in the last few years, spending time in Arches National Park and several evenings at Dead Horse Point. I’m not sure why Canyonlands National Park never was on my radar, but I after visiting these last few days I am shocked and appalled that I had not made it a priority sooner. After setting up camp and making some delicious tin foil dinners, we headed into the park for some sunset viewing.
It’s basically like a smaller, less crowded, closer-to-me version of the Grand Canyon. Dozens of finger-canyons are carved out of the plateau and there are layers upon layers of sheer cliffs, buttes, and strange, majestic rock formations.
I was slack-jawed at these views. I mean, I knew Utah had some gorgeous red rock, but I had no idea we had this.
Under optimal weather conditions, Canyonlands has some of the clearest air in the mountain west, however when the wind blows pollution from Las Vegas, Phoenix, Denver and Salt Lake into the canyons it hangs over the cliffs in a dusty haze until a strong enough wind blows it back out.
The next morning we took a slight detour down a very steep and somewhat treacherous Mineral Road/Horsethief Trail. This road winds down the steep canyon walls to the Green River below. There were a lot of mountain bikers, several trucks and SUV’s, and we managed to catch the tail end of someone base jumping–with parachute–off the bluff.
J-Mo and I meandered along the river for a while, stopping to take pictures (me) and try and gauge where, exactly, we were heading (him).
Just around this curve is an unofficial entrance to Canyonlands. The thing is, it is a 100+ mile look on rough road to get to a place where you can crawl back up to the plateau. We opted to backtrack and were soon enough back on the rim of the canyon and heading towards the entrance station.
This is across the street from the Island in the Sky Visitor Center. The views are just incredible, I seriously cannot believe no one sat me down years ago and regaled me of awesome stories of Canyonlands. So, I am telling you now. GO THERE! Yes, Arches is awesome, Moab is fab, Dead Horse Point is a must-see…and Canyonlands, at a whopping 4 miles down the road from Dead Horse, should absolutely be on your list of destinations in red rock country.
Mesa Arch is one of the few arch formations in the park, it’s a quick little walk from the road and has an incredible view through it’s opening.
Gorgeous. Amazing. Breathtaking. Please, go to Canyonlands if you have the chance. You won’t regret it.
After a day of wandering around, driving around, hiking around, and generally staying in the north end of the park, we decided to head to our next camp spot in Moab. As we were leaving the park, I asked J-Mo if we could go check out Gooseneck Overlook. Looking at the map, it seemed to be somewhat opposite the view seen from Dead Horse Point. I warned him that we would need to traverse an unpaved 4-wheel-drive road. He laughed and rolled his eyes, he eats unpaved 4-wheel-drive roads for breakfast. I was perfectly trusting in his driving skillz…until we came across this:
That, my friends, is Shafer Trail Road, well, at least the top half of it. The trail-road is only about a car and a half wide with a sheer cliff stretching upwards on one side, and a sheer drop-off on the other. There is no passing, there was oncoming traffic (not much, but still), it is careful, careful business with a lot of hairpin turns, sketchy edges, and white knuckles for me for almost an hour. The road, let me show you it:
This is basically the Going-to-the-Sun road…but with red rocks instead of granite peaks and pine trees…and it’s not paved…or maintained…and only the very ballsy drivers and badass mountain bikers attempt it. You zig and zag down that very steep, sheer slab of red rock for 1,700 vertical feet. And then you still have another couple of miles before you get to Gooseneck Bend Overlook. If you can survive the zig-zags without passing out, you are in luck, because the view is absolutely worth it.
After taking another dozen (okay, hundred) photos, you need to decide if you are going to continue on the rough, rutted road to Moab, or if you are going to climb back up the plateau to the paved road back to Moab. It depends on how your nerves are doing, I guess, and how much adventure you seek.
(Yes, the Visitors Center is right up on top of that cliff. Go on, I double-dog dare you to crawl back up those switchbacks.)
For more pictures, see my Flickr set here.
While J-Mo and I were in eastern Montana and North Dakota last week we did a lot of driving around his old haunts, we stopped to look at familiar places and places that have been rendered unfamiliar to him. Some places are exactly the same as they were while he was growing up, and so many things are so different that have become almost unrecognizable. We bumped along rutted dirt roads, navigated newly built gravel roads (okay, he did; I was a very good passenger though!), and criss-crossed railroad tracks, tiny towns, and the Montana-North Dakota border dozens of times. There are plenty of things to see in this pocket of the country, but not in the Museum! Store! Park! Scenic View! kind of way. There are a few Lewis & Clark memorials and museums, the largest was in Alexander, North Dakota and was closed Sunday, the day we drove through town. Even so, I asked J-Mo to pull over dozens of times–he is such a good sport about this little hobby of mine–and I came home with hundreds of photos on my memory card.
A small creek/irrigation ditch surrounding one of the sugar beet storage yards. Sugar beets are a cash crop here and harvest time is a BIG deal for anyone in the area.
J-Mo’s family’s first home was here, it is now a train depot for tankers carrying oil away from North Dakota to be refined.
A train storage yard of sorts outside of Williston, ND. There were thousands of black tanker cars like this one lined up in cirlces upon circles of track. The oil boom here is ridiculous.
Rusty farm equipment…at least I think this is farm equipment. May be oil equipment? No idea.
Near Sundheim Park on the Yellowstone River. I’m not sure what kind of plant this, but it’s interesting!
Fairview Bridge, North Dakota. This spans the Yellowstone River and J-Mo and I walked the length of it and back. I only took about 75 pictures, I get all geeky about stuff like this.
The Fairview Bridge again. So cool! Right!?
This photo almost looks fake to me. The Yellowstone here is still frozen over, you can see the truss of the bridge on the left, and the tiny, little white buildings on the right hand side is the family farm where I got to pet my very first baby calf.
So pretty! I can’t imagine what it’s like when it’s green!
Sundheim Park. Those berries aren’t quite as in-focus as I would have liked, but I think this shot is awesome.
Another spot along the Yellowstone. For me, out West, rivers are fast and rushing, tumbling through narrow canyons from mountain tops, churning and fast and dangerous. Rivers here wide and flat and, relatively speaking, slow moving. There are dangerous eddies and sandbars and undercurrents, for sure, but there are no class 4 rapids. It is interesting to me how this river and the rivers I am familiar with are still both called “river.” I’m sure there is a metaphor in there somewhere, I’ll let you come to what you will on that.
Want to see more? check out the full Flickr set.
Warning: This is a very ranty post with lots of details—all the details are from notes I took during the following fiasco, and anything else J-Mo or I can remember—and is meant to both shame United Airlines into some kind of action, and also serve as a warning to any other globe trotters to never, EVER fly with United Airlines again. Ever.
Last week J-Mo and I made a last-minute trip to eastern Montana to attend a funeral. After looking at our options, we decided to drive up with J-Mo’s Mom, who happened to be in Salt Lake at the time, and fly back. I checked around online to find some flights out of one of a handful of very small airports in the area and found a good rate on both United and Frontier, $279.79 per ticket. Believe me, this is a rock-bottom deal, especially so close to the travel dates. (I looked into bereavement fares, but the relationship did not qualify for the lower rate.) Neither United or Frontier would allow me to book the flight online, so I got on the phone. After Frontier told me their new price, $479 per ticket, I decided to try United to see if their price was still the $279.79 or lower than Frontier’s new price. After attempting to book online one more time and receiving the same weird error message, blocking me from completing my purchase (I had already chosen my flights, entered J-Mo and my travel information, and our credit card number), I decided to call the United customer service number given on the error screen.
I was on hold for 20 minutes which the computer-voiced recording had warned me of within 30 seconds of calling. Annoying, but no big deal, I put my phone on speaker and ate lunch at my desk. AMB1MB (that is how he spelled his name, I swear) finally answered my phone call; I explained that the website was not working and that I’d like to buy two one-way tickets from Dickinson, North Dakota to Salt Lake City via Denver. I gave him the flight numbers, times, and told him the rate I’d seen online. He put me on hold to check the rate. After 10 minutes he told me that in their “real time” system which is the most up to date information they have the rate was still $279.79 per ticket, but he needed to also check the website. (Wha?) He put me on hold again. Fifteen minutes later he returned saying the rate was also $279.79 per ticket on the website as well as his “real time” system, and that he could go ahead and book the ticket. AMB1MB confirmed, again, our flight date, time, airport and connection with the $279.79 rate. He asked me for my last name to get the reservation going. I told him the last name of the first traveler was Mo—– and this is where everything turned to hell. See, apparently he could not book two tickets for the $279.79 rate; there was only one ticket available. Even though I had told him two or three times I was trying to book a ticket for myself and my husband, he had neglected to check the rate for two tickets. He put me on hold again. Ages later he returned and said he could book two tickets, but the rate had gone up to $1,100 dollars each. No, that is not a typo. Eleven. Hundred. Dollars…Each. In the 45 minutes I had been on hold the rate for a one-way ticket had increased over $800 dollars. PER TICKET! I was polite, frustrated, but firm. I told him that as I had initially told him I needed TWO tickets, and he had confirmed with me THREE TIMES the price of $279.79 I would absolutely not be paying $1,100 dollars per ticket. He would give me the original quoted price for both tickets. He put me on hold again. Finally, AMB1MB returned and told me he could get me two tickets for $343.30 per ticket. Mind you, this is still over $60 dollars more than the price he had initially quoted and confirmed with his two systems, a price several friends with whom I was furiously gchatting had seen on United.com in their own internet browsers. At this point I had been on the phone, mostly on hold, for more than an hour. I was frustrated, angry, and my lunch break was long over. I agreed to the higher price just to ensure we were on the flight, I had been checking the websites of Frontier and Delta in the meantime and neither had any seats available on flights out of eastern Montana or western North Dakota. It took AMB1MB another 10 minutes to take down all the information to get J-Mo and I booked on two, one-way flights home. AMB1MB gave me a confirmation number and mentioned I would receive an email within 24 hours with my receipt and itinerary. I requested to speak to his superior because of the price difference, I assumed when I explained what had happened the superior would be able to fix the problem.
Ha!
When I gave Jason Sherma, Supervisor of the United Web Support Team, my confirmation number from AMB1MB he correctly repeated back to me the flight numbers, cities, departures and arrival times, and then asked what he could do to help me. I informed him of the $279.79 price that AMB1MB had quoted me several times, explained his mistake on my needing two tickets and not one, and then told him the business about the $1,100 per ticket price and the $343.30 final price. Mr. Sherma told me that there was no evidence in his system of AMB1MB ever quoting any price less than $343.30. I was temporarily speechless and then immediately angry, but tried to remain calm. I repeated myself, unsure if there was a language barrier issue. Mr. Sherma again told me there was never a $279.79 price quoted to me and that United was doing me a huge favor with the $343.30 per ticket price instead of the $1,100 per ticket price. I told him that his information was incorrect and told him to pull the recording of the call where the $279.79 price point was discussed at length and AMB1MB’s mistake of not checking for two tickets in the first place. Mr. Sherma got very huffy and told me that they absolutely do not record calls at their call center. I call bullshit. I’ve worked at several call centers and every one of them has recorded calls for training and quality control. At this point I had been on the phone for 90 minutes and was frustrated beyond reason. I opted to end the call instead of continue to fight. We had return tickets home, and in the long run the extra $120-something dollars would not be that big of a deal.
The next day J-Mo, Momma-Mo and I left on a very long drive from Salt Lake City, 14 hours north-east through a blizzard and then a lot of very flat, very brown, very monotonous country. I had not yet received an email confirmation from United for our plane tickets, but as I was in and out of cell phone service I assumed it was waiting in my inbox.
Ha!
That afternoon as we were somewhere east of Bozeman, Montana, J-Mo decided to check the United website with our confirmation number to see if the receipt and itinerary was there. He typed it in, and viola, like magic our flights appeared: Dickinson, ND to Denver, an easy hour and a half layover in Denver around lunchtime, and then Denver to Salt Lake. I figured we could check in and print our boarding passes as we got closer to our travel times.
Ha!
On Saturday night, J-Mo and I tried to check in for our flights. In the hubbub of the funeral and other events I had not even noticed I hadn’t received an email confirmation yet, and our bank account had not been charged. I was suddenly very worried. J-Mo typed in our same confirmation number to the United website and, lo and behold, our flights came up…well, some of them. The screen only indicated two, one-way tickets from Denver to Salt Lake, but had nothing about a flight from North Dakota to Denver. I said a few swear words. J-Mo dialed the United customer service number and was informed of a 20+ minute wait time…and the whole debacle began again.
While he was on hold I was frantically checking flights again from all the nearby airports, there were 2 rather expensive seats available on a Delta flight from Minot, North Dakota, which was a few hours away. I should have bought them right then and told J-Mo to hang up. But, United had our credit card information, who knows what they would do with it! Finally Carol—employee number GS44—came on the line. J-Mo explained the problem, and after about 10 minutes she finally realized that we were missing a flight in our itinerary and were not simply calling to confirm the Denver-Salt Lake City leg of the flight. She put us on hold. She came back for a minute, asked a question or two, and put us on hold again. More of the same. Finally Carol said she was having trouble booking the North Dakota-Denver leg because United does not actually operate that flight, but contracts it out to Great Lakes Airlines. Finally, after an hour and fifteen minutes and a bit of haggling over the price (she seemed to think that it was perfectly okay to charge us something considerably higher than the $343.30 I had already agreed to with AMB1MB) Carol confirmed that we each had two flights, one from North Dakota to Denver, one from Denver to Salt Lake, the next day, and reconfirmed our original confirmation number and a rate of $343.30 per ticket (which I must add, is still not the original price of $279.79 that I feel United should have honored in the FIRST PLACE). J-Mo asked if she could also check us in for the flights, and she promptly told us no because they were not ticketed yet….
This is where I got really upset. I asked her what she had been doing for the last 85 minutes if not ticketing the flight, she just assured me we would have tickets. I reminded her that 4 days earlier AMB1MB had said the same thing, and I had no reason to assume she was not also feeding me false information. J-Mo and I were a three-hour drive from the airport and I wanted to be damn sure we had a place on the plane before I hung up and we drove out there the next morning. I was placed on hold again. During that wait the United website had allowed us to check in for our Denver-Salt Lake leg, and our bank account had been charged for the full price of the two tickets. A little internet sleuth work revealed that Great Lakes Airlines does not have online check-in–they are a very small regional airline–so it made sense that United could not check us in for that leg of the flight. I felt a little better, but just a little. Carol mentioned that in addition to the price of our tickets we would be charged two $25.00 fees for calling customer service. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. I wanted to know why we were being charged if the only reason I called in the FIRST PLACE was because their website would not allow me to book tickets online; and the reason I was calling in the SECOND PLACE was because the first United agent I talked to had failed to book the airline tickets he confirmed he had. I wanted to know why I was required to pay a surcharge for their webmaster’s problems and their incompetent agents. And I wanted to know why Carol suddenly had the authority to charge me for a phone call answered by AMB1MB four days earlier, which she indicated was the reason for one of the $25.00 fees. AMB1MB did not mention anything about a customer service fee. I’m afraid I was not entirely polite or calm, but after a cumulative 3 hours on hold to book two one-way tickets, and at a higher price than I should have paid, and still without a receipt or email confirmation, I had absolutely no patience left. Carol promised to remove the charges under the code of “website error.” I requested to speak to Carol’s supervisor, she pushed back on that option, but I insisted. I was put on hold. Again. After 10 minutes Carol came back on the line saying “she must still be busy…” I again asked for confirmation from Carol of both legs of our flight, the price, and another reassurance that there would be no additional fees charged.
J-Mo and I were tired, I was super cranky, and we had a long day ahead of us. We decided this would be good enough and hung up. We set our alarm clocks so we could drive three hours to the airport and still arrive 2 hours before our scheduled flight out of Dickinson, North Dakota in the off-chance that we actually did not have a place on that plane we would be able to drive all the way home. In sum, this means that rather than try to call United again the next day to sort out flights we had already agreed to endure a 14-hour drive back home.
[Insert future blog post about the disaster that consisted of flying from Dickinson, ND to Salt Lake City and how it took more than 14 hours anyway.]
Yesterday J-Mo informed me that in addition to the charge for our flights, we had two $25.00 charges from United Airlines come through our bank account.
I lost my shit. And then I started to write. Multiple tweets and Facebook rants have yet to be answered by United Airlines. I have submitted a formal complaint with the details of this post to United Customer Care. I do not have the patience to call them only to be on hold for ANOTHER 90+ minutes and then told there is no supervisor with whom I can speak or that there is nothing the agent can do, or even worse, that there is no record of any of this mess in their system. I cannot handle another AMB1MB or Carol/GS44 assuring me they will fix the problem, and then don’t/won’t, and then charge me ANOTHER $25 dollars because I called them to notify them of their error and their unauthorized charges to my bank account. I will eat the $50 dollars in customer service charges, I will eat the $127.02 in increased rate charges, but I will not be quiet about it. No, Siree. I have never asked to have my site or a particular post promoted, but in this case I hope you share this post (alas! I miss you, Google Reader and your share capabilities!). I hope you tweet about it, United’s handle is @UNITED. I hope you put this post’s link on your Facebook page, or leave it on THEIR Facebook page. I hope you email your friends and let them know that United Airlines is not the type of company one should trust with credit card information or travel plans. If you are brave I hope you send a link to this post to customerrelations@united.com with your own 2 cents. Tell everyone you know they should not use United Airlines, direct them to this post if they ask why.
If you happen to work for United Airlines and are interested in airing your side of the story or, heaven forbid, making amends, you can contact me directly at heidikinsblog ATT gmail DOTT com. I can’t promise I will be understanding or even sympathetic to your point of view, and I certainly will not retract this post, but I will listen to what you have to say.
Last week J-Mo and I went to his hometown which is on the border of eastern Montana and North Dakota, and I mean right on the border. While we were there, J-Mo showed me the house where he grew up, the schools he went to, the back roads he took around the countryside, and I heard dozens of stories about he and his buddies having fun, being crazy, and staying out of and getting into trouble. I also got my country on: country tunes (don’t judge, J-Mo loves them so I love them), country roads, and country past times.
My sister-in-law just bought herself a horse, and she volunteered to take me out for a ride. You guys, I was ecstatic, although I tried to play it cool and find something in my city-girl carry-on wardrobe that went with pony. I only marginally succeeded, but I don’t think the horse minded too much. When I was a kid my across the street neighbors had horses and I’d help brush and groom them on Saturday mornings in exchange for weekly horseback rides. I love horses, always have, although I haven’t been on one in over a decade. I was excited, but also a little nervous.
Meet Brenda, a sweet and sassy chestnut-y mare who loves to have that white stripe between her eyes rubbed.
Mel and I, these few hours at the corral were the happiest I spent this weekend, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. When I wasn’t on that mare I was curled up in a hammock with a book, a shaggy Golden Retriever and a gray, spotted Great Dane. You guys, it was the perfect morning.
Yep, more happy. I’m afraid 20 minutes on a horse has ruined me. Sorry J-Mo, but a pony is on my list of things that I want need. You know, some day. (wink)
J-Mo’s great-uncle still runs a cattle ranch and farm in North Dakota, it is calving season. We drove across the river so I could continue my country life immersion.
As soon as J-Mo and I got out of the pick-up we were shuffled into a baby range rover and Uncle Ronnie took us on a tour. I swear J-Mo’s uncle was driving crazier than usual just to hear me sqeal, I was unaware that little Mars Rover machine could do so much off-roading, sharp turns, and general “reckless” driving. We were heading out to the pasture to see if any new calves had been born in the last few hours. Ronnie said he’d already had seven born that day, and would probably have several more before he went to bed.
This little girl was only a few minutes old when we drove up, she was still all slick and half-covered in a slime sac. Ronnie clipped a tag on the calf’s ear with the same number as her mother to keep all the little black and white babies straight. The cows are still branded but not until they are a little older. I actually got to see this little girl take her first, very wobbly steps. Oh my goodness, she was so cute!
This is another brand new calf taking his first steps. They start walking within 10 minutes or so of being born. Can you imagine giving birth to a toddler? A toddler who nurses as much as a newborn? Yeeeep, it makes the mind reel…and it makes my girly parts hurt a little. Yowch.
I was surprised at how beautiful the country side was in eastern Montana and North Dakota. Even now before there is any new green grass or crops or anything. The rolling hills are covered in long grasses that glowed golden brown in the afternoon light. Farms are spread out with farm houses and barns surrounded by thick tree rows of cottonwoods and evergreens to block the wind and snow. Pick up trucks are parked in rows at the high school, and at the church, and the grocery store, and the gas station. Tractors are lined up in small, medium, large, and absolutely enormous sizes. This area has changed a lot in the last two years, an oil boom has brought in thousands of workers in the oil fields and hundreds of thousands of big trucks hauling water, housing and equipment to supply the oil wells dotting the horizon. I’ve got more stories coming up this, stay tuned!
Check out the full Flickr set.
There is something about road trips, something deliciously free and leisurely. J-Mo and I drove down to Phoenix this year for the booksale (which was awesome, in case you missed it). Now, the road from Salt Lake to Phoenix is either 650 miles of desert with a brief, glitzy moment in Las Vegas, or 650 miles of desert with a brief, glitzy moment in Kanab…oh wait, there is no glitz in Kanab. (Although, there have been more Westerns filmed in and around Kanab than in any other location except for Hollywood, earning this small, dusty town the nickname of “Little Hollywood.”) But, about 75 miles south-eastish of Kanab are the Vermillion Cliffs which explode on the horizon after a winding climb through rather high, snow-covered mountains. You come around a curve and BAM! Vermillion Cliffs.
These cliffs are stunning, they are tall and sheer with thick layers of sediment in different colors. Highway 89 threads along those cliffs for several miles before crossing the canyon and heading farther south to Flagstaff.
But first, you get to experience what I discovered as I scrolled through the photos I snapped from the mountains.
Me? I am a very pale girl. Whatever, when I’m 40 I’m hoping this paleness thing will pay off.
A few miles south of the Vermillion Cliffs is the Navajo Bridge. I have been to the bridge before, but going with an engineer nerd like J-Mo was awesomely fantastic. See, J-Mo knows about trusses and beams and…the rest of the stuff that is required to make this giant hunk of steel balance between two cliffs and seem like it is growing out of the sheer rock face. I love listening to him talk about it, and watching him geek out about it.
Isn’t that just amazing? (You remember that I am a geek about things like bridges and buildings and dams and things, right? Yeah, I geek out about this stuff. J-Mo and I are a good match.)
There are actually two bridges, one for cars and one for pedestrians. And believe me, if you happen upon this bridge you will want to get out and stretch your legs. The structure is incredible and the views are fantastic.
I love the colors of the West, the reds and the blues jutting up against each other. I love the texture of the rocks next to the clear glass of the river, or the sky. To many people this kind of scenery seems desolate or, I don’t know, death-inducing. But to me, it’s home.
Again, I’m a very pale girl. I wish I could blame this on February, or the bright blue sky, or the stunning red rocks…but no, I’m this pale in July too.
Right after Thanksgiving J-Mo and I went to Bryce Canyon National Park in Southern Utah, and I don’t think I really mentioned it here, let alone wrote about it properly. And by “write” I mean “share some of the most gorgeous pictures I’ve ever taken.” J-Mo and I were only in Bryce for two days, and one of those days I had absolutely debilitating cramps, which meant me curling up in the fetal position at the lovely Stone Canyon Inn (highly recommended!) and taking a lengthy nap. Even with that damper, J-Mo and I managed to see a lot of the canyon, driving the entire length and wandering around on a few short hikes. If you go, I highly recommend the following: stay at Stone Canyon in Tropic, UT, you won’t be disappointed and Dixie, the owner, will make you a fantastic breakfast and give you her best tips on hiking. Don’t shy away from Clarke’s restaurant, also in Tropic. Yes, it is crowded between a grocery store and a motel/hotel of the same name, but the prices are low and the food is surprisingly good. Do NOT eat at Ruby’s Inn, the biggest hotel in Bryce Canyon. Their buffet is basically a pared-down version of Sizzler, and perhaps even less tasty (if Sizzler could ever be defined as “tasty”). Don’t do it. You’re welcome.
I only took about 500 pictures, I’ve picked my favorites to post here.
Scenic Byway 12, my first view of the gorgeous red rock near Bryce and a teensy little taste of what was in store for me the next two days.
Scenic Byway 12 goes through several man-made arches, carved right out of the sandstone. J-Mo took a dozen photos of me here, mostly because I was absolutely freezing–despite the sunny skies–and making all sorts of really awesome faces.
The entrance of Bryce Canyon, goodness, I adore that handsome boy there on the right. (I promise I’ll stop gushing about him–at least for a moment–and gush about the gorgeous scenery instead.)
Our first stop was Sunset Point, one of the more famous lookouts in the park. We arrived at about 4:30 and the sun was dropping in the west, illuminating the hoodoo’s and flooding the canyon in the most gorgeous light. I haven’t edited any of these photos except for a crop here and there, Bryce Canyon is one of those places where photos absolutely cannot do the place justice.
Sunset Point, after hiking west from the parking lot to the canyon rim.
The sun was so low that it actually shone through the red rock, making it look like it was on fire. I took a hundred photos (ok, maybe twenty) trying to capture the effect, I doubt I did, but hey, I tried. For you. Because I’m a good blogger like that. (This is the part where you ignore/forget that I am almost two months late in posting said photos.)
Sigh. I want to go back already. Although, perhaps when it’s not quite so cold, the wind at the canyon rim is absolutely murder.
The rock formations in Bryce Canyon are called hoodoos (or fairy chimneys, which I think is a much better name). They only appear in a few places in the world, and nowhere else in North America. They are the weathered remnants of large finns of sandstone, and in Bryce they are these towering formations with hundreds of alleys and trails weaving in and out of them. Many of the trails were closed for the winter, and many of the trails are never open because it is easy to get lost in such a place where everything looks the same and you cannot see any way out.
Awwwww.
Before the sun was completely gone, J-Mo and I wanted to see Inspiration Point, so off we went, deeper into the canyon.
Inspiration point was absolutely breathtaking. The wind was bitter cold at this point, but J-Mo and I hiked around a little anyway.
There I am, probably the happiest I’ve ever been in my whole life, smiling at my sweetheart. (I know! I said I wouldn’t gush about him anymore! I lied, okay!?)
Getting fancy with the waning light, the more I look at this pic the more I love it.
This pic has already been posted here, but it’s one of my favorites of us and definitely the best from the weekend.
The following questions and answers are part of my “Interview A Blogger”/”Please ask me questions to provide blog fodder” mini-series. I’ve tried to break up the questions into bigger categories and will answer them over the next couple of posts.
Topic: Travel
Question: You’ve traveled a lot, so what is your favorite trip you’ve taken and why? If you could go anywhere you haven’t been yet, where would you pick and why? From Tia.
Answer: My favorite trip I’ve ever taken was actually this last summer when I spent a week in Montana with J-Mo’s family. It was slow-paced, relaxing, and full of sunshiney days that weren’t too hot, a lot of gorgeous, GORGEOUS scenery, awesome people, and hardly any connection with the outside/cyber world. It was bliss. Following it up with a few days on my own in Yellowstone gawking at even MORE amazing scenery was an awesome way to end a wonderful vacation.
Runner up favorite trip would be a lovely 10 day vacation spent in Hawaii approximately 2 weeks after I got divorced. I woke up early, cried a lot, read a pile of books, listened to the waves crashing against the seawall, sat on the beach by myself (with SPF 85 sunscreen and still under an umbrella), dug my toes in the sand, watched the turtles and whales and let myself unwind from a year or two of hell. I remember very distinctly the moment, sitting on a skinny little beach staring at the horizon, when I knew it would all be okay, that I would be okay. There’s no feeling quite like that.
If I could go anywhere? Oh goodness, there are so many options! If time and money weren’t really an issue I’d be perfectly happy bouncing from country to country for a solid year. But, as my boss has already told me he won’t grant me a year sabbatical to do such a thing, let’s say I have a week and a modest budget, where would I go? Or, what are the top three places I’d go. I’d love to go to Iceland, or Turkey and Greece, or Belize. If I am keeping this answer grounded in reality those are probably my top 3 destinations right now (and have been on my top 5 list for ages).
Question: If you could live in another country (not visit, LIVE) for a few years, which one would it be, and of course why? From: One of only 2 or 3 male readers, Sov.
Answer: Oh goodness, I LOVE this question! I have always wanted to live in China. I actually took several years of Mandarin at the University and a half-dozen Chinese culture classes. I love the language, love the culture, love everything about it. Granted, my taller-than-average and platinum blonde self will stick out like, well, a tall blonde, but I am in-love with the idea of moving there. That being said, there are probably two dozen more countries that are on my list of places I would like to live for a few years. Living in another country is something I will do, just not positive of when.
Question: If you move to another country can I have your apartment? From my sister, Erika.
Answer: Yes, you can babysit apartment-sit while I’m abroad, but if I end up moving back to Salt Lake you’ll have to vacate to somewhere else because I LOVE this apartment. Sorry, them’s the breaks. Deal or no deal?
Question: Do you have any travel goals? How far along are you on them?
Answer: Yes, actually, I do! I would like to visit all 50 states before I turn 31 (i.e. the end of my 30th year), and I’d like to visit every continent before I turn 41. So far I have been to 36 of 50 states (14 left! Woot!) and…one continent. But I’ve visited both Canada and Mexico! I’ve got North America COVERED!
Question: How do you get such good deals on airline tickets? From Sarakastic.
Answer: I am always looking for airline tickets, which helps to find the deals. I get email alerts from Delta and Southwest and every so often from Kayak for certain destinations. That all sounds lovely, but that’s not really my secret. I will buy tickets when I see a good price, but I rarely wait for the Lowest Price Ever! I have a set amount that I set aside for travel from each paycheck, and if I get a hankering to go somewhere, or if I see a decent price (again, not necessarily rock bottom price, just affordable for that destination) I buy a ticket. I drive a clunky, paid-off car to be able to travel. I have made sacrifices to pay off my student loan so I have more funds to travel. It’s not nearly as glamorous as being able to give you the name of a travel agent who can always score you $79 flights into JFK or something, but it’s what I do and it’s been working out quite nicely for the last few years.
Question: Can you really pack an entire week’s worth of clothes and shoes and everything into a carry on?
Answer: Yes I can and do quite regularly. The key to this is rolling your clothes in outfits, making sure those outfits are interchangeable and any big pieces (jeans, jackets, shoes) are worn several times. I know many people wear ballet flats or slim shoes on the plane because they are easy to take off during security screenings. Here”s the thing, I’d rather take 2 extra minutes to put my heels back on (or boots, or whatever) and 5 extra minutes not to run through the airport and have that precious space in my carry on for something like scarves or my hair dryer or an extra sweater in case I change my mind one morning. I think my personal packing coup was for a trip to New York City I managed to fit an entire week’s worth of casual “about town” clothes and 6 dressier ensembles and their accompanying heels (for Broadway performances) into a carry on and purse. Yes, that’s right folks. I squeezed 13 outfits into a carry on. I rule!
I loathe checking luggage, and this was before airlines got away with charging two arms and a big toe to bounce your suitcase around, scruff it up and probably lose it in transit. I am always paranoid that I will arrive without my toothbrush and a fresh pair of underwears and something to wear the next day. I started packing an overnight carry-on, but then I lost my bag several times in a row and decided to just pack carry on for the rest of forever. I’ve got my toiletries down to a science and have always managed to squeeze everything I need into the space allotted (and anything that doesn’t fit goes into a giant purse.) With only one or two exceptions (i.e. suitcases packed to the limit with books), I have always travel with only a carry on.
Question: Any tips for traveling?
Answer: Always eat before you go to the airport. Take an empty water bottle and fill it up for your flight. Always, ALWAYS take a big snuggly scarf or pashmina as airplane A/C is merciless and you never know where those pillows and blankets have been. (Eww!) Wear comfortable clothe, but–unless you have a 14 hour flight–that does not mean “wear pajamas” or “wear leggings as pants.” You can wear real pants, and something not resembling an aerobics outfit circa 1997. Always bring a cardigan or jacket on the plane, and if you can throw in a few snacks as well you will be much happier. (Think apples, cheese and a baguette, or jerky, or trail mix, or whatever else tickles your fancy and won’t make you feel all gross and disgusting.) Pack a book or two. I am a forever fan of paper-and-ink books because I never have to turn them off or worry about the battery dying or freak out if they are stolen or misplaced, but that’s just me.
In early October a pretty wicked cold front hit Utah and as I drove south to Cedar City for the Shakespeare Competition on what would have been a nice, easy drive through gorgeous canyons with changing leaves turned into a white-knuckle blizzard with crawling freeway speeds and white-out conditions.
Because I am a ridiculously dedicated* blogger, I carefully–and safely–documented it for you. (*Ha! Riiiiight, sure I am. Pay no attention to the weeks and weeks of paltry posting.) Don’t worry, this wasn’t the scariest part of the drive, not even close. Imagine this plus two more inches of snow and about 100 feet less visibility…that’s when the white knuckles came out. Timestamp: October 6, 2011, approximately 6:00 pm.
<<Insert weekend of bossing around teenagers in iambic pentameter.>>
After the competition was over, I had planned on staying an extra day in Southern Utah to do a little exploring, and with only a little bit of cajoling, J-Mo met me down there. Immediately following the awards ceremony on Saturday evening, all I wanted to do was find a hotel that was not inhabited by buses full of teenagers and sleep for a week a responsibly healthy, 9-hour, uninterrupted night. Some people say they can’t sleep in hotel beds, I usually sleep just as well, if not better than when I am at home. This weekend was no exception. Besides, there’s nothing like a weekend full of parking lot rehearsals until 1:00 am with a bunch of teenagers in SEVENTEEN DEGREE weather to make you sleep for 13 hours straight. (Cold snap, I shake my fist at you! *Shake, shake*) The next morning after brunch at a fabulous local diner, Dede’s, J-Mo went off to explore some of the gorgeous vistas in the surrounding mountains.
Tiny little problem: the road to Cedar Breaks was closed because of a massive avalanche/landslide due to the storm. I was a little bummed, I’ve always wanted to see that particular view. Instead J-Mo and I took the first turnoff we found with a very vague sign leading to Kolob Reservoir. The road looked like it climbed up the mountain and probably had some good fall foilage, plus perhaps a pretty lake. So off we went.
Excellent choice, we drove for miles and miles, up and down mountains, through canyons and snow fields and cattle ground and forests of aspens. The leaves were beautiful, the snow was much deeper than I had anticipated, up to 8 inches in some places! And this was two or three days after the storm.
October! This is October. Gorgeous with the green and yellow leaves, the snow…it was beautiful. After a lengthy drive on wrecked dirt roads we finally made it to our destination.
Kolob Reservoir (yes, we hie’d), it was full of fishermen and surrounded by campers. The lake was much larger than I had thought it would be and much less snowy.
After meandering around the lake for a while, J-Mo and I decided that instead of heading back the way we came, we’d see where this road went. There were Honda Civic’s in the parking lot, surely it wasn’t going to be as rough as the last two hours of road. So, he hung a left towards what we hoped would be St. George. After a few miles we passed a dirt road turn-off and when I turned around to read the old, wooden sign detailing where the road led to, all I really caught was “West Rim Trail.”
“West Rim Trail? Isn’t that in Zion?“
Who knows, but it was reason enough to check it out. J-Mo immediately flipped around and off we went, bumping down the dirt road. A few miles later we came across Lava Point Look Out, we stopped and walked the 200 foot trail to the edge of the plateau, and were greeted with this:
You should definitely click on these next few landscape shots to get the full effect. You’re welcome.
That, my friends, is the western edge of Zion National Park and a view I didn’t even know existed. Remember a few months ago when J-Mo and I hiked the crazy-high cliff, Angel’s Landing? Yeah, that precipice is hidden behind the furthest ridge of those white plateaus. This view was spectacular. Actually, spectacular hardly seems to cut it but I seem to be suffering again from the inability to properly describe something that shakes your soul and turns your brain inside out. It’s like the first time you looked at those optical illusion posters that looked like TV fuzz and suddenly, WHAM! Suddenly all you see is a family of hedgehogs having a tea party. Totally didn’t expect that. Kind of don’t have the words to explain it. (Ok, this vista wasn’t exactly a snacking family of miniature rodents, but even so, it was a gorgeous surprise.)
Firstly, on the left side of that photo the canyon that makes up Zion National Park converges into The Narrows. The scope from this look out was incredible, I couldn’t stop staring, wishing my camera could better capture the incredible view.
(Secondly, I swear J-Mo and I are not so cutesy that we purchased and then wore matchy-match hoodies on purpose. They were bought at least 6 months apart, are different brands, from different stores, and I had completely forgotten he had his when I bought mine. Just so we’re clear. The fact that we both wore them the same weekend? Well, that is just how it played out, I suppose.)
After a short while we decided to get back on the road, if we were as far south as Zion National Park we had quite the drive to get back home that evening. We didn’t have a map–and I had sadly left my Zion guidebook at home–so we just got back on the road and hoped for the best. Again, we were not disappointed. The road we took wove in and out of Zion National Park for probably 30 miles. J-Mo was patient with my more and more frequent squeals and picture pit-stops. But, you guys, the views! Like families of tea partying hedgehogs!
This was the first towering red rock cliff we came across, but it definitely was not the last as we wound down the plateau near Kolob Canyon.
I think sometimes I take this kind of gorgeousness for granted, it isn’t until I happen upon it on accident that I can truly recognize the incredible beauty of Utah.
Long before Mormon settlers arrived in this area, Native American tribes held these places sacred. Upon discovering these breathtaking canyons and plateaus, the Mormons named them after the heavens and the place where God resides. Sometimes I forget that minor detail, but this part of the world really is one of the most beautiful places on earth, and I’m lucky enough to have it in my backyard. Note to self: travel south more often. Preferably not in a snowstorm.
See the full Flickr set here.
Ten years ago, if you had told me that I would voluntarily purchase a ticket, board a plane and fly across the country to spend the weekend with a couple of lovely ladies I had met online I would have laughed in your face. Even five years ago I probably would have balked at this concept. But, as Laurel, RA and I sat around talking about books and relationships and life it became very apparent to me that these two women are my kind of people. During my stay, Laurel returned a book she had borrowed from RA, the same book I had finished reading on the plane to Philadelphia. Throughout the weekend we ate some great food, had some wonderful conversations, a lot of laughs and overall a fantastic time. RA has already blogged about it (because, unlike me, she is on top of blogging), and she captured most of the best moments, the funny things that were said, and the great conversations.
On Sunday, Laurel and I drove out to Kennett Square for the much-touted Mushroom Festival. Laurel obliged me with a quick detour through Delaware so I could buy a postcard and check it off my list of states I had visited. After a little winding through the Pennsylvania countryside, Laurel and I arrive in Kennett and the Mushroominess began!
We wandered through the throngs of people, peeked into some standard fair booths and many that were a lot more mushroom-specific. A quick stop at the famous Guapos taco truck for a little Mexican food.
I got some kind of corn soup thing, and it was the right amount of flavor and spice and extra deliciousness.
Laurel and RA both got the taco’s and absolutely raved about them.
Up next was the deep-fried, breaded mushrooms with a ranch-y sauce. These were my favorite from the entire festival (and frankly, rival the deep-fried Oreo’s from the Utah State Fair), they were so hot they burned your tongue and we stood around blowing on them to cool them off.
Inside the mushroom tent there were several crates of mushrooms in various stages of growth. There was a large growing box of white, button mushrooms. Passersby would pick one, they’d trim the end and hand it over, it was the most delicious mushroom I’ve ever tasted. I swear, if all mushrooms tasted like that I’d live on a diet of pure mushroom goodness. A bit more wandering, a bit more tasting, a lot more conversation, and it was time for me to get to the airport.
This weekend was one I won’t shortly forget. I loved seeing RA and Laurel again. I’d met Laurel a few years ago while she was living in New York City, and a month earlier I’d forced RA up the side of a mountain in Salt Lake City. The thing is, these ladies are real friends, the kind I feel lucky to have. Thank heavens for bloggy-land and her wonderful citizens. I cheered for Laurel as she launched a giant project last week, and I cried when I read about RA losing Mimi.
My “invisible friends”, the ones who live mostly inside my computer have become dear to me, they–you–are a huge part of my life, the weight-bearing columns of my support system, and the people who cheer me on. You, dear people, are amazing and I feel lucky to count you as friends.
Now, who else either a) needs a visit or b) would like to come to Salt Lake? We tout the best snow on earth (and it is already piling up at the ski resorts), anyone fancy a ski trip?
