Lakes, Trains and Orange Barrels – June 18, 2009

After being amply supplied with food for the road by my sister-in-law, we left early driving up I-5 towards Sacramento. Our destination for that day was Salt Lake City. In Sacramento, we made a third change in our route, taking US50 out of Sacramento towards South Lake Tahoe. Although costing us a couple of hours in time, it was well worth the scenic drive through the foothills of the Sierra Nevada along a canyon carved by the American River. Breathtaking beauty of the mountains, trees and rivers was highlighted by the view of Lake Tahoe as we crested Echo Summit.

We stopped for lunch and ate sandwiches at a roadside park right on the shore of Lake Tahoe. Once again, we had relatively cool, sunny weather, and watched the parasailers over the lake.

Crossing into Nevada and descending into the desert the foothills are much drier and rockier as Mother Nature drops all the rain on the west side of the Sierra Nevada. Alpine forests were replaced by the stark beauty of northern Nevada as we made miles and no longer made stops to take pictures. Principal among the sights were row after row of orange barrels. It seemed that most of I-80 in northern Nevada was under construction. Construction zone after construction zone dropped our speed from 75mph to 55mph or less. After stopping for dinner in Elko, where Dave’s grandfather had lived and worked for a time in the ‘30’s, we resumed our trip across the desert.

Just as twilight turned to darkness, we crossed into Utah and the salt pan of Great Salt Lake spread before us. Both Dave and I came to a special weary kind of alertness, each scanning the road on his side for deer. I was not put at ease when we saw the heavy barred bumpers which had been added to the front end of the long distance trucks we passed. After spotting only a few jackrabbits, we pulled into the KOA in downtown Salt Lake City around midnight.

Readers, you may have noticed that, when called for, I have been complimentary of the accommodations that we have used during our road trip. When they have not been so good, I simply don’t mention them. The Salt Lake City KOA, however, is an exception. Every transportation device know to man was operating through the night near this campground. Trains, with accompanying whistles, came into the nearby rail yard every twenty minutes from midnight to four AM. Planes landed and took off from the nearby airport. When these two sources were quiescent, traffic noise from trucks on I-80 took over. I even thought I heard a boat whistle, although it was probably a switching engine in the rail yard. The birds chimed in with their wake-up calls at four AM until we finally gave up attempts to sleep and rose at six AM.

Next: Tired Travel to the Tetons

Lakes, Trains and Orange Barrels - June 18, 2009

After being

Wine and Family – June 17, 2009

Richard and I drove up to wine country at mid-morning leaving Dave behind to clean the car, work with my sister-in-law on dinner and then relax. Our first stop on the Silverado Trail on the east side of the Napa valley was the Sinskey Vineyards. They knew Richard here and we were treated to a tasting of fine wines. Since I cannot match the hyperbole of a wine writer's descriptions, suffice it to say that their reds were smooth, full bodied and excellent while the whites were interesting. Sinskey's also has a gourmet kitchen and the cheese, breads, olives and other snacks accompanying the tasting were also a treat. We took a tour of the natural volcanic rock caves where the wine was aged in French oak barrels. They were bottling at the time and the automation was similar to what is used in consumer goods plants in other places in the country. I was interested because it was similar to automation in auto parts plants. However, this machinery wasn't built in the machine shops of Warren, or Flint, MI. It all came from Germany. Why?

Our next stop was the Duckhorn Winery. Unlike most tastings which are served stand-up at the bar, we were seated on a porch overlooking the vines and with the smell of rosemary and thyme wafting in from the gardens outside. It was a beautiful, cool, sunny day in wine country and we anticipated an excellent tasting there. After being seated we waited,...and waited,... and waited, … and waited. I finally turned and gave the waiter my best Adelaide look, caught his attention and he came over and said “I'll will be with you in a moment”. The moment stretched to minutes but what finally ensued was an excellent tasting of twice as many wines as we had paid for. Richard and I enjoyed it immensely and laughed at the over the top hyperbole of both the written descriptions of the wines and the server's comments. Here is an example describing the 2006 Merlot: “...polished flavors of red cherry and raspberry are accented by an enticing layer of graham cracker piecrust.” Really? A wine that tastes like graham cracker pie crust! Fortunately, it did not. The wine, the outdoor ambiance and conversation fostered a connection between us that heretofore, as widely separated brothers, we had never had before. We stopped for lunch at the Frank Family Vineyards. Mr. Frank was a Disney illustrator so the building contained many mementos of his time in Hollywood. Good oakey Chardonnay and the only winery left in the valley with free tastings. When I lived here in the late '60's, we would take visitors on tours up the valley stopping to sample the wines and end up at the north end of the valley mellow and relaxed. The only price was the tour of each winery’s facility to hear about their wine making process and history. Not any more. Tastings are paid for up front and an appointment may be required to sort out the riff-raff.

It was still a gorgeous day as we drove back to Richard’s.

That evening a special treat had been arranged in my honor. We were having a family dinner. Richard’s family would be there, my brother Marc, and my Aunt and my cousin whom I had not seen in decades were also invited. Unfortunately, my Aunt was not able to attend. My sister-in-law served an excellent meal. She had been preparing all day. Roast chicken, roast asparagus and other gastronomic delights. Richard had prepared flank steak on the grill and all twelve of the guests and family enjoyed a wonderful meal. After dinner, I showed my cousin some of the 50 year old pictures that my father had taken including some of her father as a very young man and some of the 100 year old pictures that our grandfather had taken. She related stories to me of her maternal grandparents who lived in Iowa and of the wonderful vacations that their family had taken in Europe and elsewhere. Life in a small Midwestern town in Iowa was not so much different than life in a small Midwestern town in Michigan in the forties and fifties. We share an interest in music, science and literature. Sadly, we had an early day in the morning as we would begin our longest driving day yet. We said goodnight early and set about preparing for our next journey.

Next: Lakes, Trains and Orange Barrels.

Photo Update

A big batch of road trip photos has just arrived. Make sure to check them out in the slide show to the left or go to flickr.com at the following address - http://www.flickr.com/photos/7466375@N02/sets/72157618709537109/ !!!

Pacific Coast Highway – June 16, 2009

It is probably best to let our pictures speak for this part of the trip. From Morro Bay to the Monterrey Peninsula, this is one of the most beautiful drives in the world. We stopped often to photograph the scenery, the wildlife and each other. Lunch was at a Los Padres National Forest Campground right on the ocean south of Big Sur. We took the “Famous” 17 Mile Drive around the Monterrey Peninsula where, like every where else we had been in the country, a lot of homes were for sale. Dave put in a bid for one of them but I doubt his offer will be accepted even in this market. Leaving the PCH in Santa Cruz we headed into the South Bay area, Los Altos, Palo Alto, Mountain View, Sunnyvale, Cupertino and San Jose once again familiar to me and stopped for dinner in the pleasant little east bay town of Pleasonton. Dave treated us to an excellent Italian dinner. We sat outside as we looked a bit out of place among the DotCom should have beens with our non-designer blue jeans, fishing hats and hiking boots. We arrived in early evening to a warm welcome at Richard's home.

Next: Wine and Family

America's #1 Highway – June 15, 2009

Monday morning we left San Diego with fond memories and headed north. Originally intending to make a single day trip up the central valley, we altered our plans and decided to spend two days going up the Pacific Coast Highway, California 1. First we had to navigate the maze of freeways in and around Los Angeles. Passing thru familiar territory in Tustin and Orange County a lapse in navigation got us on southbound California 60 headed back for San Diego. According to Dave, God must have known this and sent one of the most courteous CHP officers to correct my mistake. However, there was a price as the officer issued Dave a citation for following too closely. When asked where we were going he told us we were going the wrong way. He then proceeded to guide us along a confusing series of freeway on and off ramps until once again we were headed in the right direction. This area of Pomona where California 57, 60, 71 and I-10 come together is known as the Bermuda Triangle. According to the officer., they have difficulty responding to the scene of accidents in this area because people don't know where they are located. Unfortunately, he didn't have any difficulty finding my accident.

After leaving the sprawl of Los Angeles we stopped at the home of pea soup, Anderson's Pea Soup restaurant in Solvang. We were instantly transported to the roadside tourist traps of the 1950's. It was more Fred Harvey than Fred Harvey, more Stuckey's than Stuckey's more Frankenmuth than Frankenmuth. Not only that, you can get pea soup with anything. They had pea soup with sandwichs, salads, beef, pork, chicken and fish. They had bowls, cups, saucers, flagons and cauldrons of pea soup. Not only that, everyone in the family that ran Anderson's apparently had the first name of Famous. There was Famous John Anderson, Famous Mildred Anderson, etc. Actually, I love pea soup and since I was driving, we stopped at Famous Anderson's Pea Soup Restaurant. Dave was not happy.

The afternoon was uneventful as we traveled along US101 on our way to the Pacific Coast Highway. The forecast was for rain (remember that) so once again we changed our plans and instead of camping in one of the several state parks near Morro Bay we stayed at the Twin Dolphins motel. Our thanks to the helpful staff at the Twin Dolphins for their kind assistance and the room with a view of the Pacific that they provided us. After stocking up with groceries, we cooked a modest meal in the microwave in our room, did our laundry at the local launderette and slept in beds that did not rock or roll.

Next: Pacific Coast Highway.

Sailboats don't roll – June 14, 2009

I was looking forward to sailing on Jeff's cutter. Unlike most boats, sailboats don't roll. They do pitch but that has never bothered me. I have done a lot of sailing in small boats on the Great Lakes but I had never been on a large sailboat on the ocean. Jeff's boat is about as long as Marc's 36 foot Grand Banks and is a heavy boat but still weighs only half as much as the Grand Banks. As we headed out to sea, I was jubilant with the impending adventure. We cleared the channel and burst into 4 foot rollers that tossed even this heavy boat. I climbed up on the bowsprit and rode the waves.

Another one of the boats from the marina was out and we soon had a race. Jeff's competitive edge showed sharp as a blade as he gave orders to trim the sails for maximum efficiency. Tacking to windward on a northerly route up the coast we soon passed Torry Pines Golf Club with the other boat trailing. Even though the cutter was a much heavier boat, more sail gave us the advantage. Jeff took pity and we dumped wind to allow the other boat to come up. After taking pictures of the other boat and they of us, Jeff brought her back into the wind. I was reminded of the lines from the pirate song by Emmerson, Lake and Palmer: “Closer to the wind my boys, the mad eyed Captain roared. For every man that's alive tonight will be hauling gold aboard”. They soon fell far astern.

Satisfied with our apparent victory and once again feeling a bit queasy, I requested a return to port. Our captain was reluctant as we were making a good nine knots which is excellent for that boat. Nevertheless, he turned and showed off the stability of the boat by jibing downwind. In a small sailboat, making a jibe turn by turning downwind and then coming across the wind is usually a violent maneuver as the main boom crosses quickly from starboard to port. But under Jeff's expert handling we hauled the boom in tight and let the jib and mid-sail pull us across the wind, another advantage of the cutter.

Dave really got an education in relativistic politics (the interplay between brothers) on the trip home. Jeff wanted a tack that would take us directly into the channel but the course was difficult to find with the wind variable and mostly directly up channel. So we tacked back and forth in front of the channel looking for a course that would take us by the point and into the channel. We all discussed the appropriate course while Jeff enjoyed the wind and weather while still making a good seven knots.

Finally, Richard bet Jeff that he couldn't make the channel by 3:00 P.M. With almost intuitive pre-conceptual thinking, Jeff turned the boat downwind directly into the channel just as we were passing the mouth of the channel for a third time.. With a regular sailboat, the downwind position of the sails are “wing on wing” with the jib fully to port and the mainsail fully to port. No wind is lost as the mainsail shovels wind to the jib and maximum speed is attained. It seems slow because you are moving at about the same speed as the wind so there is no breeze. With a cutter, the mid-sail is problematic. If it is on the same side as the mainsail then it is blocked. If it is on the side of the jib, it blocks the jib. That is why Jeff wanted to avoid the downwind tack. With Marc handling trim on the main sail, Richard on the mid sail, me on the jib, and back and forth between all of us, we managed a sloppy but timely entry into the channel five minutes prior to the deadline.

Jeff cooked us another great dinner. We tidied up the boat for the end of the weekend and early in the evening we drove both my brothers to the airport for their flights back to northern California. It would be a short farewell as we would be joining them there shortly.

By coincidence, Dave's friend Tim was in San Diego to participate in a nation wide water competition. Water sports are widespread in San Diego but this competition is not what you would think. These folks are from water departments all over the country and compete in how fast to tap a municipal water connection. It is also a chance to have an industry convention for the tools, supplies and services of the water industry. Held at the San Diego Convention center, at the south end of the gaslight district, the whole place was hopping with conventioneers. We had a drink with Tim at his hotel and then headed back for the marina to pack up.

Next: America's Highway #1

Happy Father's Day

From everyone back home best wishes and we hope you are having a Happy Father's Day!

Fishing the High Seas – June 13, 2009

Once again awakened by our expensive flying alarm clocks, we stirred our coffee and made plans to fish. We backed out of the slip at the crack of 10 o'clock, filled our bait tank with what looked to me to be fair sized fish and headed for open water. Captain Jeff took over tactical control of the helm with Admiral Marc calling the shots on when and where to drop lines.

Neither Dave nor I were fishing. Dave served as official photographer and documentarian of our voyage and I, well, I hate fishing. In fact, I am by far the least seaworthy of the whole crew. It's not like I don't have the experience. After all I did serve in the United States Navy and spent an entire fourteen days aboard ship off the coast of Vietnam, North Korea and the sea of Japan. That however, is an entirely different story. We never fished during my entire naval career. I get seasick. The constant pitch and roll of a fishing boat does not sit well with my inner ear. However, I didn't want to miss this time with my brothers, brother-in-law and nephew. My brothers love to fish. I hung on and did my best to be somewhat useful and at least do no harm. Despite the best efforts of both the crew and wildlife to distract me and the deployment of the staysail, one of the unique aspects of the Grand Banks, to counteract the roll of the boat, I managed to deplete the contents of my stomach at an inopportune time.

On our way out to the kelp beds we rendezvoused with a group of dolphins that were driving up a school of bait fish. Circling round and round they drove the fish tighter and higher so their mates could feed. Not only the dolphins fed but dozens of gulls, terns and pelicans also shared the feast. It was actually the birds that drew our attention to the dolphins. As we drew nearer one of the dolphins came over and rode the bow wave of the Grand Banks. This is a sight that is always thrilling. Unfortunately, we were unable to capture it and share with you.

Since the rising bait fish attract not only the attention of aerial predators but larger fish in the sea as well, the Admiral passed orders to heave to and drop lines. Richard immediately hooked a twenty two inch barracuda but not for long. A sea lion rocketed in and expertly separated fish from hook. He then surfaced with the fish, tossed it into the air and shook it mockingly in our direction as if to say, “See who is king here!” Over the next few hours we fed bait fish to the sea lions, gulls, terns and even a few catch fish. The three fisherman landed five good calico bass. This was after waiting for a half hour with no lines in the water for the sea lions to give up and harass a different boat. With some difficulty, we hauled up the anchor and drove home.

Jeff again cooked up a great dinner from the fruits de mer and we all slept soundly that night.

Next: Sailboats don't roll!

Brothers on Boats – June 11-12, 2009

Since my younger brother wasn't going to get into San Diego until about 4:30 in the afternoon, we spent a leisurely morning in the hotel in Las Vegas. Writing some more of our blog and processing pictures, we left for San Diego at 11:30 in the morning. Not much to say about this trip across the desert. It was pretty much uneventful travelling south on I-15 and I-215. We stopped for gas after entering California which was a big mistake. Gas was a dollar more a gallon in California than it was in Nevada. We had an elegant lunch of pita bread and bologna in the parking lot of a closed bar next to the gas station. Once again Dave drove all the way until he became very tired about 80 miles north of San Diego. We switched drivers on the side of the highway and he immediately fell sound asleep. After sweeping up gorgeous vistas over the coastal mountains we dropped down into Mission Bay and pulled up at the marina. Good timing, my brother Marc had just arrived and escorted us onto his boat. Marc owns a 36 foot Grand Banks. It is a wooden boat that takes a great deal of care with twin Chrysler diesel engines. My nephew, Jeff, has a sailboat which is docked next to my brother's boat. It is a cutter, three sails, also wood, the same make as the sailboat that held a central place in the book “A Perfect Storm”. Jeff cooked us up a perfect storm of roasted chicken, corn and carrots. As the sun set in the Pacific, Dave and I completely shifted gears from America's neon playground to a mellow California mood. Helped along by pleasant conversation, good smokes and better bourbon, we rocked to sleep.

The next morning we were awakened by the world's most expensive alarm clock. Flight operations at San Diego airport, only a few miles from the marina, begin promptly at 6:30 A.M. Directly in the flight path, no one in the marina sleeps past 6:30. My older brother, Richard, flew down from northern California and Marc and I picked him up mid-morning. After laying in appropriate supplies, both liquid and solid, we embarked on a cruise around the bay in the afternoon. With Jeff at the helm, Marc in the Admiral's chair and Richard, Dave and I serving as auxiliary swabbies, we sampled the best of Southern California's sun, sea and sand.

Pulling back into the slip what happened next was surely an anomaly considering our location if not our home town. The seventh and final game of the Stanley cup was being played that evening between the Detroit Red Wings and the Pittsburgh Penquins. Since the game was on the Red Wings home ice in Detroit where they had previously frozen out the Penquins 5-0 in the fifth game, we were confident that the Wings would prevail. There are no televideo devices of any sort on my brother or nephew's boats but two slips down, John, a native of Toronto and an avid hockey and soccer fan, had a brand new 27 inch flat screen TV. John brought his screen up on deck and we gathered on the aft deck of his sailboat and watched the game in the middle of Mission Bay in San Diego. Unlike the sixth game which we watched in Las Vegas, all the cheering was in favor of the Red Wings. Despite the cheers, the weather and the company the Wings fell in a well played game that was in doubt until the final seconds.

We returned to Jeff's boat where I set up my computer to show family pictures to Jeff, Marc and Richard. These were no ordinary family pictures. After my mother passed away, I was cleaning out her condominium and came across several albums of old family pictures. My father was an avid and talented photographer so this did not surprise me. However, when I opened one of the albums, it was filled with hundreds of pictures that were taken by my grandfather. These snapshots were more than a hundred years old. Never having known either my grandfather or grandmother on my father's side of the family, they died before I was born, I was now in possession of many pictures of both my grandfather and grandmother at a young age both before and after they were married as well as their families and friends. That evening, I shared the result of scanning these pictures with my brothers. We spent the evening speculating on the identities of the subjects and the surroundings. A shared past brings the present closer.

Next: Fishing the High Seas.

It's Vegas Baby! - June 10, 2009

The Vegas hotel New York New York has a down to earth American theme. Breakfast was at the America restaurant the centerpiece of which is a huge curved map of the United States. The giant curved steel plates which hold the map are so large that they were fabricated in a shipyard on the east coast. Hundreds of artists worked on the the three dimensional decorations that populate the map. It hangs suspended across the middle of the eatery. We spent the morning catching up on writing and picture processing for the blog. Dave caught up on his sleep.

In the afternoon we set out to explore America's adult playground. If this was a normal Las Vegas vacation my description would end here as what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. But it won't. Taking a taxi we headed for what I consider to be the most beautiful hotel on the strip, the Bellagio. From the art glass roofed lobby to the expansive swimming pools they have spared no expense to make this a class act. Passing through the conservatory whose flower exhibition was circus themed, we had lunch in the modest cafe overlooking the pools.

As much as I enjoy the ambiance of the Bellagio, it is no place for amateurs to gamble. After lunch, we took a taxi down to Steve Wynn's newest creation, the Encore. On the way we talked with the driver about the economy in Las Vegas. We had noticed that there was a lot of major construction going on around the strip. However, none of it is active. No cranes are moving, no construction work is going on. The driver said that business had dropped off about 30% from 2006 to 2007 and another 8% from 2007 to 2008. We were enjoying some of the fruits of this as we got a really good rate and extra perks at our hotel. Our driver was a former loan officer for a major financial institution. When the housing market in Vegas went bust, he was laid off. Making a tough decision as to whether to stay and wait for a recovery in Nevada or return to his home in the Northwest, he decided to stay. Since he had to feed his family he started driving a cab.

Arriving at the Encore, we were astonished to find no other cabs waiting outside the hotel nor any other people waiting for transport. Every other hotel on the strip was crowded with people ready to check-in, check-out or move to their next stop on the strip. At the extreme north end of the strip, the Encore is the newest of the “new” hotels which populate Las Vegas Boulevard from Tropicana avenue to Sands avenue. Since it is so far north, the folks who walk up and down the strip haven't made it a stop as of yet. That seemed fine for the upscale clientel of the Encore who occupied the tables and slots inside the Encore. Unruffled by the riff-raff from outside they were happy to drop some of their euchre in the richly elegant surroundings designed by the original creator of the Bellagio. Both of Steve Wynn's hotels at the north end of the strip, the Wynn and Encore, have the same look and feel as the Bellagio. Beautiful, over the top, oversize decorations and calm elegance.

I won't dwell on each of our stops as we played tourist photographing and gambling in the Mediterranean elegance of the Pallazo, listened to the operatic overtures of the gondoliers at the Venetian and enjoyed the sweet, gritty sophistication of Paris. With the afternoon gone we returned to New York New York to catch the sixth game of the Stanley cup.

I had in mind watching the Cup on a room sized screen with screaming fans from both sides exchanging jibes and bets. ESPN was SRO so Dave and I wandered down to the quiet little Bar on Times Square where there were a few small screen TVs, one of which was showing the game. Unsuspecting, we sat down next to Tom and his friend from Western Pennsylvania who politely but firmly rooted for the Penguins Sitting between us was a sportswriter from Vancouver. Who would have thought that we could travel 2000 miles to a bar in Las Vegas and watch the Stanley Cup with a man who had played hockey most of his life in Pennsylvania and an expert scribe from Vancouver. Dave, Tom and the sportswriter exchanged hockey stories. We had a good time but the Wings were never in the the game.

After the game, we fueled up for a Las Vegas evening with a steak dinner at Gallagher's. Refreshed and refueled, we strolled across the street to the largest casino on the strip, the MGM. It was disappointing. Other than size, I feel the MGM has little to recommend it. We got lost, twice, inside. They run their blackjack tables like a Indian casino, always full. I don't care for that. We left shortly and returned to New York New York and decided to visit the storied Coyote Ugly bar. After paying the cover charge we found ourselves in the middle of a European nerd convention. Yes, there were girls dancing on the bar but somehow it missed, by a very large margin, the gritty coolness portrayed in the movie. We left there in short order after Dave scored a T-shirt from the gift shop. Yes, a gift shop in a bar.

We spent the rest of the night at a blackjack table with one of the sourest dealers I have ever had the played with. However, it was very profitable and we ended our night in Vegas on an upbeat note.

Next: Brothers on the boats.

Zion National Park – June 9, 2009

Dave was really blown away by Zion National Park. Last evening, after setting up camp we took the shuttle bus into the canyon that surrounds north fork of the Virgin River at the extreme south end of the park. Because of the small area and potential for heavy traffic, private cars are prohibited from the Zion Canyon Scenic Drive. As the sun set, we were treated to magnificent views of the many peaks along the drive. The Court of the Patriarchs, Angels Landing, with Watchman behind us. Dave shot 130 pictures in the 45 minutes that we were on the shuttle last evening.

Zion is a bit more upscale than El Morro or even the Grand Canyon. Because of the limited camping available, most visitors stay in one of the many hotels and motels in nearby Springdale. Filled with souvenier shops, rock and gem stores, restaurants and spas, Springdale is a classic western resort town. It's even upscale in the campground. “Camped” next to us was a fifth wheel complete with satellite dish. Now that's the way to rough it. Compared to our two person backpacking tent, Coleman stove and mid-size car, they were living in luxury.

With only three hours drive to our next stop in Las Vegas, we spent the entire morning driving the Zion-Mount Carmel Highway to the east entrance of Zion and back. Dave shot another 200 pictures of the sandstone canyons that changed along every turn. We were surprised to see a weather balloon tethered high above the canyon. After reaching Checkerboard Mesa, we headed back west and south for Las Vegas. Appropriately enough, it rained hard as we passed through Hurricane, UT. Leaving Utah, cutting across a corner of Arizona and passing through the Virgin River Canyon we dropped down onto the desert of Nevada.

Next: It's Vegas Baby!

Navajo Nation – June 8, 2009

We took a leisurely drive along the east rim of the Grand Canyon stopping at every lookout point. At Moran point, we spotted a group of six rafts floating in the Colorado river. We watched as they rounded a bend in the river and passed through whitewater rapids. They all made it through.

Shortly after leaving the park at Desert View, we also left the US and entered the Navajo reservation. We drove for a hundred miles along the west wall of the Echo Cliffs that guard the land of the People of the four Sacred Mountains. It is a vast, beautiful and desolate country.

At Bitter Springs, we branched off AZ 89 for alternate AZ 89 along the Vermilion Cliffs. We stopped and ate lunch along the roadside in the desert. Dave was very intent on keeping possession of the car keys as we were a good 20 mile hike from anywhere. I was scouting this area for the layered multicolored sandstone that I have seen in pictures. We didn't find it.
We left the res and entered the Kaibab National Forest climbing quickly from 2500 feet to about 5000 feet. The environment changed drastically from desert to forest and the temperature dropped from 90 to 70. At the north end of this section of the forest, we looked backed down into the desert and the rock walls of Zion and Bryce National Parks.

Next: Zion

Camping in the Canyon - June 7, 2009

It was another cold morning when the sun came up in El Morro National Monument. We ate a hot breakfast, packed quickly and headed out from El Morro up to Gallup along NM 602 through the Zuni Mountains. We spent time in the car writing the blog and moving pictures from cameras to computers. Unfortunately, we were so involved with the blog that we drove right by the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest national parks west of Gallup. The distance to the Grand Canyon was twice what I had estimated. We passed up a gas stop and arrived in Williams, AZ with only about a gallon left in the tank. Still, the G6 pulled us through. Heading north on AZ 64 we arrived at the Grand Canyon in mid-afternoon. After setting up camp, we made our first stop for groceries. I'd like to stop here and thank my sister for provisioning us in St. Louis which lasted until today.

We took the shuttle east to the visitor center and walked out to Mather Point. The walk along the south rim was crowded with folks from all over the world. We took pictures of them, they took pictures of us and we all took pictures of the Canyon.

Hopping back on the shuttle we went to Grand Canyon Village and walked along the rim outside the lodge. On a ledge below the artist studio, three condors treated us to a display of wings. By the way, condors are delicious when cooked over an open fire. They serve about four people. Thanks to Mr. Cheney for his good shooting. Our condolences to the families of the park rangers who were in his line of fire.

Next: The Navajo Nation

The Great Plains - June 6, 2009

Today was our longest day as far as both miles and hours driving, 624 miles, 8.5 hours. We made no stops except for fuel and food, if you can call stopping at a MacDonald's to microwave our leftover buffalo burgers from dinner the night before a food stop. We were still tired from chasing the buffalo over a cliff the night before and preparing the burgers. Although the KOA in El Reno provided us with a nice shady spot for camping, it was right on I-40 and that traffic did not cease all night. It thundered through the night but only a little sprinkling of rain dropped on us. It was clear and dry in the morning.

The trip through western Oklahoma, the panhandle of Texas and most of New Mexico was uneventful. Lots of wind turbine fields in Oklahoma and Texas which surprised us because both of them are big oil states.

We camped in the evening at El Morro National Monument. Until the railroad was built 25 miles to the north of El Morro, it served as a waystop for everyone passing the area. This included pre-historic Indians who lived at El Morro in the 13^th and 14^th centuries, the Spanish and Americans. Its attraction is a large pool at the base of the rock which provides water year round. The soft sandstone of El Morro allowed visitors over six centuries to carve petroglyphs, names and quotations into the rock. The earliest writing is by the Spanish governor of the region in 1605. To put it in perspective, this was 15 years before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock. Today, there are more than 2000 inscriptions carved all over El Morro.

At an elevation of about 7500 feet it was a cold night. We had most of our gear on for sleeping. Dave was somewhat out of breath during our ½ mile walk to see the inscriptions on El Morro but did OK after taking it slowly. Tom was also challenged but just the slight uphill walk to the pool at El Morro. This is just the beginning of our high altitude travels so we better get used to it. We slept a peaceful nine hours with only the sound of the wind in the trees, night birds and coyotes howling and laughing in the distance to lull us to sleep. With just instant coffee and freeze dried eggs for breakfast we headed out.

Next: One of the seven wonders of the natural world.

GM News

Just a quick note from blogHQ. GM made deals to sell two of its brands last week. Hummer is going to a Chinese conglomerate. Saturn is being sold to Penske - an auto parts, car dealership, auto racing concern based in Michigan. For the near term, GM will manufacture Hummers and Saturns at its existing factories under license for the two buyers, which will then resell the vehicles. It is predicted, especially for Hummer, that production will move overseas - Expect to see Chinese built Hummers in Shanghai pretty soon (possibly driven by the People's Army, until they run out of the People's gas!). Penkse may keep some Saturn production in the US, but that would depend on number of factors that are hard to predict right. Both deals are tentative, especially the Hummer sale, which requires Chinese Government approval.

Small Chairs - June 5, 2009

Today we traveled from my sister's home west of St. Louis to just past Oklahoma City. Mostly it was putting miles on the road but we did make a few stops.

Around Springfield, MO., we stopped for lunch and talked with Dave who worked for a medical supply company. He was delivering new Chevy Savannahs to the other branches replacing older Savannahs that they used for deliveries. This was very heartening. Talking about his personal cars, Dave owned a GMC Yukon and a Mitsubishi. Referring to the Mitsubishi, Dave said “Your cars are too expensive. They have stuff on them I don't need.” Then Dave asked the other Dave if he thought that American auto workers were overpaid and lazy. Dave replied “They make a lot more money than we do!” Dave said that the recession has had an affect in Springfield but that his business was more or less recession proof. Looking at the vehicles in the parking lot of the restaurant, almost all of them were full size pick up trucks. They may not be buying new full size trucks in the Midwest but it is obvious that they both need and prefer them.

We stopped for an hour at the Oklahoma City National Memorial. I had known that there were chairs for every victim of the bombing but I didn't realize the effect that it would have. As you approach the memorial, it is framed by the black monolith of both the east and west gates. The gates frame the reflecting pool conveying a deep sense of peace as you enter the memorial. Along the south side of the memorial, occupying the footprint of the former Murrah building is the field of chairs. 19 of the 168 chairs are small chairs. They are at about ½ scale to the other chairs representing the babies and children that died in the bombing. We were overpowered with sadness which set the tone for the whole day. We have only posted a couple of photos from the memorial because no matter how many photos we post, the only way to understand the emotional impact is to visit the memorial.

We closed out the day setting up our tent for the first time. Winds on the plains turned our tent into a sail but after buying tent stakes, which I left behind, and staking it down, it went well. Not being entirely true to camping, we ate buffalo burgers at a restaurant. They were way overkill in size which will provide us with lunch or dinner tomorrow. It's a small world, camping next to us was a family who used to live a couple of blocks from where Dave now resides in Ohio. We went to bed to the sound of cicadas and thunder rumbling in the distance.

Next: A washout? Rolling across the southwest.

The Gateway to the West June 4, 2009.

Dave and I spent the evening with my sister looking at photos that had been passed down to me that my father had taken in the 1940's and that my grandfather made in 1910 through 1915, many of which my sister had not seen before. The next day we visited the Arch in downtown St. Louis with my sister and my niece's family. Dave who had attended the dedication of the Arch in 1967 with his father, went on the tramway to the top of the Arch for the first time. It was a beautiful day allowing us spectacular views of the city and plains both east and west from St. Louis.

Even more impressive was the wonderfully put together museum of Western expansion at the base of the Arch with everything from written history to live interpreters depicting pioneer life in the West. This is a great place to visit with children.

We had dinner that evening with my other niece's family. We would like to thank them all for a wonderful time in St. Louis. The meals, beds and fellowship that they provided. And the photographic expertise that my brother-in-law gave us. With a bacon and egg breakfast, lunch and dinner packed for the next day, off we went. Our next visit with you will be from Oklahoma.

Next: The Great Plains.

Indiana and Illinois

Hello, from the St. Louis, the Gateway to the West. Today we will stop at the Arch and the Museum of Western Expansion. Although we have not yet seen the Arch, we know we are in St. Louis because we saw Josey Wales.

Yesterday we traveled across southern Ohio, southern Indiana and southern Illinois. Some of the richest farmland in the world was still lying fallow after the harvesting of winter wheat and soybeans and before the planting of summer crops. In Indiana, the crossroads of America, there was in fact a cross at a crossroads shown in the picture.

In Illinois, about thirty miles northeast of Effingham, we took our first unscheduled detour to see the Lincoln Log Cabin state historical site. This is the site of Abraham Lincoln's father, Thomas Lincoln, last residence. A small family farm. The site also contains the Stewart farm, a neighbor of Thomas Lincoln who in 1845 ran his farm as part of the new market based economy in the United States. The site contrasts the operation of the two farms in 1845, Lincolns run to support his family (up to seventeen people at one time) with a small amount of crops used for barter at the local store while Stewart ran his farm for profit in a market based economy. During the “interpretive season” which is a little later in the year, volunteers play local characters from Illinois in 1845 and actually work both farms. Tools and the products that they produced are on display there including some beautiful quilt work. It was well worth the hour that we spent there.

Next: Arriving at my sister's. The Gateway to the West.

First Leg

The first leg of The Last American Road Trip is now complete. Both Dave and Tom are now set to turn west and head for St. Louis. As you can see from the photo, the G6 is the perfect size for two people and all their gear for a multi-week trip. I tried to capture some of the iconic sights along the road from Michigan to Ohio but handling the camera with one hand and driving with the other left something to be desired in terms of photography.

It is ironic that this trip will begin shortly after General Motors filed for bankruptcy. Even more disturbing is the number of plants that will close and jobs that will end. Two generations in my family were employed by GM as were many of my family and friends. As much as I and the folks in Michigan and Ohio are saddened by this development, it will be interesting to hear what folks in other western and midwestern states think about it. We will see.

Next: The Gateway to Western Expansion.