Arches National Park

Wednesday morning came early, as one of Alex's cats decided rattling blinds was the best fun-time activity to pursue at 6:30 AM.  Though, considering I'd awoken early every day of this trip anyway, it wasn't that big of a deal.  Too quickly, it was time to say goodbye to Alex.  We had such a wonderful time together in and around the city and she was such a gracious host.  DeeDee and I piled our things into the Ford and set out for our next destination, Moab.  Why Moab?  Because it sits right next to Arches National Park!

I had marked the park down as a 'must visit' back in April of 2012.  That road trip never happened, but fifteen months later I was finally on my way.  The drive covered some of the same ground I drove from Grand Junction to Salt Lake City, but seeing it coming the other way was a new experience.  I saw things I missed the first time around and found places to stop and take pictures.  After a quick 4 hour drive (seriously, it just breezed by) we arrived.  We immediately stopped to get a picture of the entrance sign and met a family from Minnesota.  "Have you been in before?" the father asked.  When I said no, he grinned.  "Oh, man.  You're going to LOVE it!"  I was already excited but random traveler excitement just added to my anticipation.  Once we actually entered the park, every license plate I saw was from a different state.  I heard as many different languages as I did in Washington, D.C.  It was amazing to share the sights with people from all over the world.  

I also became less tolerant of the occasional sprinkles I'd driven through on the way down.  Surely it would clear up soon.  We stopped at a few early places and marveled at the unfathomably large rock structures and I used my hat to shield my camera from the maddening precipitation.  Thankfully, after about twenty minutes, the clouds parted and I was greeted with blue sky.  The amazing landscape that I could scarcely believe was amplified by the change; the orange and red colors of the rock formations blazed in the sunlight.  When we arrived at Balanced Rock, the rain clouds were almost totally gone.

At Balanced Rock, I noticed something strange.  There were small stacks of rocks EVERYWHERE.  I remembered this was something important, but I couldn't recall specifics.  Turns out they are a hiker's way of marking a trail.  In such a heavily populated area, though, it appeared that people started stacking rocks because someone ELSE stacked rocks; there were no discernable paths.  But I continued to see these little pillars of stone throughout the park.  We drove to several other rock formations and marveled at the strange shapes the earth had taken; rock spires jutted defiantly out of the ground, the last remnant of some larger structure that was literally weathered away.  The temperature rose as the sun got comfortable above us and it became clear we were NOT prepared with much water...but the park is easily drivable, so no big deal, right?  Right.

When we arrived at the Double Arches, I immediately suspected this would be my favorite spot in the park.  Not only is it an amazing rock formation, beautiful in color and shape, but it was also used in the filming of 'Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade'.  I already had a picture outside of the 'library' in Venice from the film, and I became giddy at this unexpected opportunity.  I gleefully set up my picture before going to the arches themselves.  I even climbed up to the highest point inside the arches, triumphant in another small victory over my fear of heights.  I enjoyed a few minutes of glory before realizing I now had to figure out how to get DOWN.  I made it, but not without some muttering and anxiety.  Such is life.

We toured the rest of the park afterwards, which included the Devil's Garden, the Skyline Arch, and the Delicate Arch.  The latter is used as a backdrop for modern Utah license plates, so I expected it to be the most populated arch in the park.  As we reached that section of the park, I noticed it was an actual hike out to the arch; there was a view point, but it was a fair distance from the arch itself.  Our lack of water planning kept us from hiking out to the arch proper; heck, even the hike to the view point was rough enough.  I reached the top of the viewing area out of breath, the words of Richard's long-ago letter echoing in my mind.  We both made it, though, and left Arches very pleased with our day's journey.  Once we got to Moab, we ate a late lunch (which also served as dinner) and prepared for the next day, which would take us to Arizona and my most anticipated destination since...well, ever.

Monument Valley.

A Dash of Salt

We didn't have much in the way of plans for our full day in SLC; in fact, it wasn't until Tuesday morning that I recalled the salt flats as a point of interest.  Alex was definitely up for the trip, even though it was two hours outside of town.  We piled into her Rondo and set a course due easy on Interstate 80.  After breakfast, of course, which consisted of a croissant sandwich, donut, and coffee from Dunkin Donuts, a pleasure we don't have yet in Tulsa.

The road out of town went past the airport, past the Great Salt Lake (more on that later), and then to an expanse of salty flatness that's hard to describe.  People that say western Kansas is flat need to spend a few minutes driving I-80 towards the Nevada border.  It's FLAT.  They even have signage warning drowsy drivers to pull over rather than risk lives.  On top of that, the flatness is so pronounced there are also 'High Wind Area' warnings and Alex spoke several times of her vehicle getting waylaid by strong winds.  But just because the drive was flat does not mean it was uneventful.

At one point, DeeDee noticed there were messages in the salty soil just off the highway; it was evidently a thing to arrange rocks by the roadside to spell out messages, names, and symbols.  Of course, we decided to hop out and do the same.  Much to my delight, the fence separating the highway from the railroad was gone; this allowed me the pleasure of taking some pictures from the rail line itself.  Afterwards, I collected some rocks and started placing my name on the ground.  Alex found it funny that, even when using rocks, my handwriting was the same.  I hadn't noticed.  DeeDee also gathered some rocks and placed her initials on the roadside.  It was pretty cool!  We piled back into the car and continued west.

We approached a rest area outside of Wendover and stopped.  This was the main touristy spot for folks to stop, pointing out the significance of the salt flats and the Bonneville Raceway, where the world land speed record was set.  I walked out onto the flats proper, which was quite different than the name-writing area, and marveled at the white expanse in front of me.  The thick salt stuck to my shoes and filled my nose; the sun shone as brightly as it does after a snowfall.  Even though we were still close to the highway, it was serene.  I noticed a man nearby in full garb, some kind of priest.  All around me shone the brilliance of the flats.  But there was one more place to visit before heading back east.

I'd read about a small access road a little further up the highway, one that went a little further into the flats.  We found it and drove out to the end of the line, next to a marker for the Bonneville Raceway and an older gentleman with an easel.  I complimented him on his artwork and he asked where I was from.  When I said, 'Tulsa' he was awestruck.  "You have one of the greatest museums in the country there."  I guessed Philbrook, but he corrected me:  Gilcrease Museum was on this man's list of must-see places in the US.  We talked for a few minutes about the nature of art and he shared some of the work he'd painted that day.  I took his information and told him I'd be in touch.  Afterwards, I wandered the asphalt terminus and marveled anew at the flats; there was an area of standing water that looked absolutely gorgeous.  The mountains reflected with brilliance and it could've been hundreds of feet deep if I hadn't known better.  It was an amazing moment.

We drove back to Salt Lake City, stopping once because I saw an old husk of a bus in the desert that I HAD to see through my camera lens.  As we got closer to the city, DeeDee asked if we could stop at the Great Salt Lake, as she has a penchant for putting her toes in water at all opportunities.  Of course, that was no problem!  We found an access road to the lake and stopped.

This did not go well.

The "Great" Salt Lake turned out to be a putrid, desolate landscape swarming with bugs and littered with bird carcasses.  The smell was nearly overpowering as we trudged through the crunchy soil towards the lakeside, which had receded to the point where it took a five minute walk to reach it.  Once we arrived, though, the condition of the water was too dire for even DeeDee to brave the muck.  It was just awful.  We walked back to the car, a trio of pungent and defeated travelers, cursing the signs that encouraged anyone to visit the lake for any reason.  When we got back to the car, we felt the best way to get past this blighted, desolate "lake" would be to have a delicious late lunch at In-n-Out.  It didn't disappoint.

Our day ended with time downtown and wandering around the Temple grounds.  I gotta hand it to the Mormons: they keep their city clean and organized.  The Temple is an amazing area with beautiful flowers and other peaceful surroundings.  I couldn't count the couples getting wedding photos done as the sun started to set.  The evening wound down and we settled back at Alex's place, packing and getting ready for Wednesday.  I can't believe it's only been four days!

The Beehive State

The Grand Vista Hotel in Grand Junction, at the end of all things, was a little less than Grand.  I don't have any big time complaints, especially in light of some of the places I've stayed in the past, but it straddled the line between hotel and motel such that I had higher expectations AFTER I arrived.  By the time I showered, packed, and checked out I was ready to get on the road.  Aside from my slow burn of disappointment, today's drive would take me into Utah and into the company of my friend Alex, who moved there almost a year ago.  Alex was beside herself in excitement, eagerly awaiting our arrival.

We had breakfast at a lovely little mom 'n pop place in Grand Junction and then headed out.  I didn't really have much in the way of expectations to the landscape in Utah and I crossed the state line with heightened curiosity.  The drive through Utah was full of browns, reds, yellows, and if a town was nearby there was a strip of green signifying irrigation.  We drove through canyons, down mountainsides, and across desert landscape dotted with mesas.  It felt like the old west in the movies.  Much of the day's highways were laid parallel to railroad tracks; it was easy to imagine an old steam locomotive moving along, bringing eastern citizens westward in search of riches and a fresh start.

The drive to Salt Lake City was short in comparison to my recent experiences and we arrived in early afternoon.  Alex was super excited to see us and eagerly welcomed us to her home.  After a brief visit, we piled into her car and she showed us around town.  We drove through downtown (briefly; I definitely want to spend more time there) and she took us up a steep neighborhood road to a stunning lookout spot that overlooked the entire city.  It was like a painting; the mountains to the left, the city below, and the long expanse of landscape as far as the eye could see.

"Where to next?" Alex asked.  I checked my phone for any notes I had and instead saw a message from my friend Kristi recommending a local beer.  A short Google search later and we were en route to Park City, home of the brewery/pub for said beer.  Unbeknownst to me, the GPS on my phone routed us to a small, one-gas-station town an hour out of our way.  The drive was beautiful, but I was still angry at myself for not checking my map closer.  Nobody else had any issues, though, and we made it to Park City without any further issues.

Park City is a big skiing town.  Since it's the middle of summer, it's definitely not peak tourist season.  Still, it was really busy.  The downtown district is made up in a style like the Old West and there was plenty of boutiques open for trading.  We had a wonderful meal at the Wasatch Brew Pub (complete with an AMAZING porter) and wandered Main Street until we were weary.  On the way out of the town, we stopped by the Olympic Park used for the 2002 Winter Olympics.  Although it was closed, it was a beautiful sight.

Another day filled with highway miles, tasty vittles, good company, and amazing sights.  I'm tired, sure, but I'm also excited for everything tomorrow brings.

"As I look out over this magnificent vista..."

Some people take vacation and decide they're going to sleep in every day, relax, and not do much of anything.  That's fine and good…when I take a day off here and there, that's definitely what I TRY to do (my body doesn't let me sleep in that far these days, and if it does I usually awake with a headache) but when I take time off in a long stretch I gotta do something with it.  So when I woke up bright and early just after 6:00 AM on Sunday to greet the sunrise, I felt fantastic.  We got rounded up without much fanfare and left the Stagecoach Motel in Colorado Springs to our first stop:  Garden of the Gods.

I visited this park last year, and although I had a fantastic time and really enjoyed it that entire vacation to the Denver area was soured by the strange events that followed my trip; the couple that had opened their home to me and, it seemed, had really enjoyed my company for the week I was visiting sent me an email a few weeks later that said some really hurtful things. They severed all ties to me and that was that.  I still don't understand what happened…but that's a year ago now, and I was here in Colorado to make some new, untainted memories.  Not only that, but being in this magnificent place at sunrise provided us with cool temperatures and low population.  Like last time, I was struck at how quickly I ran out of breath; just because I wasn't on a mountain didn't mean the elevation wasn't a factor.  I could exercise more, too, I suppose.

I lead DeeDee to a perch I'd discovered on my last trip and we sat for a few minutes, looking out at the rock formations and marveling at the ingenuity of nature.  Once we felt like moving again, we wandered around the park for a bit longer, seeing the Kissing Camel rock formation and the Balanced Rock just down the road, and then left town.  The original plan was to drive north to Denver and cross over to our next stop, Grand Junction.  That plan changed when I was telling some other friends about my upcoming trip and they insisted I take the south route, taking Highway 50 through the San Isabel National Forest.  That was absolutely the right thing to do, because boy howdy was it a picturesque drive.

Not only did the road we took go through many small towns like Salida and Gunnison, but we stopped at many natural wonders to soak them in.  Even though the Royal Gorge National Park was completely closed due to the wildfires last month, we were able to find a small picnic area still open so we could see the gorge and the bridge.  It was breathtaking.  Even though I have a really rough fear of heights, I scrambled out to an area closer to the edge than I can normally tolerate to take some pictures and view the river below.  Suddenly, I became aware of my surroundings (I blame other tourists that showed up and started crowding me) and literally ran back to the car.  It was a real shame about the rest of the park; were surrounded by blackened trees and a barren landscape where once wildlife flourished.  Although the ranger I talked to said they'd re-open eventually, 48 of 52 buildings burnt down in addition to the forest and it would be a long time.

The unplanned nature of our stops throughout the rest of the day added excitement and unpredictability.  We wandered through the downtown arts district of Salida, rode a sky ride up to the top of Monarch Pass (not only did that give us the opportunity to see the Continental Divide from 12,000 ft up, but a small thunderstorm rolled through and we got stuck on top of the mountain for about half an hour!), and watched rafters navigate the rapids of the Arkansas River.  At one point, I was driving and noticed a road sign that had a camera on it with an arrow pointing to the right.  "Take a picture?  Of what?  There's not…OH!"  As soon as I started talking, the landscape opened up on my right to reveal the Dillon Pinnacles, an amazing rock formation across the river.  I laughed at myself; how crazy is it that these amazing natural sights seem to pop up out of nowhere?

After a long day of beautiful vistas and winding roads, we arrived in Grand Junction.  We ate at a local Irish Pub recommended to us by Alex, spent a few minutes in the hot tub (good for my aching shoulders, bad for my ears courtesy of the many screaming children), and slept soundly, knowing the next leg of our journey would take us into Salt Lake City itself.

Hitting the Road

Don't you hate it when you wake up in the morning suddenly, startled, somehow KNOWING instantly you overslept?  "WHAT TIME IS IT?!" your brain screams before anything else even registers.  That's how I woke up on Saturday, at five minutes to 8:00 AM.  I was supposed to go pick up a rental car at 8, but in my early morning haze I had turned my alarm OFF instead of snoozing it.  I scrambled to get ready quickly; when my friend DeeDee arrived to get on the road, instead we had to go get our car first.  It added about an hour to our morning, but overall it wasn't a terrible thing.  In fact, we got a better car than I reserved for a great rate (gotta have cruise control) and we got on the road a little after 9 without any other issues.

This road trip came together rather quickly in the grand scheme of things; I had some vacation for early July that I hadn't decided if I was actually going to do anything with or not.  When I ended up moving it to this week due to a software launch at work (which ended up getting delayed anyway) DeeDee asked what I thought about visiting our mutual friend Alex in Salt Lake City.  It grew pretty quickly from a flight to SLC to a ten day road trip through six states.  After only about three weeks of planning, we zipped out of Tulsa with a full itinerary.  Yes, we actually typed up an itinerary.

Day One's driving would be the longest single stretch of the entire trip.  Over ten hours of travel time from Tulsa, up to Wichita, and over to Colorado Springs.  There was one stop I definitely wanted to make on the way, conveniently about half way, in a small town called Hutchinson, KS.  Some time ago, I read an article that listed some great old cinemas throughout the country.  I keep that list in mind any time I plan any kind of travel, and one such theater exists in Hutchinson.  The Fox Theater was built in 1931 and the facade looks brand new.  It's nestled in a small town full of the character you'd expect from such a location; I was actually a little sad that we couldn't stay longer to explore the quaint downtown, but we had a long ways to go.  We did stay to eat, though, at a local drive-in place called R-B's that had FANTASTIC homemade onion rings.

Several people had been very adamant that western Kansas was extremely flat and boring.  Once we got on I-35, I could tell what they were talking about.  Luckily for us, though, the sky was dynamic enough that we were able to keep ourselves entertained on the long drive to the Colorado border and beyond.  In fact, we ran into a few pretty harsh pop-up thunderstorms, including one where the rain was so heavy I nearly pulled off the road to wait for it to pass.  At least it washed all the bugs off the car!  Wind farms also dotted the horizon was we wound through corn and wheat fields and to the Colorado border.  Highway 24 in Colorado was a lovely twisty-turny highway full of small towns to keep the scenery fresh.  The car handled very well and I was quite thankful we hadn't opted for the compact car.  Regardless, when we finally arrived at our motel, it was a quick dinner and lights out.  Tomorrow promised to be a day full of wonder.

A Piece of Route 66

It's been a while since I've posted here!  Truthfully, it's been a while since I've done much in the way of travel or had anything I felt was worthy enough to write about.  Thankfully, over the extended 4th of July weekend I had thanks to a strategically-placed vacation day, I was able to get out of town for a day and take a trip I've been meaning to take for years:  the section of Route 66 from Tulsa to the northeast corner of the state.

I started by taking the Will Rogers Turnpike up north, zipping along at 75 miles an hour.  It was uneventful, aside from passing underneath the former World's Largest McDonald's near Vinita as it was being dismantled after falling into pretty poor shape.  The reason I wanted to start in Miami (pronounced My-am-uh) was a single place:  the Coleman Theatre Beautiful.  However, I arrived pretty early and it wasn't open yet.  In fact, I wasn't sure it WOULD open considering it was the day after Independence Day, so I wandered Main Street.  Miami is very proud of their Route 66 heritage and the quaint storefronts all have ties to the rich past of the Mother Road.  I was welcomed inside a small tourist shop and was told that, indeed, the theatre would open for visitors shortly.  I entered with great joy!

This old vaudeville theatre was built in 1929 by the guy that discovered the 2nd largest deposit of lead and zinc in the world, underneath what was once Pitcher, OK and is now the largest Superfund site in the country.  This guy made over a million dollars a month (not adjusted for inflation!) and wanted a place for road acts to stop and entertain, so he built a beautiful Spanish Revival style theatre.  In the last 20 years or so, the city has restored it and with good fortune they have it looking very close to how it appeared on opening night; they even found the original Mighty Wurlitzer organ and have silent film festivals with it!  I marveled at the ornate work, both inside and out, as a volunteer toured me through the facility.  I stood on the same stage that once hosted the Marx Brothers, Will Rogers, and even Tom Mix and his horse.  I marveled at the elaborate rigging backstage and the intricate lighting system as I was regaled with story after story of discoveries, donations, and pure luck throughout the restoration process.  The entire place felt magical.

After finishing my tour of the Coleman, I needed to eat...so I stopped at another Route 66 landmark, Waylan's Hamburgers...also affectionately known as the Ku-Ku Burger.  It was a delicious roadside dive burger and was more than enough fuel to get me down the road.  When I'd visited the tourist shop earlier, I was told about a small section of Route 66 nearby called 'Ribbon Road' or the Sidewalk Highway.  Back in the day, Route 66 was a single lane because of how few cars were on the road.  Builders assumed *IF* two cars happened to be traveling at once, it would be no big deal for one to pull off and let the other pass.  I had to see this.  The road was in deep disrepair, considering it's now very rarely traveled due to a bypass, and the only other vehicle I saw was a tractor.  But I took the opportunity to stop and marvel at the landscape that was not unlike what it had to look like back when it was originally built.  I felt really special, standing on the gravel and cracked asphalt and listening to the sounds of the world as it turned around me.

The rest of my trip down 66 took me through several small towns; Afton, Vinita, Chelsea, Claremore.  All towns in various states of twilight that were trying desperately to stay relevant in a world that continued to speed past.  Afton had a delightfully restored service station, Vinita's downtown had several points of interest, and even tiny Chelsea had one of my favorite things:  an old steel bridge!  Claremore is the town I spent my first six years living in, so I was somewhat familiar with it, but it was still nice to take a break and explore the downtown and pause to appreciate the tenacity of small town America.

After re-entering Tulsa, I took care to ensure I stayed on the route until I got home, seeing familiar sights through the lens of the day's journey.  I arrived at my house after a long day of driving and smiled, for I had seen a piece of Americana that I felt a real connection to.  I am already planning the sights to see on the rest of Route 66, traveling southwest to the other corner of the state, and the many opportunities to experience the slower pace of yesteryear.

Moore

Yesterday, I received an email at work asking if anyone wanted to volunteer to go down to Moore, Oklahoma and help man a Mobile Battery Center near the devastation caused by the F5 tornado that tore through the community on Monday.  I volunteered immediately.  I found myself on I-44 westbound at 8:00 AM heading to the center of the state.

As anyone who has driven from Tulsa to OKC can tell you, the drive is pretty bland.  I drank my coffee, sang along with my iPod, and kept myself entertained as best I could.  Once I got to Oklahoma City, I saw the newly completed Devon Tower rising above the rest of the skyline.  It was a shining beacon of reflected sunlight and prosperity.  About five minutes later, I saw a water tower letting me know I'd entered Moore's city limits; traffic slowed quickly.  One minute, everything was fine, and the next it looked like a bomb had detonated.  All of the buildings were damaged.  Billboards were twisted, signs were bent.  You could see where the monster tornado crossed right over I-35 S.  Then, everything just as quickly seemed to return to normal.

I arrived at the Wal-Mart on 19th Street just before 10 AM.  This was one of the staging areas for relief workers and recovery efforts; there were tents everywhere.  Kellogg's had a tent serving breakfast, Tide had an area to do laundry for folks, even the salon inside the store was offering free shampoos.  I parked and walked over to our tent, up by the entrance, and met the sales folks that were running our Wireless Support Station.  U.S. Cellular was offering free loaner phones (no information required), a quick-charging station, and had a good supply of car and wall chargers for people to take with them.  After a few minutes, one of the leaders there offered to take me to their second location, half a mile west next to a church on Eagle Drive.

After being introducing to our guy there and taking a little time to get situated, I was given a backpack full of car chargers and the two of us set out to offer help.  Up by the main road, houses were still mostly intact.  Once we rounded a corner back in the neighborhood, everything changed.

It's hard to pin down the emotions I felt as I walked by houses that no longer resembled homes.  People were gathering debris and cleaning up what they could, but where do you start when there is nothing left but rubble?  Many people took us up on our free chargers, and although nobody needed a loaner phone everyone was thankful.  Other relief volunteers from countless organizations had food tables scattered throughout the area and others rode up and down the streets in four-wheelers offering food and drink.  Some people just sat, shell shocked, while others embraced and wept.  I walked right by Plaza Towers Elementary School and the temporary memorial that looked very familiar to anyone familiar with the Murrah site in Oklahoma City.  In that area, not even frames were left.  Everything was gone.  Trees were nothing more than giant sticks in the ground with metal wrapped around a branch here and there.

Ruined cars littered the landscape.  Police and National Guard roamed the streets.  In the distance, you could hear the beeping of dump trucks and front-end loaders...but most folks just had a pair of gloves and their own strength.  People were friendly to each other and there volunteers from as far away as Joplin, MO and San Antonio, TX...and I'm sure there were others around from even farther away.  Volunteering for clean-up, passing out food, doing whatever they could to help.  Even though I was only amidst the destruction for an hour, it felt like a week.

At about 2:00, the others from the Tulsa Care Center arrived and I headed back home.  I am humbled by my experience in Moore and thankful I work for a company that rushed into the community to provide assistance.  It may seem trivial to some, but people sure were thankful to have a way to reach their loved ones when they had no power and little else.

The images of today will stay with me for a long time.